Page 120 of Sins of the Hidden

Some questions don't deserve answers, don't warrant an explanation. I kept searching, throwing things out of drawers, items clattering to the floor as I looked for something worth taking, something that would matter.

A book full of baking recipes, pages yellowed with age but still intact. I paused, fingers hesitating over the aged book, imagining Oakley's distant eyes sparking back to life. Perfect. I dusted it off, particles dancing as I flipped through it. The handwriting was legible still, flowing script that detailed measurements and instructions. Dozens of recipes my wife might like to bake, might lose herself in.

I slipped the small booklet into my back pocket, turning toward the two men who just watched the entire time, curiosity and confusion written across their faces.

"Really? That's what you're taking?" Chet’s eyebrows raised in disbelief, blood still trailing down his face.

I walked by them, not helping as they trudged behind me back to Law's car, gravel crunching beneath our feet. I got in the passenger side while Law struggled to fold Chet's bleeding body into the back seat, each movement punctuated by curses and groans.

The rhythmic tap of my bat against the dashboard filled the silence as we drove while Law bitched at Chet about not getting blood on his seats.

"Do you have to tap that fucking bat!" Chet groaned from the backseat.

I hit the dash harder. Law's knuckles went white on the steering wheel.

"Hit it again and I swear I'll feed you that fucking bat," Law snarled, but the threat only made me tap faster. I swear I could see steam coming out of his ears, hopefully he was considering driving us off a bridge.

I narrowed my eyes. “Try.”

Chet held up the snapped cuffs like a trophy. "Do I get a sticker or something? Survived a V encounter and all I got was internal bleeding?

Law screeched to a halt at the emergency entrance, tires protesting against the asphalt. "Get out."

Chet fumbled with the door handle, blood-slicked fingers sliding uselessly against metal until it finally gave way. He half-fell onto the concrete, catching himself with one palm.

"Thanks for the concussion, by the way," he called through the open door, one eye swelling shut. "I always wanted one."

Before Law could respond, I slammed the door shut, cutting off Chet's words as we peeled away, leaving Chet swaying like a drunk beneath the hospital lights, his silhouette growing smaller in the rearview until Law turned the corner and he disappeared completely.

We arrived back at the apartment, light spilling from windows like a beacon. I got out of the passenger side, door slamming shut behind me, while Law started the car again, ready to leave. "See you?—"

I don't fucking think so.

I tore the car door open, grabbed his collar, and hauled him toward the house. "What the fuck!" He struggled against me, curses falling from his lips as I dragged him across the driveway. I opened the door, hinges protesting softly, and Oakley wassitting on the couch in a light pink sweater that made her skin glow, her favorite purple blanket covering her lap like a shield. She was watching her comfort movie, the one she put on when the world became too much. Her mouth fell open in surprise, eyes widening at the sight before her. Her mouth closed, swallowing past the lump in her throat as she took the blanket off her lap before standing.

I shoved Law forward toward her, my hand firm between his shoulder blades. He stood staring at her like a deer caught in headlights.

With a forceful shove, I sent him stumbling forward into Oakley's arms, her eyes widening and glistening as she steadied him. Time seemed to freeze as they faced each other, breath caught in their throats, silence wrapping around them while years of unspoken damage hung in the air between them like invisible debris.

Neither spoke, silence stretching until I jammed the bat into Law's back. Law hissed, shame clouding his eyes before he reached out.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, voice awkward. Oakley just nodded, unshed tears turning jade to emerald, lips wobbling as Law embraced her, arms wrapping around her. She melted instantly into his embrace, walls crumbling as a broken sound escaped her throat, shoulders shaking with silent tears that soaked into his shirt. He kissed her head, a gesture that made my grip tighten around the bat. The sound of Law murmuring to Oakley, his hands on her shoulders—it took everything not to shatter his bones for touching what was mine.

I stepped forward, shoving my way between them with a threatening grunt, body a barrier between what was mine and what wasn't.

"I can hug my daughter you prick." Law's voice rose in anger, but Oakley's touch was delicate as she touched my arm, fingertips brushing against tense muscle.

She looked at him, hope written across her features. "Y-You don't hate me?"

He shook his head, horror and regret chasing each other across his face. "God, no. I could never hate you."

He smoothed out his sleeves, fingers catching on wrinkled fabric. "I know you don’t like this. But I didn't..." She sniffed, trying to get her emotions under control, to rebuild walls that had crumbled too easily. "I didn't think you'd treat me this way."

"Fuck, I know I'm not handling things well.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Are you still happy?"

A fake smile stretched across her face, not reaching her eyes. "I am. V is…" She looked over at me, her eyes still turning dull jade, missing the spark that made them come alive. "Wonderful."

“Well, I know you’re lying. He’s not fucking great,” Law sighed with disappointment, the sound heavy in the quiet room. I didn't know if he believed her, but didn't want to fuck things up more than he already had. He looked around for something to do. "Are your windows locked?" She nodded, the movement jerky. "I'm gonna go check."

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