Page 109 of Pray for Scars
She’s mine, and they can’t touch her.
No one will fucking touch her ever again.
There’s a knock on my door and I tense, picking my head up. I know who it is. I just don’t want to talk to him. Because I don’t want to leave Sid alone. She’s gotten away from me one too many times.
“What?” I call out.
The door opens and Maverick stands in the doorway, eyes going from Sid’s curled up body, her dark hair fanned across the white pillow, to me.
Vita morteque fratres.
Brothers in life and in death.
The sick irony of that.
“I need to talk to you,” he says quietly. There are circles under his eyes, and he’s had to shave a part of his eyebrow away, consequence of getting too close to the flames. I should thank him for what he did. I know, in the end, it’s for the best. If he hadn’t done it, I’d have had to keep Sid here against her will.
As it is, with what he did, maybe she’ll make it easy for me and stay. Either way, I’ll follow her.
Reluctantly, I swing my legs off the bed and hop down, padding across the dark wooden floors. I glance back at her, flip a switch to cut the lamp off, and follow Mav out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind me.
“What?”
He looks down, shifts from foot to foot. I know what he’s on about.
“We…” He sighs, runs a hand through his blonde hair, then his eyes meet mine. A shade lighter than mine. “We should talk, right?” Mav asks me softly. “We should talk about this.”
I shake my head, cross my arms. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
He frowns, eyes narrowing. “Nothing to talk about? Luce, you can’t just pretend this didn’t happen. That she isn’t—”
I sigh, shoulders caving in as I hang my head. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t remember the last time I slept. I’ve spent this entire week watching Sid in the church, keeping an eye on her. The guard that couldn’t stop treating her like shit is dead, too. So much blood spilled for her, and I’d do it over and over and over again.
But damn, I want some sleep.
Finally, I meet Mav’s gaze again, put my hand on his shoulder, squeeze him softly.
“You’ve always been my brother.” I run my tongue over my teeth, buying myself time, forcing everything back in. “You’ve always been my brother. So really, Mav, nothing has changed man. Now I’ll marry the fuck out of Sid, and we’ll berealbrothers.”
He’s quiet a moment, just staring at me. Then he nods, pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly as we stand there together, arms wrapped around each other. I’m not even sure what he’s apologizing for. I know he’ll have to work through what happened with him and Sid, but he should’ve apologized for that before he found out he boned his sister.
Because he was boningmy girl.
After a moment of silence, he pulls back, leans against the wall opposite me, folds his arms. I glance at his tattoos, all up and down his arms. I know his Unsaint’s tattoo is on his back.
I know we will never be like them.
The 6.
We’ll be better.
We’ll do things differently.
We’ll atone for our fathers’ sins.
“Brooklin,” Mav says softly. “Ria.” He picks his head up, meets my gaze. “What do I do?”
As if I know.
