Page 29 of Prey

I was probably just caught up in the illusion that I had found someone who was solely on my side.

I closed my eyes when I felt him sit down on the edge of the bed.

“We grew up poor,” he said.

I tried to figure out what he was talking about, and tensed when I realized he was telling me about his childhood.

I held my breath for three long seconds to keep from making any noise, and he continued.

“My dad was a fucking drunk. He was mean enough when he was sober, but once the alcohol hit, he was downright scary. He wasn’t a big man, not even close to how tall I am now, and nowhere near as big as Micah, and you’ve seen how big that fucker is.”

I smiled a little, even though nothing he said was remotely funny.

He moved his hand to my shoulder, and I jumped slightly. He didn’t do anything but hold it there, though, and after a while, I found myself able to relax back on the bed. His fingers glided over my skin lightly, and it wasn’t… unpleasant.

It was kind of soothing.

“He seemed big when I was a kid, though. Fucking huge, and probably the scariest motherfucker I had ever seen. There’s something wrong with that. You’re not supposed to see your dad as a monster.”

I didn’t say anything to that, but I was listening, and I couldn’t help but imagine the little boy Roman had been, scared out of his mind in his own home.

I was luckier than him. Far luckier.

I didn’t see my dad as a monster because he wasn’t.

Sure, he could sometimes be neglectful, mostly because of his work, but I didn’t grow up fearing his shadows.

I blinked and realized tears were building.

“Micah’s only two years older than me. He was nothing more than a child, but he took it upon himself to protect me as best as he could. For the longest time, it was just him and me against the world. I guess because of the way we grew up, he still sees me as that little boy he needs to protect.”

I laughed a little at that. It was impossible to see Roman as helpless. He wasn’t. He was strong, sure, and secure. At times, he was the only reason I felt safe.

How fucking ironic.

“Where’s your mom?”

“She died when I was ten.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” he responded, yet I could still hear the tinge of pain in his voice. I couldn’t imagine losing my parents at any age. He lost her when he was a kid.

“Do you miss her?” I asked.

He didn’t answer me right away, but when he did, a sort of gruffness took over his voice. “Every day.”

I turned around and looked at him then.

We didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he moved, and I didn’t…

I didn’t protest.

He lay down on the bed and pulled me tightly into his arms, resting my head on his chest. His fingers tangled in my long hair, and I closed my eyes, trying to pretend I was lying in Xavier’s arms and not Roman’s—

Only it was getting harder and harder to separate the two.

What would happen once I see Roman as Xavier and Xavier as Roman?

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