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Diem

(Now)

F ucking love.

How had I ended up here?

I’d never felt more unstable in my entire life, and this from a man who had suffered endless abuse growing up.

Love made a person irrational. It trumped reasonable thought. It took over logical thinking.

Love exposed a person’s underbelly and left them vulnerable and unprotected.

Under its influence, I was dangerously weak. Exposed.

Afraid constantly, and I was never afraid anymore.

A villain sought these debilities and used them to their advantage. If they couldn’t get at you directly, they went for your Achilles’ heel.

The mere thought of losing someone you loved was a pain unlike anything I’d ever felt. It hurt more than a solid punch to the temple. More than a leather belt across a bare backside as it sliced into young flesh. More than frostbite and burns from cigarettes or stove elements. It hurt more than taking a hard swing from a bike chain to the face, one forceful enough to leave you maimed for life.

Having experienced pain on more levels than most, I could say with certainty that the fear of losing someone you loved was a torture that went beyond the physical. It happened on a cellular level. It drove you to the breaking point. That fear took over your reflexes and became the essence behind your motives, often without you knowing.

Given what I understood about pain, suffering, and lack of control, one might think I would avoid falling in love. But that wasn’t possible.

Love happened without warning or permission. It snuck beneath your skin and burrowed into your heart the minute you weren’t looking. No matter how hard you steeled yourself against the world, no matter how reinforced your barriers, love found a way, and oh, the sweet devastation it left behind.

The fear.

The joy.

The triumph.

It both crippled me and sent me soaring.

A creaking door hinge sounded from behind me. Echo lifted her head as a triangle of light cut across the floor, highlighting her inquisitive gaze. With a soft huff of recognition, she lowered her head again and closed her eyes.

I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

The frail woman in the hospital bed didn’t stir. In the deepest, darkest depths of night, her face, pale and drawn, hung slack with sleep. The harsh yellow light bleeding into the room from the hallway turned her skin jaundiced, accentuated wrinkles, and amplified the shadows under her eyes.

With a muffled thunk , the door swung shut. A high moon shone in the window, providing enough illumination to cradle the woman in its beam like a lover’s touch. Was her husband out there, watching over her? Possibly. The doctors had called her recovery miraculous.

A hand landed on my shoulder. I didn’t startle or tense. The knot in my stomach loosened a fraction. A warmth filled my veins. Fucking love. Comforting one minute, an atomic destruction to my insides the next.

I grunted something resembling a greeting, never taking my eyes off the woman in the bed.

“They had Dr Pepper, so I got you that instead of a coffee.”

A sweating bottle appeared in my field of vision. Robotically, I reached for it with my casted hand, snagging it precariously between the fingers sticking out of the plaster as I murmured thanks.

I set the unopened bottle between my thighs and cracked the knuckles on my good hand. “They said maybe tomorrow.”

“Fingers crossed.”

The weight on my shoulder vanished. Long, confident fingers landed on my head, massaging my scalp and tugging at the thick mane I’d grown over the past few months. They scratched purposefully, and I closed my eyes, letting Tallus’s touch ground me.

“They didn’t want to let me in,” he said. “Told me to come back in the morning when visiting hours started at eight.”

A rumble vibrated my chest. “Idiots. It was their fucking idea.”

“I know.” The scalp massage intensified. “I sassed them.”

“Good.”

Echo rested her paw on my foot, likely sensing my rising blood pressure. I reached down and stroked between her ears.

“I told Fred to stick it where the sun don’t shine and call his boss if he had a problem,” Tallus continued. “He couldn’t be bothered arguing and let me in.”

“He’s a fucking asshole.”

“He’s not so bad.”

The hospital had bent the rules after witnessing too many ugly confrontations between my father and me. We were a fight waiting to happen, and with decades of built-up hostility between us, it would likely end in bloodshed and police calls. They didn’t want that.

With my most recent announcement, war had been declared. I didn’t give a fuck what the old man thought any longer, and Nana had given me the power to make decisions on her behalf, so he had no ground to argue.

Recognizing a need to keep us apart, the hospital devised a solution. Provided Tallus and I kept quiet, the head nurse had no problem with us visiting Nana after hours. Security, however, was not fond of letting us in and out of the building, and the main doors locked on a timer at eight. It took a song, dance, and an abundance of patience, of which I had none, to wave down a rent-a-cop and have them let us inside.

Tallus’s sassy charm went a long way.

