Chapter 14 #2
“What do you think?” Raj had found the frozen shredded potatoes that he liked to use for hashbrowns, and set both packages on the counter so he could pull out another pan.
“He’s probably right,” I replied. “Mason usually is. But I haven’t had a chance to go to the library to see what Fiona found, since whatever it is has to be looked at there.”
Raj started with the sausage, and I knew he’d put the eggs and the bread in the grease. For some reason, he liked the potatoes kept separate, seasoned with salt, pepper, and onion and garlic powder. “You should make the time to do that,” he said, his voice mild.
“After Halloween season,” I replied. I probably could find a few hours to go down to the Library of Virginia and look at the couple of books she’d found, but it was hard to get motivated to do what felt like more homework when I had enough of the real kind on top of work.
At least Halloween wasn’t usually a big time for papers and exams. Those would come after Thanksgiving.
Raj didn’t say anything, so I pulled my attention away from Victor, who had gone back to eating, to try to gauge his reaction from his body language. I’m not usually very good at reading people’s expressions or posture, but I was getting better at his.
His back was to me, so I couldn’t see his face, but I could see the slight tension in his back and shoulders that told me he was worried or stressed about something.
He wasn’t moving sharply, though—as he prodded at the sausages in the pan, his arm motions were fluid, so he wasn’t angry or upset. Probably just worried.
I felt like he was always worried.
And that was my fault.
I felt guilty about it, but, at the same time, I wasn’t going to stop going to work, walking outside, and all of the other parts of my life just so he would worry less. I wasn’t in significant danger—not this time.
Except that I’d just taken a brick to the head. I grimaced.
“What?” Raj asked, having turned around in time to see my expression.
I didn’t want to explain that I might be forced to agree with him about the potential risk to my safety. Instead, I borrowed a tactic that Mason often used: being deliberately vague. “Self-recrimination,” I replied.
“What for?” he asked me.
I shrugged, not looking up. “A lot of things,” I answered.
“Such as?”
I should have known this wouldn’t work with Raj.
“Not being more diligent about my magic,” I replied.
“Not paying more attention to what was going on at the protest. Not being a better brother. Not being a better employee…” I let the last one trail off.
It was hard to explain in a way that would make sense to someone who hadn’t lived my life just how much I owed to Ward and Mason.
To explain that even if I gave them every waking minute of the rest of my life, I probably still wouldn’t feel as though I’d been able to repay what they’d done for me.
But at the same time, I also resented the fact that this meant my life wasn’t mine. The fact that it felt like it belonged to other people, even if it only belonged to them for good reasons, instead of bad ones.
When I’d been at Tranquil Brook, my life hadn’t been mine, either.
But now my life belonged to other people because I chose to dedicate it to them—to Ward and Mason, for having given me that life in the first place.
To Vi, because she was my sister and she actually cared about what happened to me.
To Raj, because he’d saved me and protected me and cared about me.
To Sam and Melissa, too, for continuing to be my friends, even though I knew I wasn’t the easiest person to be friends with.
I wanted to be better at being all those things—friend, brother, employee, boyfriend. I just didn’t know how to do all of them at the same time, since it sometimes felt like I kept having to neglect one in order to do one of the others.
“Rayn.”
I blinked, surprised, when Raj put one warm hand over the one I’d left lying limp on the kitchen table. I looked over at where he was crouched beside me, his other hand on the back of my chair, a kitchen towel thrown over one shoulder.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I was thinking.” Mason called it getting lost in my head.
He rose out of the crouch, squeezing my hand as he leaned forward to press a kiss to the undamaged side of my forehead. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said softly. “Not for any of that.”
“I’m not good at being a person,” I told him.
He laughed softly, running his fingers through my hair.
I leaned into the touch, and he pulled me against his hip, his hand continuing its gentle stroking.
“Most of us aren’t, really, when you get right down to it,” he said.
“We’re all too focused on ourselves to do a good job of being there for other people, and usually too focused on ourselves to let them be there for us, either. ”
I sighed.
