Page 60 of Map of Pain
“Don’t fight back. Don’t try to leave. Say the right words when he wanted to hear them.”Nick’s hand tightened over the brand’s location.“He liked to... carve things. Into skin. Words. Reminders of who I belonged to.”
“Jesus, Nick.”Caleb’s hands twisted together.“Did he... I mean,wereyou...?”He stopped, swallowed hard, started again. “Werethere other things? Besides the physical torture?”
Nick could see Caleb struggling with the question, could see him wanting to ask directly, but being terrified of the answer. The careful way he phrased it, the way his voice dropped to almost a whisper—he knew. Or suspected.
“Yeah,”Nick said simply, not making Caleb voice what they both knew hewasasking. “There were other things.”
Caleb closed his eyes, like the confirmation wasphysically painful. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”Nick’s voice came out sharper than he intended.“Don’t apologize for things thatweren’tyour fault.”
They sat in heavy silence, the weight of the conversation settling between them. Caleb kept glancing at Nick like he wanted to say something comforting but didn’t know what words could possibly help.
“The Society found me,”Nick continued, needing to fill the quiet.“The leader, Shaw, saidthey’dbeen tracking him. That Iwaslucky they got there when they did.”His laugh was bitter. “Funny thing about luck.”
“They helped you?”
“They cleaned me up. Got me medical attention. Taught me how to fight.”Nick’s voice grew distant.“But they also taught me that what happened to mewasnormal. That all vampires are like that. That the only way to make sure it never happened to anyone elsewasto kill them all.”
“But Luka isn’t like that.”
“No.”Nick softened.“He’s not. And Marcus isn’t either, is he?”
Caleb shook his head.“Marcus would never... he asks permission for everything. Even little things. He’s careful with me.”
“Good.” Nick meant it. “You deserve that.”
More quiet.
This is ridiculous, I should be able to have a conversation with my brother.
“Tell me about Marcus,”Nick said eventually, because he needed to fill the quiet with something lighter.“Is he...?”The question felt too big to finish.
Caleb’s face brightened.“He’s good to me. Really good. He gets excited about superhero movies and brags about his daughter constantly, even though she’s terrifying sometimes.”His voice grew softer.“He makes me coffee every morning exactly how I like it.”
A soft whistle drifted from inside the trailer—a clear C note with a rising intonation. Nick responded with a steady C:I’m okay.
Caleb blinked. “What was that?”
Heat flooded Nick’s face. He didn’t intend to respond so automatically.“It’s... we have signals. When we can’t talk. Hewaschecking if I’m okay.”
“Oh.”Caleb studied his expression with growing understanding.“You care about him.”
Nick’s blush deepened.“I... yeah. I do.”
“Good.”Caleb’s voicewasfirm, but gentle.“You deserve that, too. Good things, I mean.”
Before he could think better of it, he reached over and awkwardly patted Caleb’s shoulder. His brother leaned into the contact, and they sat like that for a moment—not quite hugging, but connected.
“I love you,”Nick said, the words feeling rusty from disuse.“I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I love you too,”Caleb whispered back. “And I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”
When they pulled apart, bothwerecrying a little. Caleb wiped his eyes and glanced toward the trailer door.“Marcus is probably wearing a groove in the floor by now. He gets anxious when he can’t check on people.”
“Luka too, probably.”Nick stood and offered Caleb his hand.“Should we...?”
“Yeah. Before they both pace themselves into the ground.”
