Page 119 of Crown of Thorns
Dad shrugs, but his glare is lethal. “Some were his bodyguards, that’s for sure. I told you about the storm. Well, it’s raging, putting the Brotherhood in jeopardy. But my priority is here, with you.” His thumb swipes another tear from my cheek.
“I’m so glad you came that fast. They threw a stone through the window…it scared the hell out of me. It was your mask that was attached to it.”
“So I’ve heard. I’ll find out who’s responsible, Louis. Don’t you worry about it now.”
“Please tell me he’s safe.”
“He is,” Dad says gently, his smile softer than before. “He’s been calling non-stop.”
“I should hate him, right? For hiding things. For writing that paper to begin with, like I wouldn’t stand beside him. But I can’t. They’ve treated him like garbage his entire life. Zachary went after him the second he showed up in Paris. Had him beaten, humiliated and for what? What was the accusation, even?”
“Rape.”
“What?"
”Yeah. Noah's grandfather confronted Zachary years ago. Called him out for his actions in front of the Board. Even went as far as telling Zachary’s wife. She left him, took their son, and the boy killed himself. That’s what this was. A vendetta festering for decades, passed down like poison."
I shiver at the thought of those videos.
"Was Zachary found guilty?”
“No, my boy. They never are. It’s against the code of the Brotherhood to accuse someone inside our own legal framework.”
“Wow. That sounds fucked up.”
“It’s a privilege,” Dad says, blinking slowly, “or so I’ve always thought of it.” “Right, now what to do with the professor, Louis?”
“Noah,” I croak. “I—I…”
Dad chuckles. “There haven’t been many moments in my life when I’ve caught you at a loss for words, but Professor Montague seems to do the trick. Is that why you took the helicopter?”
“I wanted to take him on a date.”
“Why didn’t you come home for your birthday party? We were waiting. I was worried sick.”
“I was too busy convincing him to make it official. He was anxious about his career, and about how his granddad had pissed off the Brotherhood. But he doesn’t understand…he’s mine. I’ve never felt like this before.”
“Move.” Dad scoots into the bed with me, his back pressed against the headboard next to mine, blanket draped as high as possible., his back pressed against the headboard next to mine, blanket draped as high as possible.
“I love him so much, I miss him every second he’s gone. I need his scent, his warmth, the way he speaks to me, adores me. I need him with a ferocity I never thought I was capable of. And now I’m scared. My phone’s not here. Where is he? Does he still want me? Does he miss me? I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I’ve turned into this weakling. I fucking hate it.” I let out a shudder and cup my cheeks with both hands.
Dad just chuckles lowly but doesn’t reply. Instead, we sit in the darkness. We sit in silence for so long that I think he must have fallen asleep.
“You know, I met your mom in college,” he finally says. “She studied philosophy. A dreamer. The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I asked her out to dinner, the cinema, even clubbing, she refused them all. Then I invited her to a master class on French poetry, and she said yes. We sat in an old Atrium, listening to quotes on Descartes. And then I heard her laugh. Clear as glass. My heart went mad for her. I knew she’d be the one.”
He pauses. “Two years later, we were married. Four years after that…you and Arthur.”
He turns toward me. “Arthur is me in many ways. But you,mon fils, you have her fire. She once said the Brotherhood waslike a cathedral made of people, not stone. You carry that same belief, even when it hurts. You still do.”
I smile against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me. We haven’t sat like this for a long, long time. It's what the Brotherhood once stood for, before all the rot. And you don’t want to hear this, but you still are. I smile with my head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me. We probably won’t again for a long, long time. But tonight, it feels right.
“Arthur has always been the golden child,” I whine against his hair. “I was always jealous of him.”
“He only got that far because you protected him against everyone.”
“Not true.”
Dad pulls back to look at me. “Remember that time you beat up that kid from the bakery?”
