Page 89 of Blackmail
“I was thinking…” I cough. Why is it so hard to say the words? “I was thinking it might be time for me to get going.”
Sebastian looks at me with one raised eyebrow. He doesn’t look pissed so much as sad. Honestly, I don’t know what to do with Sebastian Pierce looking sad.
He leans against the doorjamb. Anyone who didn’t know him would call his pose casual, but I can see the lines of tension running through his body. The twitch of his fingers.
Instead he says, “Is that what you want?”
Fuck. Me. Honestly, the idea of it makes me feel like screaming. But… “Tony is dead because of me. You shot him because of me.”
He sighs quietly and comes forward. Hands in the pockets of his charcoal gray slacks, shirt untucked. Hair disheveled. The sort of way someone might look at the end of a long day. When he stops a foot away from me I can see the dark circles under his eyes and the tight press of his lips.
To see Sebastian Pierce exhausted honestly pains me. It’s all I can do not to reach out and touch his face. His hands twitch as if maybe he wants to do the same to me.
But he doesn’t.
“Tony is dead because of Tony,” he says.
“But I?—”
“Stop.” It’s a command. Quiet, but still a command.
He runs a tired hand over his face. “I’m not saying I’m not conflicted, but, Simon, I wasn’t going to let him harm you. I couldn’t have survived that.”
I open my mouth, but I can’t seem to find the right words. He wouldn’t have survived losing me?
My throat burns.
Sebastian reaches out, and this time he does touch me. A light caress over my cheekbone and my jaw that’s over before it began.
“I meant what I said, Simon. I want to keep you. What’s more, I don’t want anyone else to have you. But I’m not my father. I won’t hold you against your will.”
“I never thought you would.” Suddenly, my vision is awfully blurry.
“I blackmailed you, Simon.”
Maybe it’s fucked up, but I find myself smiling. “Turns out I didn’t mind it so much.”
Tell him you’re in love with him. Tell him you want to stay.
I open my mouth, but it’s nothing but air. Why is it so hard to say?
“I love you too, Simon.”
“You—what?”
Before I can figure out what just happened, he gives me a sad smile and leaves the room.
I’m banging my forehead on the door and chanting “Idiot, idiot” when my brother finds me.
“I’m not the one who’s a nurse, but I’m sure that’s not good for you.”
I turn to find him munching a granola bar with one hand and holding Penelope’s kitty backpack in the other. My cat is making the sort of inhuman noises that suggest she’s trying to summon a demon. Or she’s been possessed by one.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He looks around. “We live here now. I mean, not here-here, but Sebastian said I could take the guest room.”
“Right, but…” What the hell happened while I was sleeping?
