Page 89 of A Breath of Life
It took over an hour since our communication was limited to writing, but Diem broke down his entire encounter from the night he was kidnapped, how he was overcome in a parking garage, and woke up in a strange room. He explained about the live video feed at the nursing home and how he wasn’t allowed to make contact with Evergreen Estates in any way, shape, or form. He described the multiple photographs of me taken as I’d searched for Diem on the night he went missing. He explained the frustrating little he remembered about where he’d been held and how he’d been trying to narrow down a location, figuring it was somewhere in Old Toronto.
After we’d gone through everything, he circled back to the beginning and my initial remark.You ran into the Bishop?
It sounds like the same guy.I told him about the encounter, and then I explained about Mr. Hi Glitter Converse from the previous night. Diem cursed out loud, throwing the pen across the room before getting up and pacing like a trapped animal.
“That motherfucker.” He slapped a wall, making Echo whine and approach him. Without the use of pen or paper, he turned on me and growled, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
Echo bumped his leg, and Diem dropped a hand on her head, tangling his fingers in her fur.
I wasn’t sure whether I should speak aloud or write. Pressing my lips together in a firm line, I tried to convey with my eyes that he hadn’t given me a choice. His cagey behavior had forced me into a box and made me suspicious.
Whether he understood or not, Diem retrieved the pen and sat. Echo laid her head on his lap, and he continued to pet her. He visibly calmed down with her presence.
For a long time, he stared at the page full of communication we had shared before his troubled gaze met mine. So much torment. The ever-present storm stirred and brewed inside his gray eyes. The man looked utterly exhausted. Had he slept at all since arriving home? I didn’t think so. Not well.
I got up and rounded the desk. “I’ve got this, girl.” I encouraged Echo to give me space. “My turn.”
Diem didn’t object when I removed the pen from his hand and tossed it aside. I wedged my knees in the tight gaps beside his thighs and sat on his lap. His hands automatically landed on my hips before he folded me in his arms, crushing me to his body in a hug.
Relief poured off him in waves. He trembled and clawed at my shirt like he couldn’t get close enough. Keeping this monumental secret had clearly taken a toll on him.
I brought my mouth to his ear and whispered, “I don’t think they’re listening, Guns.” If they were, my opening statement would have been enough to trigger a problem. I’d basically announced that I knew everything by tossing my theory on the table without a single fuck to give, but nothing had happened.
“I don’t trust them.” Diem’s voice was so low I could barely hearhim. “What about Nana? Please, Tallus. Be careful.”
“I will. I know nothing.”
He buried his face in the crook of my neck, and if I didn’t know him better, I would have said he whimpered. “If anything happened to you.”
“It won’t.”
“But if it did.” He squeezed me tightly and it almost hurt. I didn’t make a sound, enduring, knowing he would hate himself for using strength enough to cause pain.
When he relaxed, I drew his battered face up, cradling it between my palms. “I can help, Diem.”
His agony was protest enough, but I was fierce and determined, and fuck these people for doing this to him. He might fear for my safety, but I feared for his the same. Diem’s mental health was fragile on a good day. He didn’t need this.
My words were barely a whisper as I said, “You aren’t doing this alone. Not anymore.”
I kissed him hard and possessively. Diem was born a lone wolf. He grew up fighting against a world that he didn’t think wanted him. He endured, but he did not thrive. Since we started dating, I’d seen him learn to relax, to exhale when all he’d ever known how to do was inhale. We were a team, and teams shared burdens. Now that I had a clearer picture of what we were up against, we could deal with the obstacles together.
“Tallus,” he said against my mouth, half a whimper, half a heartrending plea. “If they hurt you, I could never—”
“They won’t.”
“I would die.”
“They won’t. You can’t get rid of me that easily, Guns. I plan to pester and annoy you until we’re old and gray. We’ll find Clarence.” Quieter, I added, “We’ll find these pieces of shit. No one hurts what is mine.”
He chuckled, but it was almost a wet sob. “Christ, Tallus. This is not an invitation for you to go in guns blazing on a mission of revenge.”
“Fucking right it is. They hurt you.”
“Shh. Not so loud.” He kissed me, his fervor amplified. “I still don’t trust that they can’t hear us.”
“Percentage of uncertainty?”
He rested his forehead against mine, closing his eyes as he considered. “I’m about eighty percent sure they can’t. Not through the card, at least. My phone? I don’t know.”
