Page 68 of Missing Piece (Neon Scars #2)

It would have made sense for him to say ‘thanks’ and be done with the conversation, but every terrible, foul thing he’d ever done to Caleb in high school flashed through his mind, teasing his shyness, bullying him, making fun of his scar.

Shame twisted in his gut, a heavy ball of barbed wire as he began to pull his legs back through the bars of the fire escape.

I have to say it.

He handed his beer to Caleb, taking in a slow, deep breath as he mentally prepared himself to do something he’d been terrified of for years.

Caleb glanced at the offered beer. “I’m good. Ophelia made me some horrible drink that contained way more alcohol than any human should consume at once—”

“I need to apologize to you,” Adam cut in, his voice tight.

Confusion clouded Caleb’s features. “About that night at the club? It’s okay, I know things were weird—”

You could stop here. He doesn’t know. He could be a friend if you keep this to yourself.

“No,” Adam shook his head. “About the way I treated you in high school. I was angry, and hurting, and addicted to any pill I could get my hands on, and I took that out on you. That’s not an excuse, I just need you to understand where I’m coming from. And then there’s this…”

With a shaking hand, Adam pulled up his pant leg, revealing the metal joint of his new prosthetic. Caleb’s eyes widened, shock flickering across his face as he struggled to process what he was seeing.

Taking a shaky breath, Adam pressed on, desperation lacing his words, “Six years ago, I was in a terrible place. I asked my mom to pick me up. On our way home, she crashed the car into a sedan. Inside were a mother and her two sons, heading out of town.”

This is it. He’s going to hate you.

Adam’s throat tightened, a lump forming as his eyes remained fixed on Caleb, observing as the other man’s mouth opened and closed without a word.

Caleb’s fingers traced the jagged line of scar tissue running down his face. Adam turned away, the chill in the air mirroring the dread clenching his stomach.

It’s okay if he hates me. He braced for the inevitable rejection, the fury, the disgust, emotions he had rightly earned.

He had spent countless hours before the party imagining Caleb’s response, deciding that he would allow Caleb to land a few punches before he attempted to defend himself.

With that thought, he tensed, preparing for the inevitable blow.

But instead, there was a sudden warmth around him. He flinched, expecting pain, only to realize it was Caleb’s arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace. It took a moment for his brain to catch up, disbelief coursing through him.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked.

Caleb’s reply came softly, “Thank you for telling me. ”

Adam’s stomach lurched, bile rising in his throat. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. “You don’t want to punch me in the face? You totally can, I won’t hit back.”

Caleb pulled away from the hug, quickly wiping tears from his eyes. “I’ve had enough violence lately.”

Adam’s chest tightened, his breathing becoming shallow and rapid. “I don’t understand,” he choked out, “why aren’t you mad at me? You should be pissed at me. You should be trying to throw me over this balcony, man. I was a monster to you. I deserve it.”

“You were,” Caleb admitted, his voice steady. “I won’t pretend like that didn’t affect me. It did. And I probably would have unloaded on you about how all of that made me feel a few months ago, but after everything that has happened—to both of us—it seems so small, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” Adam whispered, his fingers shaking so badly he nearly dropped the cigarette as he flicked it off the fire escape.

“Besides, no offense, but I am definitely not strong enough to throw you over this ledge,” Caleb said with a wry smile as he rose to his feet. He held out his hand to help Adam to his feet.

“It’s not that simple,” Adam managed, trying to keep the tremor from his voice. “You can’t just…forgive me. That’s not how this works.”

Caleb leaned against the railing, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You know what I learned during my…” he paused, rubbing his jaw, “…my time with the hunters? Holding a grudge is exhausting and it’s just a bad way to live.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Caleb cut him off firmly. “Look, I’m not saying we’re suddenly best friends or that everything that happened doesn’t matter. But I can see you’re different now. The Adam I knew in high school wouldn’t have apologized. He wouldn’t have cared enough to try.”

Adam’s mouth felt dry, his chest tight with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t relief, not exactly. More like the hollow ache after throwing up.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Adam admitted finally, gesturing vaguely between them. “Be…normal. Whatever that means now.”

