Serena’s phone buzzed at four-thirty on the dot. Sliding the pile of assignments she was grading off her lap, she stretched to reach and grab it off the coffee table. Sure enough, it was from Max’s friend’s mom, letting her know he was on his way.
She texted back a quick thank-you, then started gathering her things. As she did, she kept throwing little glances at the clock.
It made her nervous as hell to be letting Max walk home alone, but his buddy only lived a block and a half away. Ever since the afternoon of Penny’s interview and Cole’s breakdown, they’d all been trying to be a little more relaxed about letting him do some more stuff on his own. Heck, plenty of kids even younger than he was walked home from school by themselves. At his age, Serena’d done it all the time. It was just a different world now.
Besides, Max could be graduating from college and to Serena he’d still be her baby.
Before long, the place was as tidied as it was going to get. Her gaze went to the time again, and she frowned. He should be here by now. Worrying her necklace between her fingers, she went to the window and looked out, but there wasn’t any sign of him.
She was being paranoid.
Taking a deep breath, she plucked her phone from her pocket and scrolled through Facebook for a couple of minutes, but the agitation in her chest grew and grew.
Okay, seriously, where was that kid? She didn’t want to be that person, but she fired off another message to the friend’s mom, double-checking that Max had really left when she had said he did. The reply came quickly, confirming that yes, he had. Wasn’t he there yet?
Serena’s hands went numb.
Crap, don’t panic. She dialed her mom on instinct and grabbed her keys, heading out into the hall.
Her mom picked up after just one ring. “Oh, hey, sweetie—”
“So, I’m trying not to freak out, but Max was supposed to be home ten minutes ago and he’s still not here.”
“What?” She clearly had her full attention. “Have you gone out to look for him?”
“I’m going downstairs right now.” Leaving her apartment made her nervous, though. What if they crossed paths or he’d just taken the long way around? The idea of him arriving on her doorstep without anyone to let him in was almost as bad as his being out there all alone.
She quickened her pace regardless. No Max in the entryway, and she pushed through the door into the bright spring afternoon and looked both ways down the street. Nothing.
A cold little curl of anxiety opened up behind her breast. “I don’t see him,” she said. “But I don’t want to get too far away.”
Crap crap crap, she’d known he was too young to walk home alone. A block and a half might as well be a mile in this city. There were alleys and creeps and serial killers. The cold little curl became an icy pit. If something had happened to him, she was never going to forgive herself.
“Okay, stay calm,” her mom said. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
She gripped her keys and her phone both tighter. “But what if he’s not?” This was a pretty safe part of town, but terrible things could happen anywhere, and Max was smart for his age, but he was also small. “Oh God, Mom, I don’t know what to do.”
“Deep breaths. I’m leaving now.”
“Hurry.” If this was nothing, Serena was going to feel like a freaking idiot, making her mom duck out of work early, worrying her like this.
“I’ll call your sister.”
Right. Serena should have thought to do that, too. Penny’d been really conscientious ever since Serena had kind of lost it on her. Maybe a little too conscientious, honestly, like she was the one tiptoeing around, trying to be on her best behavior, but Serena didn’t have time to worry about that right now. “Okay.”
“Is there anyone else who can stay by your apartment in case he shows up?”
“I don’t know.” None of her friends lived terribly close, and her neighbors would all be at work, except—
Oh no. No.
But what other option did she have?
“I may have an idea,” she said, throat tight. “Call me as soon as you get here.”
She hung up before her mother could respond. Desperate, she took a half-dozen steps in the direction she expected Max to be coming from, but there was still no sign of him, and she didn’t want to go too far away. She retreated back to her building’s front door and let herself in with shaking hands.
It had been weeks now since she’d seen Cole. He’d made no effort to contact her—if anything, he had to be avoiding her, and it was a sick, twisting emptiness inside her that she lived with every day. He didn’t need her, didn’t want her, didn’t want to see her. It ached like nothing else in her life ever had, but she could live with it. Like her mom had reminded her: she deserved someone who would give her everything and who loved her for who she was, not just what she could do for them.
