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Authors: Marjorie M. Liu
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wrapped my arms around him in a tight, hard hug. “If you begin to change, remember someone loves you. Remember that.”
Zee shuddered. “Love might change to hate.”
“Never,” I told him, hoping that was true, feeling vulnerable and lost, and afraid. For the first twenty-one years of my life, I’d had two constants in my life: my mother and the boys.
Then, just the boys. My rocks. My family. My home. I couldn’t abandon that because of what might be. Not when we had already achieved so much of the impossible.
Zee’s gaze shifted. I found Grant watching us, alert and intent. I tried to smile for him, but it felt crooked, sad.
He unclenched his hand from the blanket to touch my lips. Then, with excruciating gentleness, he leaned over and kissed me. I didn’t let him pull away. Grant dislodged Raw as he wrapped himself very carefully around my body, both of us all arms and legs, and heat. I wasn’t wearing much.
We didn’t talk. We soaked, instead. Listening to heartbeats, and deep breaths, filling up on being close, whole, together. Zee and the boys rested around us, quiet, staring at the stars.
“Today,” Grant said finally, slowly, “was as close as I ever want to come to dying.”
“Melodramatic,” I told him, voice muffled against his shoulder. “You could absolutely live without me.”
“No.” Grant lifted his head, forcing me to look at him—and what I saw in his eyes chilled me to the bone. “No, Maxine.”
I met his gaze without blinking. I dimly remembered hearing his voice, and a woman, speaking about bonds and life, and death . . . and was more than certain that was not a dream.
“You’ll live a long time, with or without me,” I told him. “That’s just the way it’s going to be. No matter what happens, you’re going to live .”
His jaw flexed once. His eyes so hard, so dangerous.
“Grant,” I whispered.
“Maxine,” he said, and then softened his voice. “Shut up, and let me love you the way I love you.”
I blinked, and he reached beneath the blanket to pull out my left hand. He kissed my wedding ring—closed his eyes—and lingered there like he was praying. Maybe he was. Former priests did that sort of thing.
“Okay,” I said, unsteadily. “But I don’t like your attitude.”
Grant gave me a crooked smile, and curled even closer around me. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been given a second chance. I’m not paralyzed, and I’m breathing. You’re here. The boys are here. It’s all good.”
“It was close. I thought that fever would kill you.”
“You fixed me.”
“I fixed some things. Your spine was broken in two places. Your nose and jaw were partially crushed, and you had a fractured skull. Internal bleeding. That fall did more damage than it should have. I’m not entirely sure it was all to blame for your injuries.”
Grant hesitated. “What happened, Maxine?”
Before I could answer, Zee stirred. “Tricked. Trapped. Kissed by a rose .”
Dek and Mal, who I had thought were sleeping, began humming the song of the same title. I rubbed their heads. “All those things. What did you see when the boys were ripped off my body?”
“It was like . . . watching a star torn apart.” Grant drew in a ragged breath. “You and the boys, when they’re on your skin . . . you mesh. Your light is part of their shadow, and their shadow is part of you. It’s . . . beautiful. But when that thing began melting in your hand . . .”
He rubbed his eyes, as though in pain. “Who made it, Maxine? Who would want to hurt you?”
I told him about the message written on the stem of the rose. The more I spoke, the angrier I got. Anger mixed with betrayal—rising inside me, bitter and heavy, until all I wanted to do was lay on destruction with my fists.
What the fuck? Who does this to their own child? Why?
My family. My crazy family. Every secret seemed to be wrapped in another layer of secrets, inside another, and another, with no straight answers,
Zee shuddered. “Love might change to hate.”
“Never,” I told him, hoping that was true, feeling vulnerable and lost, and afraid. For the first twenty-one years of my life, I’d had two constants in my life: my mother and the boys.
Then, just the boys. My rocks. My family. My home. I couldn’t abandon that because of what might be. Not when we had already achieved so much of the impossible.
Zee’s gaze shifted. I found Grant watching us, alert and intent. I tried to smile for him, but it felt crooked, sad.
He unclenched his hand from the blanket to touch my lips. Then, with excruciating gentleness, he leaned over and kissed me. I didn’t let him pull away. Grant dislodged Raw as he wrapped himself very carefully around my body, both of us all arms and legs, and heat. I wasn’t wearing much.
We didn’t talk. We soaked, instead. Listening to heartbeats, and deep breaths, filling up on being close, whole, together. Zee and the boys rested around us, quiet, staring at the stars.
“Today,” Grant said finally, slowly, “was as close as I ever want to come to dying.”
“Melodramatic,” I told him, voice muffled against his shoulder. “You could absolutely live without me.”
“No.” Grant lifted his head, forcing me to look at him—and what I saw in his eyes chilled me to the bone. “No, Maxine.”
I met his gaze without blinking. I dimly remembered hearing his voice, and a woman, speaking about bonds and life, and death . . . and was more than certain that was not a dream.
“You’ll live a long time, with or without me,” I told him. “That’s just the way it’s going to be. No matter what happens, you’re going to live .”
His jaw flexed once. His eyes so hard, so dangerous.
“Grant,” I whispered.
“Maxine,” he said, and then softened his voice. “Shut up, and let me love you the way I love you.”
I blinked, and he reached beneath the blanket to pull out my left hand. He kissed my wedding ring—closed his eyes—and lingered there like he was praying. Maybe he was. Former priests did that sort of thing.
“Okay,” I said, unsteadily. “But I don’t like your attitude.”
Grant gave me a crooked smile, and curled even closer around me. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been given a second chance. I’m not paralyzed, and I’m breathing. You’re here. The boys are here. It’s all good.”
“It was close. I thought that fever would kill you.”
“You fixed me.”
“I fixed some things. Your spine was broken in two places. Your nose and jaw were partially crushed, and you had a fractured skull. Internal bleeding. That fall did more damage than it should have. I’m not entirely sure it was all to blame for your injuries.”
Grant hesitated. “What happened, Maxine?”
Before I could answer, Zee stirred. “Tricked. Trapped. Kissed by a rose .”
Dek and Mal, who I had thought were sleeping, began humming the song of the same title. I rubbed their heads. “All those things. What did you see when the boys were ripped off my body?”
“It was like . . . watching a star torn apart.” Grant drew in a ragged breath. “You and the boys, when they’re on your skin . . . you mesh. Your light is part of their shadow, and their shadow is part of you. It’s . . . beautiful. But when that thing began melting in your hand . . .”
He rubbed his eyes, as though in pain. “Who made it, Maxine? Who would want to hurt you?”
I told him about the message written on the stem of the rose. The more I spoke, the angrier I got. Anger mixed with betrayal—rising inside me, bitter and heavy, until all I wanted to do was lay on destruction with my fists.
What the fuck? Who does this to their own child? Why?
My family. My crazy family. Every secret seemed to be wrapped in another layer of secrets, inside another, and another, with no straight answers,
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