Page 100 of A Thousand Cuts

Fix took a deep breath and nodded, cheek brushing against Liam’s hair. “Do you… Have you ever heard of a thing called a Curse of a Thousand Curses?”

“Um, no,” Liam said.

“It’s a cursebreaker myth. It’ssupposedto be a myth. It says that if a person gets cursed a thousand times, they…”

He swallowed, unable to say the word. Liam wasn’t dying. He wasn’t.

“They what, Fix?” Liam asked, body rigid in Fix’s arms.

“They die.”

Liam’s head sprang up, eyes terrified as he met his gaze. He knew what Fix was insinuating. King woke up, startled, pushing his nose into Liam’s side and whining as if sensing Liam needed support.

“You can’t be serious,” Liam said, voice cracking. “They’re nuisance curses, everyday things. They’re not even all cast on me. I feel fine! I’m fine…”

Fix sat up and held his shaking body tighter, watching tears start to form even as Liam tried to talk his way out of it. He knew. Deep down he must have known, and it broke Fix’s heart.

“There’s only so much one person can take,” Fix said quietly. “There’s hardly any information on it, but that’s the theory…”

Liam drew in a hitched breath, a single tear skating down his flushed cheek. “So I…I’ll die?”

“No, honey.” Fix shook his head and cupped Liam’s face, making sure he was seeing every bit of conviction and determination he had in his body. “I promised I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. We’ll find whoever is doing this. I have friends at PUMA looking into it and Morgan, Ash’s boyfriend, is willing to look into your streams to weed out suspects. He has experience with stuff like that. We’ll find them.”

“I don’t…” Liam trembled, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not leaving me, Liam,” Fix said, pulling Liam flush against his chest. He stroked his heaving back, Liam’s misery wetting Fix’s shirt. He closed his eyes against his own. “I won’t let it happen. I’ll do anything for you. Everything.”

“Daddy,” Liam whimpered—a plea for solace, a plea to take it all away.

Fix could only hold him closer, hoping against hope that his presence was a comfort. “I got you,” he whispered. “Daddy’s got you.”

“I only just found you,” Liam cried. “And what about King? I can’t leave him, I can’t—”

“Shh. Breathe, Liam,” he said, even though his own chest felt tight. “You’re not leaving anyone, honey. You hear me? I’m going to fix it. Just breathe.”

“UHH, FIX?” Black suddenly shouted from downstairs. “WE MAY HAVE A PROBLEM. OR TWO. DID OUR DISHWASHER ALWAYS BAKE OUR DISHES? AND I’M PRETTY SURE OUR BLINDS DON’T OPEN AND CLOSE ON THEIR OWN?”

King barked at the intrusion and Fix turned his head toward the door as he felt his veins turn to ice.

More curses.

“They’re back, aren’t they?” Liam said. Fix looked back at him and found his eyes glassy with panic, his fingers clutching the fabric of Fix’s shirt so hard he could feel it straining. “They followed us here and cast more curses meant for me. They’re just going to keep casting them until I’m dead—”

Fix could feel Liam’s heart slamming against his ribs through his clothes. It felt like he was about to have a heart attack.

Fix gathered the blanket and pulled it over Liam’s head, muffling the world as he pulled Liam to his chest. He laid them back against the headboard and pressed their foreheads together, rocking Liam back and forth, murmuring assurances to him under his breath.

There was a banging noise from outside the door, but Fix ignored it and the deadly implications as he concentrated on what Liam needed.

Liam sobbed until there was nothing left, until he exhausted himself and went limp against Fix.

He was quiet. Eerily so.

Fix held him through it. Soothed him and calmed him as best as he could. He talked about random things. Ash’s reckless behavior, Black’s glitter, Hart’s rules. He talked to him about his boring cases and Wren’s gerbils. He told him stories of Midas walking out mid-conversation and went as far as to show him a few signs for when he met him.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, Liam settled. He listened without a word, but Fix could tell he was there with him. Hours later he ran out of things to say, voice hoarse and mind empty.

So he just held him, promising things with his hands around his waist and lips on his damp cheeks.