19. Sebastion #2
“Mav told me the doctor came by yesterday.” Please don’t die. Please don’t die. Please don’t die. I’m not ready. “It ain’t good, huh?”
“Eh…”
Scarlett asked me just days ago if I’m ever afraid. The answer is so fucking obvious, so blatantly dying right here in front of me. And his reaction is a bland eh.
“Doctors don’t always know what they’re talking about,” he rasps. “That idiot told me I wouldn’t make it past Thanksgiving.” He wheezes out a soft laugh. “Proves how much he knows.”
“Unc—”
“It ain’t bad news till it’s bad news, and I’m not giving up just cause the calendar told me it was time.”
“Are you in a lot of pain?” I draw a shaky breath, my lungs rejecting the scent of antiseptic and the poison those idiot doctors pump into this man’s veins. “It’s manageable, right?”
“Mm… it’s hardly a bother.”
Skeptically, I bring my eyes up to his.
He grins. “Honest. They keep me comfortable enough that I feel like everyone’s overreacting. And when it’s not so comfortable, they give me the drugs that make me dream of the prettiest things.” His lips wrinkle into a goofy grin. “It’s the strangest thing.”
“Unc—”
“We have company, boy.” His voice hardens just a little, his frailty makes way for the soldier he is beneath the cancer.
Straightening in my chair, I glance over my shoulder and clock my mom’s stare. I see the woman beneath the warrior. The mother under the leader.
In front of her men, and especially in front of the woman she’s deemed a threat, she’s ruthless. But here in the shadows, with my uncle’s hand clasped in mine, and my dad’s hand clasped in hers, she’s just a woman. Scared and weighed down by responsibility.
“Got yourself under control now, Mother?” I bring my eyes back to the sickly man in the bed. “Think we’ll get an apology, or…?”
He chuckles. “That’s not SOP. Don’t get cocky.”
“I won’t apologize.” She makes her way across the room, her steps not even loud enough to beat Uncle Bas’ machines.
Setting her hand on my shoulder, she leans close enough that her perfume invades my senses and her lips press to my cheek.
Her long hair tickles my neck, but it’s her shaky exhale that proves she feels.
She might appear to be a machine to most outsiders, but to those who know her, we know she feels.
I suppose I got that from her.
“I’m glad you’re home,” she whispers. “I’m willing to set the rest aside for now. Tomorrow’s a new day.”
I curl my arm around and lay my palm on the back of her head. It’s a hug. It’s the confirmation she needs that I’ll always forgive her, no matter the bullshit she throws around.
“Scarlett’s not a threat,” I rumble. “She’s just a terrified woman who needs a little help.”
“Yes, well…” Carefully pulling away, Mom straightens her back and comes around to perch on the edge of the bed. “Whatever you think she is, she’s not invited into this.” She gestures to me. To Dad. To Uncle Bas. “This is a private moment, and for right now, I just want to know if you’re well.”
When my brows pinch tight in confusion, she adds, “Are you okay after that mess at the gas station today?”
I scoff. “I’m fine. I’d been stuck in the truck for eight hours already by that point, so a little exercise in the candy aisle was good for me.”
Dad shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “There’s always a silver lining to be found. Maverick kept an eye on you for the rest of the day.”
“And the gas station, too,” Mom adds. “Cops were crawling all over the place soon after you left. They were interviewing everyone.”
“Nice server at the diner next door,” Uncle Bas snickers.
“Swore up and down she didn’t see a damn thing, but vouched that if something went down, and if it had something to do with you, she was certain that nice couple—the giant and the tiny princess’y sassy one—weren’t at fault.
She also hopes you liked your bacon and pancakes. ”
I bark out a cathartic laugh and drag my chair closer to the bed, because I need to sit back before I slide straight onto the floor, but I don’t want to let him go just yet.
“I liked that woman. She was a sweetheart, and she was willing to put herself between me and that princess’y sassy chick, even though I was twice her size and could’ve fucked some shit up. ”
“Sounds like Ms. Castro has a gift for convincing people to protect her.” Mom’s lips wrinkle with distaste. “Concerning.”
“I thought she wasn’t part of this conversation?”
“She’s not.” She scowls down at her fussing hands. “Shut up.”
“You shouldn’t speak to your own child like that. It’s rude.” I roll my eyes and consider laying my head back. Simply catching some z’s right here where I am. But doing so would mean abandoning Scarlett when she’s probably ready to tear her own skin off.
Exhaling a grunting sigh, I push to my feet and bring Uncle Bas’ hand with me. I press a kiss to the top, then I lay his palm gently on his belly.
“You’re leaving?”
“Mmm. You should be asleep anyway. And if I don’t get horizontal real soon, I might drop.” I grab my mother’s shoulders and press a noisy kiss to the middle of her forehead. Then I turn to my dad and pull him in for a hug. “Good to see your face again, Jameson. It’s been a minute.”
He claps the back of my head and chuckles by my ear. “Back atcha, Jameson. Find your bunk, get at least ten hours down, then I’ll put you to work and rotate Mav out. He’s been picking up your slack while you were gone.”
“He’s a good boy.” Stepping back, I meet Bas’ sleepy eyes and grin. “Don’t die on me, old man. I’ll be back tomorrow to hang out.”
“I’ll be here.” He exhales a tired huff, despite the argument he’s attempting to make. “I tossed my calendar in the trash a while back. Now I’m walking through life with both middle fingers pointed at the sky. I plan to stick for a while yet.”
“I’m holding you to that.” I shuffle toward the door and slow at the threshold. Glancing back, I study the OG trio. Arabella Aster, possibly the bravest of them all. Her prince, her soldier, Paul Jameson. And their heroic knight, Sebastion Conroy.
Seeing my Uncle Bas in this state hurts me.
It would be a lie to say otherwise. But whatever I feel, no matter how deeply I feel it, I know my grief is barely a drop in the ocean compared to the sorrow my parents feel.
“Goodnight.” I meet my mom’s eyes, softened now that she’s not leading her army to war. “I love you, Mom.”
She exhales a sweet sigh, made sweeter when my dad takes the seat I left and pulls her onto her lap.
“Love you too, baby. I loved you before you existed, and I’ll love you even when I’m gone.” She lays her head on Dad’s shoulder and grins. “Nothing will ever change that.”