Page 147 of The Fake Divination Offense
But the one risk we can take, the one risk wehaveto take, is letting Bel see his cousins.
Bel and I both are due to start conditioning soon for the next rawball season with the Hellhounds. Before we get too busy with training and travel, we asked Ilbryen to reach out.
It was their choice. Ilbryen asked if they’d feel comfortable being a part of his life again, andgods, waiting on their response was the longest two days of my existence. I did what I could to distract Bel, but he was a wreck, practicing cheer routines in the living room until the late hours of the night, making Thio come over to cook with him, dish after dish we still have stuffed in our freezer.
But they said yes.
Yes, they want to see him.
Yes, they miss him as much as he misses them.
And now, we’re here. Circling a suburban block in a city outside Austin, not far from the town where Bel originally lived with them. Their mother, Bel’s aunt, still lives in his childhood home, but the sisters moved a few years ago. The oldest one, Mila, owns the house we’ve been inadvertently casing.
Bel swallows, his throat clicking against the purr of the engine. “And they’re… they’re both going to be there?” he confirms, even though he very well knows the arrangement.
I flash him a smile. “Yes. Ilbryen set it up with them.”
He scrapes his palms on his baggy whitewashed jeans and snatches my hand off his thigh, clinging to it. I pulse my grip on his fingers and slow into the next turn, taking us onto the house’s road again.
“They miss you,” I say. The same thing I’ve been reminding him of, over and over, in the days since we got the green light to plan this trip. “They want to see you.”
“I know, I know.” He sucks in a breath. “What if this is a bad idea?”
Luckily, no other drivers are on this road, so I let the car drift to barely creeping forward. “What do you mean?”
“What if… what if the cultists come back? And I put Mila and Jemma in danger. Maybe it’s better to stay away. It’s better to not—” He frees one hand to rub at his chest, his voice small. “I don’t want them to get hurt.”
He’s been saying some version of that since we left Philadelphia.It’s easier if I stay away. We’ve changed so much, why would I disrupt their lives like this?
I’ve let him talk, let him get all the worry out, and I’ve waited for him to say what he’s truly afraid of.
But we’re here. No time left.
I pull his hand up to drop a kiss to his knuckles. “It’s easier to keep people at a distance. No one gets hurt that way, right? Not them. Not you.”
Bel peeks up at me. “I’m not… I’m not worried about me,” he says like he’s testing the words. There’s no truth in them.
It’d be easier not to reunite with his cousins, in case he has to leave again.
But we’re not living that way anymore. Neither of us. We love and embrace and open ourselves to all the messy parts that come with those things, because the bad doesn’t get to poison the good. Wedeservethat good. It’s ours.
We arrive at Mila’s house again. This time, when I pull over in front of it, Bel doesn’t protest. He stares at it, his rose-gold face pale.
I tug on his hand. After a beat, he reluctantly looks at me, his irises glistening with tears.
“They understand the risks,” I tell him. “Just like I do. Just like Seb and Thio, and my parents, and Marlow, Darian, Aaron, and Roesia—just like the whole Hellhounds team and cheerleading squad do. Because, Bel,you’re worth the risk.”
Listing all those people makes my eyes heat.
Gods, we’re so loved.
“We won’t live our lives in fear,” I continue. “If you have torun again, we’ll figure it out. But it won’t be like last time, because the cultists don’t deserve to get any part of you, least of all your happiness.”
“You’re my happiness,” he whispers.
One side of my mouth kicks up. “You’re my happiness, too.”
A tear slips down his cheek. He groans and swipes at it. “Fuck. Why the hell did I even put on makeup today?”
