Page 98 of Last Man Standing

“Oh, well…” Her cheeks blaze a dark, embarrassed red. “The lighting in here isn’t great, so perhaps the shadows are playing tricks on you.”

“And humble, too.” Tired, he carefully extracts his hand from hers and lays back against the pillows, then he tips his chin toward the single visitor’s chair. “Visit with me for a while? It gets lonely in this place, especially for a man accustomed to twenty-four-hour shift rotations where smelling another man’s flatulence was as good as a day got.”

“Really, Unc?” I lead Scarlett around the bed and take the chair for myself. But then I pull her down and place her on my thigh. When she attempts to bound up again, I pin her close and force her to stay put. It’s not about overpowering or abusing, it’s about telling her it’s okay to be normal people in front of this man. “You met her twenty seconds ago and you’re already talking about farts? You’re not nearly as sexy as you think you are.”

He coughs out a surprised laugh and tilts his head to keep Scarlett in sight.

Nephew who? I ain’t shit to him anymore.

“It would be rude for me to pretend I don’t know who you are, Ms. Castro. Or who your brother is. Or,” he adds with a playful smile. “How your first evening in residence panned out. I’ve been Arabella’s head of security since long before this knucklehead was born. A pesky stint in a hospital bed won’t stop me from watching my charge.”

Scarlett fumbles blindly, searching for my hand. So I make this as easy on her as I can. I drag her back and pull her into the crook of my body. Not just sitting on me. But curling in to me.

Where she belongs.

“How are you?” Bas questions gently. “The last month of your life has been anything but peaceful, I know.”

“I’m okay.” She shrugs. “I’ve had worse months.”

“And still,” he snickers. “This month sucks, huh? It’s not the December you were hoping for.”

Her jaw trembles. “No, sir. It wasn’t. Do you, uh…” She clears her throat and peeks up at me for a moment. Then back to him. “You know about the stuff that’s happening in…” She gestures away. “You know?”

“Mm. I caught a terse, not entirely flattering version from my good friend, Arabella. Then a gentler, more detailed version from her husband. A couple of days ago, that oaf you’re clinging to gave me his version. I know it’s not polite to say,” he inches just a little closer, lowering his voice, “and I don’t make light of what you’ve been through, but I assure you, Roy Daniels’ ultimate demise was fitting, in my opinion.”

Scarlett’s cheeks drain deathly pale.

“Unc!”

“What?” He flops back again, turning his face toward the ceiling and smiling up at the crisp white panels. “It had to be said.”

“Did it?” I challenge. “Really?”

“Meh.” He peeks this way, just his eyes this time. “I would’ve done the same for you. With you. A younger version of me did, to the same types of assholes, and despite the toll such actions cost your soul, I lay here now in this godforsaken bed and search for remorse.” His lips curl higher. “Can’t find it yet. Doubt I will.”

“I wouldn’t have gone looking for him,” Scarlett whispers, her voice rough with emotion. “I would’ve left him alone for the rest of my life and ducked if I ever saw him at the store. But⁠—”

“He came to you. I know. That’s the detail that spares the price on your soul, I think. The permission you needed to take a life and not suffer for it.” He glances across again, his expression falling. “Though I’m certain you’re still suffering.”

Nodding in silence, Scarlett swipes a single treacherous tear from her cheek.

“Ladies like you,” he sighs. “You’re not supposed to dirty your soul with that kind of stuff. But amongst mortal women, within the parties of beauty and quick smiles, it’s not so difficult to find a warrior or two. We call them soldaderas. Adelitas,” he adds on a humming exhale. “To take a life is a heavy load to carry, Ms. Castro. A bravery few can bear. But that asshole came to you, and men like that, like vampires, they drain the beautiful to live. If he’d killed you that night, or if you’d run so he couldn’t find you, he would’ve needed his next supply.” He reaches across and breathes a little easier when, frantically, she rips her hand from mine and takes his. “Soldadera. You went to war and walked away victorious. For yourself. For the women who would’ve come after you. And for those who certainly came before.” He squeezes her hand and extends a finger, swiping a single tear from her cheek. “It would be my honor to meet you in Valhalla, Scarlett. Though,” he adds solemnly, his forehead marked with concentration. “I don’t expect to see you there for a very, very long time.” He brings his eyes to mine. “We’ll all meet there eventually. I’ll just get there a little earlier than the rest of you. Scope out a comfortable spot underneath the great ash tree for us to spend eternity.”

“Not too soon,” Scarlett rasps.

Surprised, Bas’ eyes jump back to hers.

“We’ll meet in Valhalla,” she nods. “And you may go when you’re ready. But I hope that’s still a good long while away.”

“Mm.” His arm grows heavy, his eyes drooping lower.

Scarlett leans forward and places his hand back on the bed beside his hip.

“Still got a bit of juice left in me yet.” His lips curl into a mischievous grin. “So you like my boy, huh? He’s looking to settle down soon.”

“Unc!” I choke out a horrified laugh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Dude! Not cool.”

“Eh.” He chuckles low on his breath. “I’m an old man, and I realized long ago that time spent being cool is time wasted being happy. Now, I’m a fierce advocate of not wasting a single second of whatever we’ve got left.” He burrows deeper into his pillow and licks his cracked lips. “You don’t have to rush off, do you? I might need a little nap soon, but I sleep better when the people I love are nearby.”