Page 109 of Villainous Fate

The Sound of Silence - Disturbed

Unsteady - X Ambassadors

In the Stars - Benson Boone

Chapter 52

Deacon

WhenIfinallymakeit to her, the diner is about to close. Getting away from the packhouse took longer than expected, and playing the dutiful son was exhausting. Giovanni knew I was holding back information, but I didn’t care. I didn’t do any of this for him; I did it for her.

Rain pours down outside as I pull open the door. I spot her immediately, her back to me as she fills a water glass for the couple sitting there. Her conversation’s friendly, and my chest tightens, love surging within me.

Oh, how I’ve missed that voice.

It’s exactly as I remember it. What surprises me most is her hair, which she almost always has braided. Instead, it’s in large curls that bounce when she moves. It makes her seem older, more mature.

She lays the check on the table with a smile before turning toward me and freezing in place. For a long moment, we just stare at each other, her not believing I’m here, me drinking in her presence before I slowly step toward her.

“D…” she says, not moving.

My arms wrap around her, and the broken parts of me click back into place. I tuck my nose into the curls she has falling freely over her shoulder, inhaling her coffee and cinnamon scent as her body leans tentatively against my chest. As if she doesn’t believe that I’m really here.

“I’m home, Tails. I made it back to you,” I whisper as she pulls back to look at me again. Tears fill her eyes, and I see what looks like longing in them.

“I knew you would,” she says, pulling back and collecting herself. “Have a seat. I’ll make you your favorite, and you can tell me all about your time away,” she says, removing herself from my grasp. I immediately feel the cold of her absence; all I want is her back against me.

“I don’t need anything but you,” I say, grabbing for her hand to pull her back, but she's already turning and heading to the kitchen, so I slide into my regular seat and wait for her to return.

The last table of customers heads home for the night as she walks back out with my plate: a triple cheeseburger and loaded fries with extra ranch.

“See you next week, Brenda. Bye, Benny,” Grace says with a wave, her cheery voice sounding forced.

She sits in front of me and slides into the other side of the booth, finally taking a break now that they are officially closed.

For a moment, I just stare at her, taking in her dark circles and pale skin, analyzing the tension in her shoulders and the weariness of her eyes.

She looks nothing like the girl I left behind eight months ago. That girl had sun-kissed skin and a thousand-watt smile, conviction in her voice, and sass in her attitude. As she sits before me, she looks as broken as I’ve felt all these months, and a stab of guilt hits me for putting her through this. Her gaze doesn’t meet mine as it dances between the food and the table.

“Look at me, Tails,” I say, needing her eyes on me so I can drink in every expression. She exhales as if preparing herself and levels them on mine.

“I’m so sorry I left you. Every day, all I wanted was to quit and return home. It took everything in me to stay away. But I made it back. Back to you, to us,” I say, needing her to know we can do this, but sadness fills those crystal eyes, and it takes everything to stay on my side of the table. “I can see you aren’t okay. Tell me what's wrong, and I’ll fix it. Has Greg been messing with you again? Does your dad need something? You mentioned something about bills?” I rattle off, trying to help, trying to bring back the light that used to fill her eyes.

“You can’t. You can’t fix it, Deacon. No one can,” she says, her voice almost a whisper as she anxiously grabs her apron and wrings it in her hands. Her body slouches, and her eyes drop from mine again.

“Of course I can. There isn’t anything you and I can’t overcome. It’s us against the world, remember Tails? Talk to me, please?” I beg, hating the distance between us, both physically and emotionally.

After a moment, she says, closing her eyes, “I’m eighteen,” and I lean forward, barely sure I heard her.

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