“And I’m not going six fucking weeks without seeing you. I’ve explained this.”
“We’ll see,” Dom mumbles, clear hurt shining in his eyes. He’s just as terrified as I am about our impending separation. Sean’s been just as antsy, playing joker and acting out a little more to hide his apprehension about me leaving. My only comfort is that they’ll have each other.
“Why Paris? Why so far?” Sean asks as I split my gaze between them. It’s clear the ticking of my last days are taking a toll, which cracks me dead center.
“Put her bottles back and pack up right now—it’s time you know.”
“Know what?” Dom asks.
“That everything I’m doing is for you.”
“I fail to see the logic, brother.”
“And when you do, I’ll make you eat those fucking words.” I turn to Sean. “Grab Tyler and your gear and be back here in half an hour.”
Sean opens the window. “On it.”
“Sean,” I call to him, and he pauses with one leg out the window, “why don’t you try using the front door?”
He gives me his signature grin. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Shaking my head, I turn my focus on my brother, who studies me curiously. “Where are we going?”
“My spot.”
This shuts him up. He’s been begging me for years to take him with me, but I never have, until tonight. He’d followed me once, and I caught him halfway and walked his ass straight back to the house. My spot has always been the one place I find a little solace, where my chaotic thoughts and panic morph into something more definable. Where I can make sense of more than I question. And I’ve never wanted to share it, until now.
Dread fills me when I think of leaving him in this shithole, and at Delphine’s mercy, but he’s thick-skinned enough to endure it, and his confidence more than makes up for any of his other shortcomings—I made sure of it. I may have overshot some on that front by the amount of attitude he’s been giving.
Across the hall, I shove a few days’ worth of clothes into my duffle, just as Delphine comes in from her shift, eyeing us both from the hallway before opting for my bedroom.
“Where are you two going?”
“Camping. We’ll be back in a few days. What do you need?”
“Nothing,” she crosses her arms from my door, watching me pack. “Thank you for paying the electric bill.” With my parents’ death settlement, I’ve arranged to pay a few of her bills for the first year I’m in France, but I refuse to tell her that. To someone like Delphine, that’s permission to go on a bender, and she’s been attempting to dry up recently, at least on a more functional and less destructive level.
“You good for the rest of the month?” I fold my shirt for the third time.
He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay.
Frustrated, I unfold it again and restart the process, feeling her eyes on me.
“What?”
“Even if I wasn’t okay, I don’t want a dime of that piece of shit’s money. I’ll starve first.”
“Yeah, well, it’s necessary for me. Don’t let my brother suffer because of your prejudice,” I warn her. “He’s suffered enough.”
“Why camping?”
“We have a lot to discuss.”
She bites her lip, steps in, and shuts the door. “You’re sure this is what you want to do?”
“We’ve gone over this.”