Caleb’s laugh was soft, almost self-deprecating. “Normal went out the window when we both started dating vampires. I think we’re just making it up as we go along. Now come on, it’s my boyfriend’s 201st birthday, I’ve been told I’m not allowed to hide out here. Neither are you.”

They made their way back through the French doors into Ophelia’s room, a jarring explosion of bubblegum pink and vintage decor. “So you live here, right? What the fuck is Ophelia’s deal?” Adam asked, gesturing at the surroundings, genuine bewilderment coloring his voice.

Caleb shrugged, a wry smile playing on his lips. “I kinda’ like living now, so I don’t ask questions that might get me stabbed.”

Adam let out an amused snort, shaking his head. As they opened the door to leave Ophelia’s room, Marcus and Vincent stood in the hallway, looking suspiciously casual.

Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Of course not,” Marcus replied smoothly, his face a mask of innocence.

“You totally were,” Caleb accused, his tone more amused than annoyed .

Marcus waved his hand dismissively and pulled Caleb close by the waist. “I haven’t introduced you to everyone yet, come on.” He began to usher Caleb back towards the living room, where raucous laughter and chatter could be heard.

Adam didn’t say a word, just raised an eyebrow at Vincent, waiting for an explanation.

Vincent’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “He was eavesdropping. I wasn’t.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever you say. What were you two worried about? That a cripple and a dude with frostbitten toes were going to duke it out WWE style out there?”

Vincent’s expression shifted, a flash of concern crossing his features before settling into something softer. “No. Marcus saw that Ophelia was up to something with Buttercup, and when I saw him get worried, I got worried about you. From what I hear, Marcus’s bedfellow is quite the fighter.”

Adam couldn’t tell if Vincent’s concern stemmed from genuine worry or jealousy over someone else capturing his attention.

His heart fluttered at both possibilities.

Either way, he didn’t mind. Being wanted—truly, deeply wanted—was intoxicating.

“He was just asking if we wanted to join their polycule, chill out.”

Vincent’s cool, sexy demeanor cracked as he burst into laughter, the sound rich and melodic.

“The idea of Marcus Graves being willing to share anything, let alone his precious Buttercup, is laughable.” He leaned in, kissing Adam tenderly even as his eyes flashed black.

“And I’ll rip out the heart of anyone who so much as gives you a lustful glance. ”

Adam’s pulse quickened at the possessive declaration, even as he raised a hand, palm out. “Calm your beast down, I was joking.”

Vincent’s gaze softened and his eyes returned to their usual shade. “Come on,” he said, brushing a thumb over Adam’s cheek, the touch sending sparks across his skin. “Let’s go be social before we defile another one of these beds.”

As they stepped into the room, Adam watched the vampires regard Vincent very differently from how they did Marcus.

Sometimes it was a subtle nod or a flick of the eyes, but there was something about Vincent reentering the room that demanded their acknowledgment.

It wasn’t just fear or respect—it was something deeper, something primal.

A small part of him wondered how he’d captured the attention of someone so powerful, but as he caught Vincent’s eye and saw the way he looked back at him, like he was the only person in the world worth seeing, all those other faces blurred into insignificance.

Vincent’s hand found his, their fingers interlacing in a gesture that felt both possessive and protective, grounding Adam in the moment.

They found a spot on a plush couch, sinking into the soft cushions.

The living room buzzed with activity, vampires mingling, laughing.

It should have been terrifying, being surrounded by creatures that could drain him dry in seconds.

But with Vincent’s arm around his waist, Adam felt oddly at peace.

Vincent’s thumb brushed over the back of his hand in gentle circles. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly. “I’m glad you decided to come with me.”

Adam turned to look at Vincent, taking in the sharp angles of his face softened by the dim light. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Vincent’s lips, savoring the moment.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Adam whispered against Vincent’s mouth. The words felt inadequate to express the overwhelming feeling in his chest, but they were all he had.

He leaned his head on Vincent’s shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent of him, content to watch the party unfold around them.

The weight of Vincent’s arm around him felt like an anchor, keeping him steady in a world that had never held steady before.

Adam knew this life wasn’t perfect. It never would be.

But in a room full of monsters with Vincent by his side? It didn’t need to be perfect.

He felt…whole. Like the broken pieces of his past, the scars that had shaped him, they all seemed to fit together now, creating something beautiful and unexpected. Something worth fighting for.

THE END