Page 16 of Gates of Tartarus

“But it hasn’t gone well in the past, right?”

“Right,” I concede quietly, realization slowly dawning, pushing through the happiness that had numbed me to my reality. “I’d have to shield around you all the time. I wouldn’t be able to relax at all. I’d pull in your emotions without thinking; I’d push out mine. If we fought…”

He rumbles in protest, and I smile sadly at him, a canyon of misery opening in my chest. “We’d fight at some point, Lach.Everyonefights at some point. And I’d be wrapped up too tight keeping my walls up, or I’d let them all collapse. I don’t know. I’m… I’m scared, Lachy. Everyone… Everyone who has ever been important to me in my life has lied or left. I don’t know that I have the structure in me to believe in someone enough to… I don’t know.”

He pulls my head into his shoulder, rubbing my back with his warm, massive hands, and we’re both quiet, the distant sound of water lapping on the shore and the early morning birds pushing back the silence. My heart is racing in my chest, panic fluttering like a thousand wings. I want Lachy. Iwanthim. But I’m scared, and the fear tastes like blood in my mouth, an iron tang mixing with the curl of desolate disappointment Lachy is trying vainly to hide. I know he’s not upset with me, but itfeelslike he is, and it’s making me nauseous, which convinces me that I’m right. That I can’t do this. That this won’t work.

“I don’t know how to let you have all the pieces. And you’re so,soimportant to me, Lachlainn. Iwantyou to be happy. I’d give up everything to have you be happy. I just don’t know ifIcan make you happy. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get to the point where I can give you what you deserve.” He sighs and stays quiet, so I keep talking, stumbling along, “Iwantto, Lach. I really want to be that person. I just... it’s so much work to keep myself balanced… I don’t know how I’d keepusbalanced.” Unintentionally, my voice begins to waver, and I blink furiously against the pain across the bridge of my nose.

“Why does this feel like you’re trying to say good-bye?” he asks, voice deep, resonating through my body.

I shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. It’s not how… I didn’t… I was so happy seconds ago.”

Pulling back, he meets my eyes, decision carved heavy into his face, like stone. “Kailani,” he says firmly. “Do you not understand yet that it willneverbe good-bye between the two of us unless you want it? Do you think that just because you need time to figure things out that I’m just going to disappear?”

I gulp back tears, feeling tremendously vulnerable and exposed. “I don’t know,” I mumble. “It’s just how things go?”

Nodding to himself, he reaches his hands out and places them gently on my shoulders, making me face him. “It’s maybe how thingswent, Suge. It’s how thingswent. It’s not how they’re going to go from now on.” His disappointment has changed into something different, something I don’t recognize in this moment, something sure and solid.

“What,” I say, sarcastic and sad all at once. “You’re just going to… I don’t know... wait around until I get my head on straight? Until I can figure out a way not to be a ball of emotions,allthe fucking time? Who knows how long that will take? Been 28 years, and it hasn’t happened yet.” Bitterness laces my tone, and I force it out, brusqueness replacing it. “I’m never going to be normal. This shit isn’t going to go away. It’s a struggle just to get through the days sometimes. You don’t want that.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I want,” he says firmly. “That’s not yours to decide. And you’ve been fighting, and struggling, trying desperately not to drown, byyourself, for years and years, Kailani. You’ve only been given breathing room to figure out how tolivefor the last three or four years. You don’tknowwho or what you’ll be. You haven’t been given any time to figure that out.”

I stare at him, not knowing where to go at this point, and he stares back, eyes like sparks of flame off flint, glittering in the morning light.

“I. Am. Not. Leaving. And if you need time for me to prove that to you, then you need time. And if you need space for you to figure out how this is going to work, then you need space. But I’m yours, Kai. Your friend, your home, whatever you need. And when you realize that, not here…” he taps my head, “but here,” he taps my heart, “I’ll be waiting.”

“I maybe have feelings for Hideo too,” I blurt out, face burning red, and Lachy unexpectedly roars with laughter.

“Oh Suge!” he says helplessly, laughter rolling through him like thunder through mountains. “Oh my God. If you could see your face.” He makes a valiant effort to control himself, loud bass quieting to tiger chuff, and he grabs me, pulling me in to kiss me on my cheek. “You keep trying to burn all the bridges you want, Suge. I’m a carpenter by trade. I’ll just build new ones.”

I frown. “I’m serious, Lachy.”