But God, it grated to have to go crawling to him now. She had asked him for one thing in the span of their relationship, and it had been help with Max, and it had ruined him. He owed her nothing. Heck, he might just laugh in her face, but this was an emergency. She’d messed up so badly here. The least she could do was put her pride aside and ask.
Twisting her keys in her hands, she climbed the stairs, past her own apartment and up and up. Standing in front of his door, the angry shame of what she was about to do stole her breath away.
“This is for Max,” she reminded herself, whispering it under her breath.
And then, with her heart in her throat, she knocked.
Therapy was awful. Cole was stomping his way around his flat, thunking things around too hard as he set about making a cup of tea to try to calm his nerves.
How many weeks had it taken Serena to pull all his secrets out of him? She’d coaxed them free with loving hands, and he’d given them to her willingly, half expecting her to abandon him at every step. Humbled and reverent every time she chose to stay.
While that bloody doctor...
He’d sat there so expectantly, judging and writing and asking these questions that twisted the very words Cole said. And so now here he was, questioning everything. Questioning himself.
Questioning his conclusion that he always had to be alone.
The whistle on the kettle blew, and he flicked it off. As the screeching died down, he braced his hands against the edge of the counter, hanging his head and clenching his eyes shut. He felt like so much wet newspaper, like someone had taken his brains out and scrambled them up and then shoved them back inside. His heart hurt.
And then the pounding came on the door.
Jerking his head up and his eyes open, he stepped back, scarcely breathing. No one ever came to him, no one knocked—no one had in years except Serena, and he’d made a bloody mess of that.
She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
The knocking sounded out again, harder this time, and he was in motion. Ignoring the peephole, he tore open the door.
And it was a punch right to the solar plexus, a blow so hard it drove the air from his lungs.
Serena. She was really here. His eyes drank in the sight of her, every atom of his body suddenly parched. It didn’t even seem possible, but she looked better than he remembered, all golden hair and soft skin, bright eyes that he could sink into and never know that he was drowning.
Her mouth was pinched.
“Serena—” he managed to choke out.
“Please.” She interrupted him, crossing her arms over her chest, her whole body closed, hugging herself as if she were cold. “I know you don’t want to see me, but there’s no one else I can ask.”
He was instantly on alert. “What happened?”
“It’s Max.”
Max. Christ. Another impact cracked his ribs.
Because he’d abandoned Serena when he’d pushed her away, but he’d abandoned Max, too, and the tyke had had enough of that in his life. It was another failing of his. Another brilliant, aching point of regret.
But this wasn’t about him. “What do you need?”
He was already reaching for his phone and his keys. He jammed them in his pockets and stepped out into the hall, tugging his door shut behind him.
It was the first time they’d stood in front of each other in weeks, no door and no pride, no obstacles between them. It felt like so much longer. And it was so fucking inappropriate, but he couldn’t stop himself from raking his gaze up and down her body all over again. If he wasn’t wrong, she was doing the same thing.
But she shook her head and slid a hand up her arm to grip at her own shoulder. “He was walking home from a friend’s house, but he never made it home.” She barely seemed to get the words out. Her face crumpled. “I knew I shouldn’t have let him go by himself, but he’s getting older, and we want him to be independent. It’s just a block and a half, all side streets, but I shouldn’t have...I...”
Instinct possessed him. His hands were on her arms, grasping her tight, and it sent a shock of electricity coursing the length of his body. Just touching her. Even while her world was falling apart. “It’s going to be all right.”
She shook her head almost violently. “What if he’s hurt or he got kidnapped or—”
“He’s fine. And we are going to find him.”
“But...” She took a hiccuping, shivering breath, but if anything it only seemed to push her closer to hysteria.
