As Blay sucked in a curse, he made sure he didn’t look in Qhuinn’s direction. But at least he knew he could rely on the guy to bow out of the—
“Absolutely. Can we wait until tomorrow night, though? Because I’d love to bring them out to your house and have a proper visit in your home.”
Excuse me, Blay thought. Are you fucking kidding me?
As he shot the male a glare, Blay’s mother filled the silence with a gasping happiness.
Twisting around on the gurney, she looked up at Qhuinn. “Truly?”
The Brother blithely ignored Blay as they all went into an exam room. “Yup. I know you’ve wanted us to come see you and I think now would be a great time.”
Unbelievable. Un-frickin’-believable.
But he had to give the guy credit for a well-played card. Lyric had wanted to fuss and bake and take pictures of the kids in her own home for quite a while, although she had certainly never said anything overt about it because she hadn’t wanted to be pushy. Her campaign had been far more subtle, nothing more than dropped hints here and there about the possibility of sleepovers, when they were much, much older, and visits during the festivals, when they were much, much older, and movie nights, when they were much, much older.
The yearning had always been in her voice, though.
As Blay’s mom reached out and squeezed Qhuinn’s forearm, Assail picked that moment to scream again—which, what do you know, was exactly what Blay was doing in his own head.
“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.”
As Dr. Manello spoke up, Blay wondered what the hell the doctor was going on about—and then remembered, oh, right, they were in an exam room. After they’d gone off the highway. In the middle of the worst early December snowstorm ever recorded.
FFS, he really just wanted to hit Qhuinn with something. A cabinet full of medical supplies, or maybe that desk over there.
“We’re going to need to get an X-ray. And then we’ll …”
As the physician started talking, Blay’s dad got all serious and focused, and Blay wanted to as well. Instead, he waited for Qhuinn to glance over.
And then he mouthed, Out in the hall. Right now.
Message delivered, Blay glanced across at his parents. “We’re just going to chat for a sec, be right back.”
He hated the way his mom looked at him approvingly, like she expected whatever was wrong to blow over in time for the family to Norman Rockwell it up at nightfall tomorrow.
That was one gift he was not going to be getting her for Christmas.
The second Qhuinn joined him out in the corridor, Blay reached across and pulled the door shut behind them. And after checking to make sure there was nobody else around, he got his lawn mower out.
“Are you fucking kidding me,” he said in a hush. “You are not coming there tomorrow night.”
Qhuinn just shrugged. “Your parents want to see—”
“Yeah, those two young you made sure I knew weren’t my kids. So no, you’re not bringing your son and daughter out to my parents’ house, just as an excuse to see me. I’m not going to let you do that.”
“Blay, you’re taking this too far—”
“Said the asshole who wanted to put a bullet in the mother of his children’s head. As she stood over their bassinets.” He threw up his hands. “Qhuinn, you can’t possibly be this critically self-involved.”
The male leaned forward on his hips. “I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry.”
“Neither do I, but apologies won’t make this better.”
There was a break of silence, and then Qhuinn eased back, a remote expression coming down over his features.
“So that’s it, then,” he said. “You’re throwing our whole relationship away over one comment.”
“It wasn’t a comment. It was a revelation.”
And one that had pretty much killed him where he stood. Hell, he’d have had a better chance of survival being the one Qhuinn had shot at.
Qhuinn crossed his arms over his chest, in a way that made his biceps get so big they strained even the loose sleeves of that white parka.
“Do you remember …” The male cleared his throat. “Do you remember back, like a million years ago, when you came over to my house after my dad—you know, after he went off on me?”
Blay looked down at the concrete floor between them. “There were a lot of nights like that. Which one?”
“Fair enough. But you were always there for me, you know. You’d sneak over, we’d hit PlayStation and chill. You were my salvation. You’re the only reason I’m alive right now. Why those kids even exist.”
Blay started to shake his head. “Don’t do this. Don’t use the past to try and make me feel guilty.”
“You always told me that my father was wrong for hating me. You said you couldn’t understand why he—”
“Look, I paid my dues with you,” Blay snapped. “Okay? I fucking paid my dues. I was your kiss-ass, your Band-Aid, your safety blanket. And you want to know why? It wasn’t because you were so special. It was because you were a slut I couldn’t have and I took your promiscuity as my not being enough—and that made me want to prove myself to you over and over again. And I’m not doing that anymore. You pushed me away for all that time, when you were fucking other people, but I’ll give you a pass on that because I didn’t have the balls to come out and tell you how I felt back then. But when you pushed me away up in that bedroom? You knew how much I love you. I’m not coming back from that—”
“What I was going to say,” Qhuinn barked, “was that you always told me you were sorry he couldn’t forgive me for something I couldn’t change—”
“That’s right—your DNA is not your fault. What the hell does that have to do with anything between us? Are you saying you’re not responsible for what comes out of your mouth?” Blay shook his head and paced around. “Or even better, that it’s not your fault you cut me out of those kids’ lives?”
“I just invited myself and those kids over to your parents’ house tomorrow night, remember. So I’m clearly not cutting you out.” Qhuinn’s chin lifted. “And my point is that I don’t get how someone who proselytized the importance of forgiveness is refusing to accept my apology.”
Without thinking about it, Blay reached into his coat and took out the pack of Dunhills. And as he lit one up, he muttered, “Yes, I’m smoking again. No, it has nothing to do with you. And when I was talking about your father, it was about eye color, for godsakes. I wasn’t asking you to step off from what you thought were your goddamn children. That was my life, Qhuinn. Those children … were my future, what was going to be left of me when I’m dead and gone. They were going to be …” As his voice cracked, he took a long drag. “They were going to carry my parents’ traditions forward. They were milestones and happiness and a wholeness that even you can’t give me. That’s nothing compared to a genetic accident that resulted in your having one blue eye and one green one.”
“Whatever, Blay,” Qhuinn said darkly as he circled his face. “This defect was my whole life, and you know it. My defect in my parents’ house was my whole fucking life. I was cut out of everything—”
“So fine, you know how I feel.”
As their stares clashed, Qhuinn shook his head. “You’re as bad as my father was, you know that? You really are.”
Blay jabbed his lit cigarette at the guy. “Fuck you. For that. Seriously.”
Qhuinn stared across the tense air for a moment. Then he said, “What’s going on here. I mean, really, do you just want to blow us up? You want to go back to Saxton or maybe fuck someone else? You want to play it like the way I used to be? Is that why you’re doing this?”
“Why I’m doing—wait, like I’m taking this stance as an exit strategy? You think maybe this is a soapbox to make an arbitrary point? You honestly believe I’m playing here?” He shook his head as disbelief made him dizzy. “And no, I don’t want to be like you. You and I aren’t the same and we never have been.”