Page 32 of Forever Frenzy
His golden eyes fastened on mine. “There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be than with you.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I kept silent.
“How did you find Sekhmet?” he asked. “All we saw was you crushing her at the fountain.”
“Do you hate me?” I asked.
He ticked his head back. “How could I hate you?”
“For killing your sister.”
Roman hated me for killing Pierce, and I didn’t blame him. Even if we were okay now, what I did wasn’t. I couldn’t fix it, and I couldn’t ease his pain.
Tage stepped up to the hammock. “Move over.”
Uh…. I slid over as much as I could as he eased into the woven strands. We swayed back and forth while it settled, but Tage couldn’t get comfortable. There was nowhere to put his arm, so I raised my head and he slid it behind.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
It was okay. Uncomfortably comforting, but okay.
He stared at the sky as it burst with stars. “Sekhmet was my sister. She wasn’t always evil, though. When we were children, I didn’t spend much time with her. Being the first born son wasn’t easy, and there were a lot of expectations surrounding the title. I spent time learning about the kingdom while my other siblings’ nursemaids played with them. Sekhmet resented the attention shown to me by our father, but I hated it. I would’ve traded places with her in a heartbeat.”
“She was still your sister, Tage.”
“She hadn’t been my sister for a very long time. Dark magic made her a shadow of her former self, a perversion of the small girl who looked longingly toward my father for attention. She was evil. The very fact that she hurt Saul meant I would have killed her myself.”
“Why?” I whispered.
“Because he raised my son when I wasn’t able to. Because he stood in my place when I couldn’t be there. And for the simple factthat you loved Saul and she took him from you. She hurt you, and I would end her for that alone.”
Again, I was speechless.
“I love you, Porschia,” he added unnecessarily. “And I’ll spend the rest of eternity telling you that. I’ll spend even longer showing you if you’ll open up to me.”
We sat in the darkness beneath the glittering sky, Tage’s fingers lazily drawing circles on my arm, until the sun rose again. It was in those moments that I realized the night was never nearly long enough here.
The days spent in The Sand slowed to a crawl while life in the real world sped by too fast. I projected to Seth, Ford and Amy, Mercedes and Roman and their kids, and Father, on a regular basis. We’d worked out a schedule and my life was mostly full.
The emptiness Saul left behind was finally filled with knowing my loved ones were still thriving, but then things took a turn for the worse. It always did. Life was peppered with sadness. It was only the moments of happiness that made it bearable.
Father, who spent more time being confused than lucid, fell asleep one night and didn’t wake up. Mercedes came to the clearing and screamed for me until her throat was raw and her fingers frozen. When I opened the doorway she fell inside, clinging to me and sobbing. We cried together until the sand cooled, the night descended, and she figured her kids might be wondering if she would ever return.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” I confided.
“Roman stayed the night, but he didn’t know anything was wrong until he checked on him this morning,” she said. “He wanted to be buried in the cemetery. I’m sorry you can’t come to the service.”
“It’s okay.” My heart broke, but it was okay. What goodwould it do if I could attend? None. It wouldn’t bring him back. It wouldn’t make it easier for our family. He was gone and he left a hole in all of our hearts.
Tage hovered the same way Saul did when I thought Tage had died. Saul loved me then.Just as Tage loves me now.
“I’m sorry, Porschia.” Three words. Three tiny, insignificant words broke my heart.
“No sorrier than I am,” I answered.
Father didn’t die from a curse or from evil. Old age had claimed his body and mind; however, his death was equally as hard to bear. Death: the great equalizer. I’d read that somewhere. Didn’t matter if you were rich or poor, old or young, good or bad. Death didn’t discriminate.
