Page 111 of Unveil
Once I knocked that off my list, I went to the Wildes. Orion’s worried about them, certainly. That’s why we’re going at a speed that’s as breakneck as my body will allow.
My pain tolerance is dwindling back to normal, sheer exhaustion burning off my hypomania like the sun to the mist this afternoon. Hypomanic episodes aren’t ideal,obviously, but the reality of this disorder is there are some perks to riding the high… until there really aren’t.
That last part is something my mom has drilled into me, and I’ve seen it firsthand. In the middle of the wilderness, an extended episode could’ve been disastrous, so I’m glad I’m coming down. I just hope we can get to safety before my mood does what it always does. Plummets.
I guess there’s plenty on my mind too. If I can’t figure out why he’s being so quiet, maybe I can at least find out answers to my own questions.
“One of the Wildes seemed shocked that I had a knife,” I begin. Orion’s gaze drags from the fire to mine. “Why is that? It’s just a knife. Women can have knives too. Do Wilde girls use spoons for everything?”
He snorts, but there’s little humor in it. “It’s not ‘just a knife.’ It’s a Fury knife. There’s rules about weapons out here too. The first is don’t touch a dead man’s weapon. The second is that family knives are sacred. The Furys get ours after coming home from Survival Week. From that moment on, we never, ever give them up. Not unless it’s to someone we trust and care about.”
My knee stops bouncing as that sinks in. “And you gave yours to me.”
“Yeah, little bird. I gave mine to you.” He tilts his head sadly. “I hope by now, you realize that I’d give you anything. That you cantrustme with anything too. You know that, right?”
I nod slowly, unsure why that sounded like a vow and a plea all at once.
After a moment, he sighs like he’s disappointed. His gaze returns to the fire, and we fall back into a wordless discomfort. I’d hoped to distract him with the question, get him out of his own head like he did with me the other night, but I’m afraid I only made it worse.
The bags underneath his eyes are deeper in the flickering dark. His beard looks soft to the touch but hollows his cheeks. He sits across from me on the stump he dragged to our camp, elbows propped on his knees, hands hanging between his legs.
There’s something that’s eating him up from the inside, and the catalyst I’ve tried to avoid confronting comes to a head.
“What did my dad say to you?” I ask a little sharper than I intended.
Something like guilt flickers with the firelight in his eyes.
“Shit.” He swallows, then swipes a hand down his face. “It wasn’t so much your dad.” My nose wrinkles in confusion as he continues, “It was your mom.”
“Mymom?” I chuckle. “What on earth could she have?—”
The words lodge in my throat as he slips a pill bottle from his jeans pocket. The one Benoit carried.
Dammit.
Orion turns it over in his hands, idly studying it, then holds it up between his index finger and thumb.
His voice is rough when he finally speaks. “Why didn’t you tell me you have bipolar disorder?”
For the first time in days, I’m speechless. My tongue literally won’t move, my lips glued together, teeth clenched. My burning cheeks have nothing to do with the fire.
But he doesn’t relent, waiting patiently as ever.
I swallow. “She told you?”
He nods, then lightly tosses the pill bottle from one hand to the other.
“That wasn’t her story to tell,” I snap, grasping for anger, indignation, anything other than humiliation IknowI shouldn’t feel.
“Nah, don’t give me that,” he chides. “She’s a momma worried about her daughter. And she wouldn’t have had to tell me”—he points with the pill bottle, voice firm—“ifyouhad. So…” His voice gentles. “Why didn’t you?”
My tongue stays stuck to the roof of my mouth.
He rolls his lips between his teeth, gears clearly turning as he tries to figure me out.
“You know you don’t have to be… embarrassed, right? I care about you. In my family, marriage means what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine. Good. Bad. Sick. Healthy. I’m there for it all.”
My heart takes flight, words that are way too freaking soon to say bounce around my mind, and not an ounce of pushback is left in me.
