Page 45 of Violent Reign (Violent Kingdom)

Then he claps me on the shoulder. “I have to move Indigo, the kids,” he whispers. “If they’re looking for you, they’ll turn up at our place soon. I have to find them a safe place until this blows over.” We’ve been talking quietly so we don’t wake my mother, who sleeps peacefully through me recounting the second-longest nightmare of my life. My dad’s eyes, by contrast, look haunted. Worn. And for a flash, I see him the way he was when I was growing up. When he was a true Montague. Before. “Let me pack them up, and then I’ll be back. I’m going to help you, son. Okay? I’ll help you get Avery back. Whatever it takes.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

ROME

My dad’sbeen gone for less than five minutes when my mother stirs, blinking slowly. I drop into the chair next to her bed and take her hand. Quick—make it look like nothing’s wrong. Make it look like I came here to see her. Not that she’ll remember in five minutes. It’s more for me. I want to be a good son, even if I’m a horrifying piece of shit in the rest of my life.

“Hey, Mom.” I stroke her hair back away from her forehead and she curls toward me, almost purring at the sound. “Sorry to wake you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” she says lazily. “It must have been the baby.”

The baby has been a constant topic of conversation since my baby brother Seb died in the house fire. Nobody can get through to her that Sebastian died—nobody. Her mind won’t accept it. Her mind also won’t do anything else but dwell in a five-minute sliver of the past. Sometimes the present sneaks through, and it breaks my fucking heart. But even in her most lucid present, her baby son lived.

“Must have been.”

She smiles, eyes fluttering closed. “Did you come to talk?”

“Of course I did. I was wondering what you’ve been up to.” Besides living here, in this living space that’s more like a hospital room with round-the-clock care. “Any news?”

“Mmm.” The smile gets bigger, until it’s almost disturbingly wide. “Your brother Sebastian came to visit me.”

“Did he?”

“Oh, yes.” She opens her eyes and serenely meets my gaze. “He came to see me. He was so pleasant. Stayed for so long.”

Coming from anybody else, this would be a dig. Coming from my mother, it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I know she’s talking about the baby she lost, but this is different. This isn’t the usual commentary about the baby crying, the baby waking her up. I press her hair back over her ear. “Babies have a hard time visiting by themselves, Mom. Don’t you think?”

“I know. It’s a good thing Seb grew up so well. He’s so handsome, your brother. So gorgeous.”

I can’t fucking help it. I know it’s useless to try, but I can’t help it. “You know Sebastian can’t visit you,” I snap. “He’s dead, Mom. He died. Remember?”

She furrows her eyebrows, confused, and I get a brief flicker of my mother from Before. She was a different person then, too. None of us are the same. “But Rome, he did visit me. He’s not a baby anymore, is he? I just call him that. He’s all grown up now. He stayed for so long and held my hand. It wasn’t even very long ago. I was so tired—” A huge yawn. “I was so tired when he left that I went to bed early.”

Going to bed early means something else when you’re already in bed most of the day. I’m not even sure if she made her daily trek to the armchair by the window, which is as far as my mother goes. The window. The bathroom. That’s it. On her very best days, she’ll eat with the other patients in a communal sitting room. That hasn’t happened in more than a year.

I’m a fucking asshole, trying to shatter her illusion when it brings her peace. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I say past the lump in my throat. “I’m glad you had a nice visit.”

“It was so tiring, Rome. He came and he stayed and stayed.” Her voice drifts, getting farther away, and her eyelashes flutter down to her cheeks. “Took a lot out of me.”

“I bet.” I lean down and press a kiss to her temple. “Go back to sleep, Mom. I’ll come see you again soon.” It’s the whitest of white lies, to tell my mother that I’ll see her soon. She doesn’t have any sense of time left, so every visit is its own island in an endless sea of time. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she breathes, and when I’m sure she’s asleep, I get up and tiptoe out of the room.

The nurse’s station down the hall is a blue, circular creation that lets the nurses roll around on wheely chairs in the middle. One of them—pink scrubs—hops up from her seat when she sees me coming. “Visiting hours are just about finished.” Her gaze is wary, and I don’t blame her in the least. I’m a tattooed criminal. Literally. “Is there anything I can help you with? How’s your mother? Busy day for her.” The nurse gives me a tentative smile.

Busy day could mean anything. Settle the fuck down, Rome.

“She’s asleep.” I run a hand over my hair. “Did she have any other visitors today? Aside from my father. He was in there with me and left a little while ago.”

Pink Scrubs nods. “Just one other. He stayed most of the day, actually.”

“Who?”

“Her son.”

My gut is a block of ice. “I’m her son.”

“Oh.” The nurse purses her lips, the corners of her mouth turning down. “He definitely said he was her son.”

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