Page 115 of Covenant

Love.

I love Matthias.

Fuck.

Talk about the worst possible time to have a revelation.

By the time I get myself moving again, Matthias is gone. I take the stairs two at a time to find him in our room. He’s standing like a mannequin in the center, eyes fixed on nothing.

I circle him slowly. “Are you injured?”

He doesn’t answer. It’s like I’m not here. Well, fuck that.

“Matt,” I snap in his face until his gaze finally fixes on mine. “Are. You. Injured?”

“No,” his voice rasps, like he’s been shouting. Or perhaps not used it at all for a while. “You’re still here.”

I roll my eyes. “Where the fuck else did you expect me to be, huh? You picked up a gun and fuckingleftme here.”

His gaze slips away. “I did what I had to do.”

I grind my teeth together. I need answers, but ensuring Matt’s safety takes first priority. “Strip.”

His lips twitch, a ghost of a smirk that died far too early. “Don’t think this is really the time.”

I step into his space, pulling my lips back in a snarl. “Don’t fucking test me, Matt. Not tonight. Strip. Now.”

He does as I demand, passing over his clothes into my waiting hands. “Go and shower. Make sure you don’t leave a drop of blood behind.”

He rolls his eyes. It’s like he’s coming back to the man I know with every moment in my company. “Believe it or not, I do know what I’m doing.”

I look up at him coldly from where I’m kneeling in front of the fireplace. “Right now, I don’t even know who you are.”

He flinches, stepping back like I’ve punched him. “I deserve that.”

“Shower,” I repeat, turning my attention to the tiny flames. “Then we can talk.”

He leaves without another word. While he showers, I slowly feed each item of blood-stained clothing into the flames.

Now you’re an accessory to whatever crime he’s committed.

That thought doesn’t bother me as much as it should. What’s stressing me out more is what Matthias is doing and why.

Most importantly, why the fuck he’s hidden it from me.

When he emerges in a cloud of steam, I’m ready for him. The flames are burning merrily, taking all evidence up the chimney. My own hands have been scrubbed clean in one of the other bathrooms. I’m holding a glass of whiskey as I sit on the sofa. I toyed with the idea of not bringing Matt one, but I think it’s needed.

For both of us.

He doesn’t bother to dress, sitting on the sofa beside me in just his towel. “Where’s the gun?”

“In the bathroom,” he stares at the flames. “I’ll clean it and return it to the safe later.”

“Are you going to change the code?”

His eyes meet mine wearily. “Do I need to?”

I gulp down some whiskey, relishing the burn, letting it ground me. “I should say yes. That’s the normal thing to say, right?”

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