He grins at me. “Oh, I know, Suge, I know. But are you thinking of him now, here?” He waves his hands around, motioning towards the deck and the woods and the Sound.

“No,” I say slowly. “No. When I get on the ferry, all I think about is you.” I flush and stumble to correct my words. “Like, home and Gemma and the cabin and our life here.”

He stands up and stretches like a bear, still grinning. “Then this is ours. This space is for us to be us. And the rest of the world can figure itself out.”

“But Lach, I don’t... where are we?” I push out the words, both dreading and anticipating the answer.

“Well, I’m where I’ll always be, Kai. Standing, ready to open the door to welcome you home. And you’re out walking in the woods, taking some time to think and reflect, and when you’re ready, you just come knock and I’ll be waiting.”

I open my mouth to say something, anything, and he shakes his head. “You need some proof, Kailani,” he says seriously. “You need to know that, when the world is burning, I won’t abandon you to the fire. So let me prove it to you. Okay? And that’s us. Any other paths you need to explore in the meantime, you go ahead. You don’t feel guilty, or beholden, or like you’re doing something wrong. Whatever you have across the Sound is out there. And then you let it drift away when you come back across the water to me.”

He looks critically at my coffee. “This has gotten cold. I’ll go make you a new one.” Turning away, he walks inside, calling over his shoulder as he goes, “I’m going to prove to you that you’re enough, Suge. Exactly as you are,” and leaves me in the silence of the morning, caught in the strange space between tears and a smile.

If You Think I’m Sexy

Saturday, 3 November – Maela

The guys spend most of the next day moving the rest of Jorge’s and Kavi’s things from their old flats. I offer to help but am left at home with strict instructions tostay putand rest. I don’t really mind: my bruises have gone an interesting shade of blue-green, and a day spent reading and exploring the house sounds good to me. The place is completely insane. The salon is decked out in Georgian green with gold leaf and cream accents and has a marble fireplace, another chandelier, and parquet flooring. Out on the neighboring terrace, planters lined with boxwood and lavender fill the air with a spicy fragrance when I brush them, even this late in the year. I nobly refrain from peeking into the guys’ rooms – Jorge and Kavi have taken the bedrooms on the floor above me – but I do pop up to the roof terrace.

As I look out across the rooftops of London and down to the terrace below, I let out a deep sigh and take a moment to be still. So much has happened that I still can’t quite believe it. A year ago, I’d sworn off men – OK, temporarily, but it’d turned into an unexpectedly prolonged drought – and now I was luxuriating in a feast of maleness. Emlyn, Jorge, Kavi, and, I think grudgingly, Seef. And all I had to do was volunteer for a clinical trial and develop a preternatural ability. Simple. I’m not sure how this whole house-sharing thing is going to work, to be honest. Every time I see one of them, I go into heat and start slavering. But maybe, now that we’re living together, Jorge will see that I’m not as vulnerable as he thought I was (well, I might be, but that’s not the point) and we can take up where we left off with that aborted kiss. Come to think of it, whatwasthat with the chocolates on Sunday? Was I imagining it, or were Kavi and Jorge flirting with me? And, would they, maybe, be cool with double-dating, if that’s the right word? And then there’s Emlyn and… something, between us. The only thing I know for sure is that Seef, undeniably hot though he is, is abalsak.

Seef’s behavior sticks in my mind the whole day. I mean, really, what the flyingfeckis his problem? He was a complete arse from the moment he laid eyes on me. And what was with the whole “dance, monkey, dance” attitude? Maybe he thinks I’m a fraud? It whines and whirrs in the back of my mind all day, a mosquito hovering just within earshot; and I’m still brooding on the problem when the guys come back that evening. Unfortunately, I’ve decided to treat it with a large glass or two of medicinal wine – possibly three, but don’t hold me to it – while doing dinner prep, on an empty stomach, of course; and by the time everyone files into the kitchen, I’m a wee bit tipsy. I’m also still wearing the clothes I threw on for a spontaneous yoga session earlier.

“Hey guys! How’d everything go? Good day? Great! Thought I’d take care of dinner since you’ve been working so hard. It’ll be ready in half… an… hour, so why don’t you grab yourselves a drink and relax in the conserv–a–tory? What, what!” I sense rather than see the quizzical looks that pass between them. Then Rod Stewart comes on the radio, and I react like a dog that’s just seen a squirrel.

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