Page 160 of Hurt

Something in his heart softened, and against all odds, Kurt felt a sense of contentment settle over him.

Ezra began yelling again. The last words of a man too stupid to know he was already dead. Seeing him like this, Kurt wondered how he could ever be afraid of someone like that. How much time had he wasted letting him dictate the things he did?

The things this man did destroyed Kurt. His violence silenced the music in his heart and replaced it with fear. He took away his desire to live, but the cruelest thing he had ever done was take away his time.

Time with his brother. Time watching his nephew grow into a man his sister would be proud of. Time that Kurt could have used to find Grant and love him properly—not with the shattered pieces of his soul but with his whole being.

For the longest time he thought he was cursed.Born under a bad sign with tragedy in my blood, is what he had told Grant. It wasn’t true. He was loved.

Willow had stubbornly stayed by his side even as he pushed her away. Even when he was unlovable and a ghost of his former self, Willow was there. Always waiting. Always there to catch him.

And even after everything he did to Noah, the kid still looked at him the way he did when he was eight years old, and he thought his uncle with the guitar and purple hair was the coolest person in the world. He never let Kurt ruin that for him.

They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Kurt thought that was the cruelest thing imaginable. Why would he want to see all his mistakes played out when he didn’t have time to fix them?

Ezra’s chest was heaving with the force of his shouting. Grant wasn’t listening. His calculating mind was searching for a way to fix this. To make everything right.

He was still trying to fulfill the promise he made to Kurt.

There were a million things he wanted to say to Grant. To tell him that he made him feel safe again after so many years of being shrouded in fear. That his endless patience was the one thing Kurt needed while simultaneously being the most annoying thing he had ever encountered. That his cooking wasn’t really all that bad.

Grant reached past all the broken and jagged edges of Kurt and found the one small part he had protected. The part of him that he didn’t think would ever see the light of day again. Grant had ignored his flaws, ignored his insults, and took hold of that golden part of him. He held it close and protected it from Kurt’s attempts to destroy it. He tended to it and helped it grow into something strong enough to live.

Grant had given Kurt so much more than he realized.

Call me Wanyin. Just one more time,he silently pleaded. Just once would be enough.

Ezra’s grip on the detonator was loosening. His arm was swinging wildly as he pontificated, relaxing his hold on Kurt. He could run. Jump down and into Grant’s arms and finally be home. He could live.

For him to live, he would have to sacrifice everyone he loved.

He never believed he would get a happy ending, but he was wrong. Because Grant came for him. He came for him and that was enough.

His last breath was going to be a sigh of relief rather than a choked back sob of pain.

Grant sensed the change in Ezra. He knew the man was unhinged as his words grew stuttered and aphasic. His fists tightened and he made to move forward.

Kurt caught his eye. He shook his head and stopped him.

Grant’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. Kurt’s heart ached with how lovely he was.

Kurt and Grant were slow dancing in a burning room to music that had long since faded. Their time was up.

“I would have played for you.”

Grant’s eyes widened and he began shaking his head. “Wanyin…” he breathed.

Kurt smiled.

With his bad hand, he twisted in Ezra’s grip and grabbed the detonator. The struggle sent them both toppling over the balcony.

29

I HOPE I NEVER LOSE THE BRUISES THAT YOU LEFT BEHIND

The dining room of Agostis was nearly empty at 11:00 AM on a Tuesday. Decorated in a mix of old and new world style, it gave Elijah the impression that the designer for Versailles went head-to-head with someone who liked a modern minimalist chic look. It’s competing themes probably worked for someone with a more advanced artistic pallet, but to Elijah it just looked like they couldn’t make up their minds.

Grand chandeliers hung above slick stark white marble floors. Mirrored finishes flashed their reflections as they sat at one of the sumptuously set tables. A white tablecloth was pressed and starched. The tableware was high quality—the same color scheme as the rest of the room, there was just entirely too much of it. No one needed that many glasses or forks.