How could he possibly be expected to keep his distance? Without another moment’s hesitation, he drew her in, encircling her with his arms. For a long moment, he held her tight, trying to give her what comfort there was in him to offer. When she unwound her arms from around herself and hugged him in return, something in the jumbled mess of his mind seemed to snap back into place.
It took a herculean effort to make himself let go. Clasping her by the shoulders again, he ducked down, putting his face right in her field of view.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Just...if you can stay in my apartment while I go looking for him. In case he shows up.”
While she went looking for him? Over his dead body.
“Perfect, except you stay home and I’ll go do the looking.”
She made a sound as if to protest, and he lifted a hand, cupping the soft curve of her cheek and feeling more at home in his own damn skin than he had in so long.
“You don’t have to,” she said.
“I insist.” He stroked his thumb across her skin. “You’re going to pieces, love. Let me do this for you.”
She jerked, and it was stitches tearing, the barely sewn-up wound on his heart setting back to a sluggish bleed. “I’m fine.”
He pushed away the pain.
“We don’t have time to argue about this.” He’d stand here talking to her for days, even if it was to quibble over details. But it wouldn’t help Max. “Stay here. Call me if you hear anything. Just tell me where he’s coming from.”
She rattled off the cross streets, and he wrote them to his memory. There were a couple of different routes he could have taken, but it was still only about four square blocks to cover.
“I’ll find him,” he swore.
But her eyes were damp, her lips trembling. Surrounding her face with both hands, he leaned in, pressing a dry, firm kiss to the very center of her brow. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as he lingered there.
And then he was off.
Never had he been more grateful for the freedom to move without his crutches. He still wasn’t cleared to run, but he pushed the limits of it as he flew down the stairs and out the door. Calling Max’s name, he ate up the pavement, glancing between houses and into the windows of cars. The chances of abduction were fairly low, all told. It was more likely he was dallying in another friend’s yard or looking at dirty pictures in an alley. Buying sweets he wasn’t supposed to from the corner store.
So that was the next place he went, after he’d tried his first choice of routes. It was another block out of the way, and it would’ve been foolish of Max in the extreme, but children weren’t exactly known for their wisdom, were they? Cole poked his head inside to find it deserted. He scanned the handful of aisles all the same.
“You looking for something, mister?”
Cole nodded, speaking in distraction to the man behind the register. “Boy. Ten years old, looks younger. Blond hair, glasses. Would’ve been by himself, most likely.”
“Haven’t seen him. Had a couple other brats in here a little bit ago, though. Kids think they can distract me and get away with stealing candy, but I see everything.”
Humming some vague agreement, Cole turned back around and headed for the door, muttering his thanks as he passed the register. He made his way back to Max’s starting point and took a different side street home from there. He fingered his phone in his pocket. Serena would’ve called him if Max had shown up, but maybe she’d forgotten.
With every step closer he drew to their apartment building, the more the anxiety in him built. A fear he hadn’t known before had his blood pumping faster, his breath jagged and shallow. The low throb of his healing knee threatened to slow him down, but he kept up his pace. All hope wasn’t lost yet. There was still the alley back the other way—or maybe the library down the corner, though fuck knew what the hell he’d be doing there.
Cupping his hands in front of his face, he called again, “Max.” Then, more frantic, “Max!”
“Help!”
Cole’s blood turned to ice and fire all at once.
The word was bitten off, and he froze, listening more carefully. There were other sounds, muffled ones, mumbled words in a tone that gave the fire strength.
A wet sound and a whimper. From...
That way.
Fuck his knee and fuck everything else. It was a flat-out sprint that carried him between two buildings, down a walk and over a fence, and shit, bollocks, that hurt, but then there they were.
Max stood with his back literally up against a wall, surrounded by three older boys, each with a solid twenty pounds and the better part of a foot on him. The biggest of them had a hand pressed over Max’s mouth and another on his collar, yanking hard. Blood poured from Max’s nose, and his jacket was torn.