“Will you let me be there for you?” he asked, gently.
I nodded against his body, and he bent and kissed the top of my head.
“Thank you,” he murmured into my hair. “I know you feel like you have to go to work because of everything Ward and Mason have done for you,” he continued.
“Even if neither of them would expect you to be there today—but,” he continued, when I drew a breath to object again.
“I understand. But I also don’t want you to make yourself sick or slow your healing because of it.
That’s why I want to drive you today, okay? ”
I nodded again. “Okay.” I could accept that. I would accept that.
“Can I ask you something?”
I nodded once more.
“Will you—would you like to come to my place after work tonight?”
I pulled away just far enough to look up at him, surprised. “You want me to come to your… place?” I didn’t know if he had an apartment or a house, so I felt forced into repeating the word he’d used.
“I—I know it’s probably going to have my thoughts all over it,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “And it’s okay if you don’t—”
“I do,” I interrupted him, pleased that he wanted me in his space, and a little embarrassed that it had not occurred to me that the reason he hadn’t asked before now was that he was trying to be considerate of me and the fact that his house or apartment might have thoughts I didn’t want to encounter, while my apartment was safe and familiar.
“And it’s okay if you want to put it off, too,” he said, the words running together a little. “I—I didn’t think about how busy October was going to be for you, and I should have asked earlier, and now probably isn’t—”
“I want to,” I interrupted him again. “Tonight.”
I shifted nervously in the back of Raj’s Subaru, keenly aware of the number of people walking along Broad Street.
Raj had chosen Broad because it didn’t go past any of the parks where there were protests scheduled—by the State House, Monroe Park near VCU—but that wasn’t stopping us from passing people on their way to or from them.
The one at the State House was pro-Arcanid, objecting to the shifter registry laws and to a few bills that were on the Assembly floor.
The one at Monroe was another MFM protest—supporting the legislation, obviously, but also just objecting in general terms to the continued rights of Arcanids and Arc-humans.
“What time were the protests supposed to start?” Ward asked from the front passenger seat.
“Eleven,” Raj answered, the word a little clipped. From where I sat, I could see his golden-brown gaze flickering around, watching the road, the sidewalks, everywhere. “They’re supposed to be done by four.”
It was almost noon. Whether or not they would still be going when we finished—around five, according to the schedule—wasn’t clear. I hoped they would, but I wasn’t optimistic that would actually be true. “What happens if they aren’t?” I asked Raj.
He blew out a breath, his gaze flickering briefly into the rear-view mirror to look at me. “Increased police presence, assuming they haven’t already maxed that out, since once they violate the terms of their permits, violence and property damage become increasingly likely.”
“Do you think this will reach Church Hill?” Ward asked, his voice worried.
“I doubt it,” came the response. “Are you expecting a protest at the séance?”
“No,” Ward replied immediately. “Pearl and Eleanor live in Church Hill, too,” he explained. “If things were going to get nasty, I’d ask them to come stay with us.”
“Ah,” Raj replied, his voice calmer. “I really don’t think so, but if it looks bad when I come back to get you, we can stop there.”
Ward nodded. “Okay, thanks.”
“Of course.”
Ward turned in his seat to look back at me. “Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” he asked me.
I nodded. “Raj is…” I wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it without being insulting.
“Being overprotective,” he said for me, although I didn’t quite understand why his lips twisted in something resembling a smile. “And Rayn is letting me.”
Ward smiled up at him, then turned and winked at me. “I know a thing or two about having an overprotective partner,” he said. “Sometimes you just have to let them flex their big, muscly arms. It makes them feel better, even if it doesn’t actually do much.”
I offered a small smile back, although I wasn’t sure what exactly to say to that.
We passed the ramp to the highway, and Raj’s body relaxed, as there were suddenly a lot fewer people on the sidewalks. “It looks pretty clear out here,” he said, speaking mostly to Ward. “So I imagine your aunt will be fine. But I’ll keep an ear out just in case.”
“I appreciate that,” my boss replied.