Jolfer had given Q no word of travel time or arrival expectation. He hadn’t mentioned if they’d be travelling tonight or a week from now.
If Elder was badly injured, they might stay away for his safety before attending to mine—especially if he was unconscious to make the call to come for me.
God, I’m exhausted.
I couldn’t rest because I didn’t know what the future would unravel. I couldn’t make friends because I didn’t know if they should still be my enemies. Anarchy could happen or a truce could form.
Already, my insides clenched at the thought of more bloodshed. Good intentions had led to bad screw-ups. Was it right that pain must be the price, or could I somehow reason with Elder?
And if I could reason with him…did I have the right to take away the ending he would need to assure himself I was safe?
Ah, be quiet, Pim. You’re driving yourself mad.
Rubbing my temples, I crossed the foyer and entered the warm lounge where floor lamps glowed and a fire roared. Immediately, I searched the corners of the room for Q.
Did I owe him enough to warn him that Elder had a helicopter? Did I give him a heads-up that my lover had a temper and share the grisly story of what’d happened to the last men who hurt me—that they were now bloated and decomposing corpses in a house somewhere in Crete?
As much as I hated Q for shooting Elder, I didn’t want this family to suffer. Q didn’t deserve to die for his mistake, and his wife and son definitely didn’t deserve to be punished.
Running my fingers along the hem of my newly acquired grey jumper, I made a promise to intercept Elder when he arrived. I’d tell him as quickly as I could that it wasn’t what he thought and to listen to me.
I’d do my best to end this nightmare peacefully.
Then again, perhaps Elder was in a hospital somewhere and all my worry was for nothing. Selix or Jolfer might be the ones to take me home, and they would be more open to discussion.
Home…
Terrifying to think if Elder had died, the Phantom was no longer my home. I would’ve lost everything I’d come to love all in one night.
My morbid thoughts tormented me as I stole into the kitchen and unwillingly gate-crashed dinnertime with Tess’s son.
Q wasn’t around, but Tess sat on a barstool in front of the high chair holding her baby, pulling strange faces and making airplane noises while swooping a spoon with mashed orange goo into the boy’s mouth.
He gurgled as his toothless gums chomped on the spoon, most of it hitting his bib and only some providing nourishment for the uncoordinated child.
I gasped as a fissuring hunger ripped through me. Hunger, not for food, but for the mess sitting in the high chair and looking at his mother with utmost adoration. What would it feel like to be the moon and stars and everything in between to a creature you created?
I can’t be here.
I can’t watch this.
Backing up, I tripped over a damn dog toy. I hissed between my teeth as pain ripped through my ankle.
Tess looked up. “Ah, did you have a good shower? You look nice. Not as grand as your ballgown but the grey suits you. Brings out the hazel in your eyes.”
Scooping up more orange mash, she wiped the excess off the spoon onto the glass bowl she held. “Don’t run away. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”
Words? Had I once spoken words?
I was mute through and through, terrified of the opportunity to spend time with her infant. I didn’t know if I wanted to bolt away or snatch him.
She grinned, following my eyes as they locked onto the messy baby. “Abelino.”
The strange word wriggled through my emotional tangle. “Excuse me?”
She cupped her child’s cheek, smearing away stray orange. “His name is Abelino. Lino for short.”
“Oh.”
“It’s French. Long story.” She layered more dinner onto the spoon and managed to get it into her son’s mouth without too much of it smearing his face. “Do you—” She flinched. “Sorry, extremely insensitive question.” Flashing me a pained look, she murmured, “I’ve long since learned not to ask women who stay with us if they have children.”
Lino babbled something, his tiny hands opening and closing as Tess guided more food his way.
Staring at him but talking to me, she said, “Sometimes, I think having Lino around does more harm than good when they’re healing.”
The thought of running away faded, thanks to Tess’s humanity and the uncertainty in her voice.
Moving closer, I dared ask something I already knew had no good answer. “Why?”
She flashed me a glance. “Well, if they’re old enough to have children before they were stolen, then they’ve missed out on potentially years of their upbringing. To their family, they were dead only to come back broken and possibly never able to be the mum they remembered.” She shrugged helplessly. “And if they didn’t have children before their abduction but do now…. Well, that means those infants were born of pain and torture to men who made their lives living hell.”