His glasses were broken.
And a lilting sense of vertigo took Cole over.
Because he’d been here before. Not in this place, but in this moment. He’d been that child, staring down another in a series of beatings.
He’d been a man, standing at the top of a train station platform, a boy’s green backpack in his hand, the whole world spinning out of his control, and he would have killed those men. Given the chance, he would have killed them.
He was on the boys in a second. He didn’t even hear the words hurtling out of his mouth. He shoved the closest boy aside, slapped away the hand of another, and then he had the jacket of the ringleader in his hand. He hauled him up bodily, until his feet didn’t even touch the ground. He got right in his face, shouting, spit flying.
“How dare you. You...you...” Words failed him, his throat seizing up. Cole’s hands were clenching, the entire world was red, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t.
He wasn’t that man. He wasn’t that scared, lost, beaten-down little boy.
Not anymore.
From behind him, the softest, sweetest voice rang out. “Cole?”
He didn’t even need to turn around to feel Serena’s presence wash over him. Soothing him and quieting him until he could think again.
A crimson tide still rushed through his veins, but all at once the world swept back into focus. The boy in his hands was shaking, his eyes wide, and he’d dropped his backpack on the ground when Cole had grabbed him.
His bright. Green. Backpack.
Cole’s gaze snapped to the kid’s face, and his blood flashed cold. Fuck.
This kid. This child. He was the boy who’d gotten mugged on the train all those weeks ago, the one Cole had empathized with, the one he’d run down thieves for, the one he’d nearly broken himself and ruined his life for. Standing on the platform, alone, the boy had done everything he could to make himself seem small, to seem less like prey.
And here. In this alley. He’d stood over Max as if he were the prey.
Cole’s hand released before he’d even processed it. The boy fell, barely catching himself, and the rest of his crew flinched back.
Blood rushed into Cole’s fingers, but his head still spun. This boy was him. Being taken advantage of one day and turning into a monster the next. That was what the world did to people—it was what Cole had always said whenever people asked him why he never wanted children. Why he was always so angry all the time.
But then, out of the corner of his eye, Cole spied Serena. He spied Max.
The world was cruel, and it made people hard.
But you didn’t have to let it.
Taking a step back, Cole held out his arm. Max rushed into him, his entire body trembling, and the rage inside Cole wasn’t leaving him, but it wasn’t the same as the one he’d let control him in the past. The three bullies were in various states of pissing themselves there on the asphalt of the alley.
Cole let his nostrils flare as he addressed them. “If you ever come near him again, I will find you. I’ve seen your faces. He ends up with a bruise, he gets a single bloody paper cut, and I will track you down. Do you understand?”
Three heads, mouths all agape, nodded dumbly at him.
A foreign calm stole over him, like the flow of a stream, like the soft magic of Serena’s hands. His shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to do this.”
Cole never thought he had a choice in the matter, but maybe he did. Maybe they all did.
They could choose to be better.
For a long minute, the boys stared at him in mute silence, but there was nothing more he could do for them. He flicked a hand toward the end of the alley. “What are you waiting for, then? Go.”
They scattered in a flurry, the ringleader casting Cole one last, conflicted glance before he grabbed his sack and ran. Standing strong, Cole watched them as they went. Boys as scared as he or Max had ever been. Tyrants and cowards, and they’d just needed to be stood up to.
And Max. He’d needed someone to protect him.
Finally, they disappeared around the corner, and the fight drained out of Cole all at once. He forced out a breath that was like his lungs collapsing, and his knee wobbled beneath him. With the trio out of sight, Max buried his face in Cole’s chest, wrapping his arms around his waist and letting out a sob.
Cole tugged him in close, just as tight as he could.
As he did, he twisted around. And sure enough, a half-dozen feet away stood an angel. The woman who had tamed his beast and brought him back to sanity. Back to himself. She’d shown him that he could rise above what the world had tried to make of him.
And he loved her. God, but he did.