I shrug my shoulders. How fucked up would it be for me to be safe when I didn’t do the same for Rolly? I should suffer the same fate.
“What the hell, Oliver?”
“You can’t begin to understand what I’m going through.”
“So, tell me.”
I snarl. “What do you want me to say? That I hate myself and I can barely stand to look in the mirror? That I don’t deserve to be protected when I failed my son so miserably? You told me over and over again about the risks, but I didn’t listen. And look where it got us. All of us. I damn near lost you both that night. Because of what? My pride? Fuck.” I yank at my hair and stumble across the room, collapsing on the couch. “Let me get what I deserve.”
“No. None of this is on you. Isn’t that what you told me?” She falls to her knees in front of me.
I look over her shoulder, avoiding the hypnotic pull of her gaze. “Your case is different.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Did you lose a child, Quinn?” I bark.
I feel her flinch. “No. I get that you’re upset. You want to rage at the world? Do it. You want to grieve? I’m by your side. But if you want to destroy yourself and do things I know you’ll live to regret later, I have to speak up.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t need to.”
“Damnit, Quinn, I don’t want to be saved. Just leave me.” The words bounce off the high ceilings.
“Too bad. Because I’m just as st
ubborn as you are, and I aim to make them pay for the shit they pulled. Right now we’re marionettes dangling on strings. They pull, and we jerk. They change the background settings, and we’re fucked.” She slaps the couch cushions beside me “No more, Oliver.”
I peer down at her and see the determination. She believes what she’s saying. I wish I could, too.
“Don’t you get it yet? We’re powerless against them. They have kamikaze humans who don’t mind exploding on contact.”
“I refuse to believe that. We’ve let them have enough power over us.”
I shake my head. There was a time when I’d believe her, but now I’m too damn tired. So weary the very core of my being hurts. Every day I go to sleep, I wake up to a nightmare when I don’t remember Rolly is gone. Then it all comes back, and I relive everything. I feel like my brain is going to explode.
“Quinn, I’m not a whole man anymore. The Ollie you knew is dead, and he’s never coming back.”
“Maybe not, but there are pieces of him that still exist under the surface. I can see them. No matter how you try to suppress him.” She grips my shirt lapels and yanks. “Now we’re going to get you in the shower because you stink and I won’t even try to guess how much alcohol you have swimming through your veins. This’ll help sober you up.”
I swat her hands away. “I don’t want to be sober. This is the only way I can function. Through a fucking haze. Because what I feel is a never-ending wave of pain, guilt, and remembering all at the same time. Would you want to be on the receiving end of that?”
She shakes her head as the tears stream down her face. I’m numb, angry, and using everything inside of me not to bite her head off.
“I-I am so, so sorry.” Her shoulders shake as she rests her head against my forehead and cups the back of my head. Her gentleness breaks the wall I’ve built up inside of me.
Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her tight. “Roland’s dead and I’m never going to see him again.” The words spill forth, and I can’t stop them. “Oh my God, what am I going to do without my little boy? He never hurt anyone. Why him? He was going to do great things. Now I’ll never see any of it. He was the best thing I ever did in my entire life, and now he’s just gone.” I slump against her, and we sink to the ground together.
I purge until there’s nothing left. My stomach rolls, and I pull away and dash to the bathroom. I hit my knees and empty my stomach. She’s there, an angel I don’t deserve with a cool washcloth on the back of my neck. I flush the toilet, and she wipes my mouth and runs a bath. I hate to see myself through her eyes. I’m a pitiful excuse for a man. I couldn’t even keep my family safe. Family. As she strips me down, I realize I count her as that. So I let her scrape me up off the floor and get me into the pool of warm water. She touches me gently as she washes me down and I mentally cling to her. I failed Rolly. I can’t do the same with her, too. I can’t walk away until this is all said and done and she’s safe. I cling to the mission.
She sheds her clothes, adds more hot water, and lays on my chest. The skin to skin contact makes me think maybe one day things will be okay.
I ROLL HER ONTO HER back and pull her onto my lap, careful to remain gentle. She presses her palms to my chest and rolls her hips, grinding into my crotch.
“Are you okay to do this?” I ask shakily.
“I guess so, ’cause we’re going to. It’s the last chance we’ll have before we have permanent guests.” She wraps her arms around my neck, and toys with the hair at my nape. Her touch is a calming agent among the chaos living in my brain. I pull her close and run my hand up her back, careful not to press into the bandages I helped her change. We’ve reversed our roles. Now I’m the mental wreck, and she’s the wounded one in need of care. I massage her neck and flinch as she reaches down and palms me, stroking my cock.