God help them both, but if he walked down to her, he was going to take her.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that John was signing something.
It took every ounce of self-control to force his head toward the kid.
She was so worried about you. She's been waiting out here with us - she thought you had been injured.
"Oh. . . well, shit. "
She loves you.
Okay, well, didn't that make him want to crap in his pants. "Nah, she's just. . . you know, a compassionate person. "
John cleared his throat, even though his hands were doing the talking. I guess I didn't know that you guys were this serious.
Thinking of how upset the kid had been, Tohr waved away the comment. "No, I mean, it's no big deal. Honest. I know who I love - and who I belong with. "
Except that brush-off didn't feel right, not on his tongue, not to his ears. . . not to the center of his chest.
I'm sorry about. . . you know, losing it before, John signed. It's just. . . Wellsie's the only mother I had, and. . . I don't know. The idea of you with someone else makes me want to throw up - even though that's not fair.
Tohr shook his head and dropped his voice. "Don't you ever apologize for caring about our female. And as for the love thing, I gotta say it again. In spite of what it looks like from the outside, I will love one and only one female for the rest of my life. No matter what I do, who I'm with, or how things appear, you can take that shit to the bank, son. We clear?"
John's rough embrace was difficult to bear - because letting down the kid had been a killer, and it was tough not to worry about doing it again in some way.
It was also hard because Tohr's convictions were heartfelt and honest. . . as well as Wellsie's doom. Weren't they.
God, was he ever going to find a way out of this mess?
As that panicky thought occurred to him, he shifted his eyes and looked down the way to No'One's slight, still form.
Behind her, Lassiter stepped out and just stared back at him, the disappointment in the guy's face so apparent, it was clear he'd somehow heard what had been said.
Maybe all of it.
Chapter Forty-Five
As Tohr walked off toward No'One, John resumed tending his little patch of linoleum outside of Qhuinn's room.
On some level, he didn't want to see the Brother go down the hall to that other female. It seemed fundamentally wrong, as if one of the laws of the universe had decided to run in reverse. Hell, paralleling it with his own life, the idea that there would ever be another female aside from Xhex for him was anathema: Even though he was in constant agony without her, he still loved her so much, he was asexual.
Then again. . . she was still alive.
And you couldn't argue that the relationship hadn't been good for Tohr. He was back to the size he'd been when John had first met him, huge, hard, and strong. And come on, he hadn't walked into a death trap of a gunfight or leaped off a bridge in, like, months.
Good thing Qhuinn had taken up the slack on that one. Yay.
Besides, No'One was tough not to approve of: She was very nonbimbo. . . quiet. Unassuming. Not at all bad to look at.
There were so many worse candidates out there in the world. Gold diggers. Stuck-up glymera types. Spacy, big-breasted gigglers.
Letting his head fall back against the concrete wall, he closed his eyes as he heard the pair of them talking. Soon enough, the voices stopped and he assumed they'd taken off, likely to go to bed -
Okay, he was so not going there.
Left to his little lonesome, he listened to Blay's soft breathing and occasional repositioning of limbs, resolutely keeping his mind off Xhex.
Funny, this stretch of wait-and-worry felt like old times. . . he and Blay waiting on Qhuinn.