Page 145 of A Soul to Steal

Gideon looked back from where they’d just come from to find Aleron had returned to the same roof. Gideon waved at him, hoping to quell his anxiety while being riddled with it himself.

Then, like a thief stalking low, Gideon crouched his way to the house to get a closer look. He went down the side between the two buildings where there was a window. The window wasn’t entirely pointless even though it faced a wall, since it allowed fresh air to drift inside on hot summer days.

When he heard deep voices, he clutched the windowsill, but couldn’t bring himself to look inside just yet. Even though the air was cold and fresh, it felt like he was choking on gravel as it rattled in his lungs. He felt strangled, like he had rope braided around his throat.

For a little while, he just listened and tried to make out the voices.

“...She’s not doing well in class,” an unfamiliar, high-pitched yet masculine voice stated. “I’ve spoken with her teacher, and she said that Cassidy doesn’t pay attention like the other students.”

“She’s only six, Nolan,” a gruff, older voice grated out. Gideon covered his mouth, disbelieving how much it had aged in the years he’d been gone. It’d even deepened. “What do they expect from a child? All she does is learn her ABCs and colour in.”

“There’s more to kindergarten than that, Beau,”Nolanresponded. “I think she’s really struggling to be away from us. I think she’s worried that we’re going to leave her there and not come back one day.”

Beau gave an irritated but loud grumble, and Gideon braved peeking through the window just in time to watch him put his forehead in his palm.

He looked the same, and yet... so different.

Beau still had his muscular yet heavy-set build, his gut a little rounder than he remembered. By the creases on his forehead and corners of his eyes, Beau looked much older than the twenty-nine Gideon remembered him being. A beard, which had once barely been an inch from his face, now hung down to his sternum. An unruly mane, still as long as ever, had fully receded like he’d thought it would. White and grey had begun to pepper his black hair and beard.

Gideon still thought Beau looked handsome, even if it wasn’t the face he’d known.

Then, with a gawking stare, he took in Nolan. He was thin, tall, and lacked facial hair. His eyes were brown, but they were warm and kind as he looked over at Beau, despite being exasperated with the older man.

Even Gideon could see Nolan was pretty, despite being a little sour towards him.

“You know I’m not the best at talking with her. She likes you more,” Beau admitted. “But I’ll walk her to school in the morning and reassure her.”

Nolan’s features softened, obviously appeased, and he smiled. “Thank y–”

A scream cut them off, and they both looked towards the ceiling where the second level was. Seconds later, a small girl with blonde hair came bolting down the stairs with wet eyes.

“Daaaddddyyy!” she cried, running straight to Nolan’s legs, just as a second cry sounded from up the stairs. It grew louder by the second. “G-Gideon p-pulled my hair again.”

“He’s only three, sweetheart.” Nolan sighed, before carting her towards the second level. “Come on, let’s go check on him and see if he will apologise.” Beau went to rise and follow, but Nolan gestured with his hand out. “It’s okay, I’ll handle this. Could you take the water from the stove and put it in the bath for them?”

Beau did as he was told, walking over to the small kitchen. He grabbed a large steaming pot by the handles on each side of it and lifted it as though it weighed nothing. He held it out from himself as he carted it through the dining area before turning left to head up the stairs himself.

A fire continued to burn from within the stove hearth, crackling with life in the silence that came from their absence.

Gideon, frozen where he knelt, let everything sink in.

Beau had found someone else. He wasn’t alone, and they had a family. A daughter named Cassidy, and a son they’d named after...him. They’d adopted two kids, just like he’d always wanted, or perhaps Nolan had his own children before meeting Beau.

Regardless, this was proof that his old life was gone.

It stung. His eyes watered and Gideon struggled to hold back the tears, but this was what he’d wanted to see. Beau lookedhappy, even if his permanently grumpy face didn’t come across that way. Their house was warm, full of love, affection, and support.

It was everything he’d wanted, and now couldn’t have.

I’m just glad he’s okay.He’d needed to know that. Needed to see that the man hadn’t turned to an existence that never looked beyond the bottom of a bottle. He’d needed to see that Beau had moved on, and that Gideon’s death hadn’t irrevocably ruined his chance for a good life.

The guilt of those fears had beeneatingat him constantly. The gnaw of them finally eased, leaving only relief in the release of their fangs.

Just as he was about to back away, a brown weathered case caught his eye. The long neck of it poked out from under the stairs, dangerously close to being in the way of an unsuspecting foot.

No way. Is that my...?

In a split-second decision, Gideon reached higher and placed the pads of his fingers against the cold glass of the window, intending to lift it. He knew the lock was busted, unless Beau had finally fixed it, even though he’d nagged him repeatedly about it.

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