Page 100 of Crown of Steel

“Tu viens?” I ask softly.Are you coming?When I feel Régis’s friends watching me curiously, I bare my teeth at them. Fuck them all.

“Oui.” His reply comes soft, but when he gets up and turns around to face me, he has slipped on his well-practiced mask. The one I don’t want.

He straightens his jacket, then looks at Dominique. “Can you please bring the chess board upstairs when you finish?”

“Sure.” Dominique pats Régis’s shoulder in a timid gesture of affinity. “Well, good luck.”

“Thanks. Bye guys.”

They all mumble their replies, but I feel the tension. Good, that means he has told them.

That means he trusts them.

Reaching for him, I pull him close to my chest and kiss his forehead. “Hey you.”

“Hey to yourself.” He looks up, his eyes smiling. “Did you have a nice day?”

“I did. Busy. I didn’t see you here for dinner?” I ask, cupping the back of his head against the crook of my collarbone. His golden locks tickle the thin layer of exposed skin right above my collar, his cheek warming my flesh and my relief. Yes, he must trust me, because he lets me guide him toward the exit.

Régis shrugs. “No, I ate early, then went to the library. I have this presentation for Spanish tomorrow, remember?”

“I do now. Sorry, I’m afraid my own brain has gotten some serious injuries after today’s calculus test. Remind me to drop that subject for my final trimester.”

Régis chuckles and presses himself even closer to my chest. My arm squeezes him tight, holding him in check as we make ourselves outside.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” I growl. The chilly wind seems to blow right through us, and it’s making my bones rattle inside.

“And wet.”

When Amadou sees us coming, he opens the door of the back seats, showering us with that calming smile that always seems to work so well on my little stepbrother. This time is no exception.

“Sirs.” He waits for us to get comfortable, then shuts the door, only to take his own seat behind the wheel. If he’s surprised to see me grabbing hold of my kitten and tucking him against my chest, he doesn’t show. I should be more careful, really. For all I know, he could tell Dad. But when that chocolate gaze searches for Régis, followed by another of his reassuring smiles, my doubts melt. No. He wouldn’t. They have a special connection and it’s based on trust. “It’s a forty-five minute ride,” Amadou continues, “You might want to get comfortable.”

Régis pushes himself a little deeper against my frame, and I pull him so close that he’s glued against me, hip to shoulder.

“D’accord,” he says.

Amadou hums, and the car pulls up and over gravel. “Good, then let’s go.”

One road takes us from the highway to the middle of nowhere.

Toulouse prison is an immense block of concrete and barbed wire, of surrounding fields that appear abandoned. It’s a big place, housing over 3,000 prisoners, making it one of Europe’s largest prisons.

Amadou steers the SUV to one of the closest spots in the large, empty parking lot. When he turns off the engine we all just sit there for a moment in utter silence, waiting.

Régis’s lighter frame is no longer brushed against my chest. No, he has moved over, away from me, to where he now sits with a rigid spine as he peers outside the window in front of him. There’s nothing more than meters and meters of solidmass of misery, surrounded by cables adorned with spines to prevent inmates from climbing the walls.

Finally he turns to face me. Biting his lip, his gaze has become glassy. “I—”

Despite that ferocious flicker in his bright blue eyes, he looks so fucking fragile. It takes a lot for me not to scoop him up and press him tight against my own body, to warm his chilly bones, comfort his worrying mind and kill his demons. I’d slash them all, starting with the monster who’s waiting for me inside that building across from us. The monster who keeps him up at night.

When Régis finally blinks, a tear rolls from his cheek and despite my earlier resolution, my hand shoots out. I want to soothe him so badly, brush his sorrow away, but another part of me hesitates. Because this moment is Régis’s, and I’m just a passenger. Clenching my jaw I keep my hand lingering, in case he…in case he needs me. In case he accepts the comfort that I’m willing to give, even though this is very new territory.

I watch him swiftly brush his own tear away with long, agile fingers.

Yeah, I want him to need me. Because I’m a fucking goner for my little stepbrother.

Régis dips his gaze and looks at my hand, then reaches out his own, hesitant fingers. My heart is beating in my throat, pounding and pounding, as I wait for him to accept me. To accept us.

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