Mine did not.

The scalp massage stopped, and Tallus moved in front of me, removing the Dr Pepper from between my thighs and depositing himself on my lap. I rested my chin on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his middle when he leaned back, careful not to jab him with the hard plaster cast.

He sighed, a sad, mournful sound that echoed in my heart. No one liked seeing an old woman in a hospital. We watched Nana sleep for several long minutes. A machine beeped down the hall, but otherwise, the floor was as quiet as a tomb.

Nana had left the ICU the previous day, her pneumonia having cleared after a week of touch and go. Everyone feared Boone was calling her home, but despite her advanced age, Nana wasn’t ready to leave. If she continued to improve, the plan was to discharge her in the morning.

“How was your day?” I asked into the stillness.

“Boring. No Kitty. After work, I swung by the office, put a second coat of paint on the walls, and answered a few emails.”

“Anything imperative?”

“Not really. Another one from Delaney. She said to expect a shipment of furniture on Thursday. I should have the painting done by then.”

“Christ. She’s overdoing it.”

“She’s grateful. Let it go.”

I grunted, uneasy with the endless gifts we’d received from a recent client. I was appreciative since she’d pulled my failing business out of the red and helped us find stability again, but I wasn’t used to someone being so… nice to me.

“Did you go home and sleep some?” I asked.

“I managed a few hours.”

Nana shuffled, made a faint noise, and opened her eyes.

I nudged Tallus off my lap and shifted to the edge of the chair, flicking on the bedside lamp and taking her hand in my uninjured one. Her thin skin hung loose over her bones, and my stomach soured, hating her fragility.

Filmy eyes blinked at the assaulting illumination as they searched my face. Ever-present confusion marred her silver brow. The pieces weren’t clicking. They rarely did anymore.

“Diem?”

My heart skipped. Lately, Nana never recognized me. I was always Boone. “Yes, Nana. It’s me. It’s Diem. How are you feeling?”

“Oh, fine. Just tired.” Squinting, her dry lips formed a moue, and she reached a shaking hand to my cheek. “Come here, darling. I can’t see you.”

I leaned in instead of offering her the silver-framed glasses on the nightstand. Cold fingers traced the prominent scar under my eye, and I waited for her to blame the war.

She tsk ed and sighed. “He didn’t deserve you. I told Boone. I said, we have to do something. But no. He said to leave it alone. Oh, Diem. My sweet boy. You’re still a handsome man.”

Her touch on my scar made me squirm. Sensing my unsteadiness, Echo nudged my leg and licked the fingers sticking out of my cast.

I scratched her ear, reassuring her I was okay, then gently removed Nana’s hand from my face, warming it in my own. “Are you cold, Nana? Do you need another blanket?”

“That would be nice. I’m chilly.”

“I’ll get a nurse,” Tallus said from the doorway.

Nana followed Tallus’s exit with her rheumy, squinty eyes. “Who’s that young man?”

“That’s Tallus. You met him yesterday, remember?”

“Tallus?” But I could tell by her expression that the memory, like so many others, had slipped into the void.

“He’s my… boyfriend. He, um… works with me, remember? We… moved in together two weeks ago. I told you about the apartment we rented.”

Nana seemed to roll that information around, but whether she remembered the conversation or not, I couldn’t tell.

“You’re an investigator like Boone was after the war.”

“Yes.” I searched Nana’s face. Her eyes, although hazy, were about as clear as I’d seen them in months. She wasn’t confused or mixing up facts. “It’s called Shadowy Solutions. We have a new office space downtown now too. A better one. We’re still renovating. Tallus is painting and decorating. I’m not good at stuff like that.”

“I remember your snake. What’s her name again?”

“Baby.”

“That’s right.” She examined my face and glanced at the white cast covering the lower half of my right arm, ending halfway down my fingers. “Oh dear. Did Leroy get at you again?”

I huffed. “Not this time, Nana. He wouldn’t dare. Had a rough job last month. Everything got a little out of hand. It was an accident. The cast comes off next week.”

She traced the tips of my exposed fingers. “You didn’t get in a fight again, did you?”

“No. I swear.”

“Tell me what happened.”

I huffed. “You don’t want to hear about my work.”

“Yes, I do. Boone used to tell me about his job. He did some sneaky stuff for the police department, and I didn’t always approve, but that was a long time ago. You can tell me about your job too. You’re a lot like your grandfather Boone.”

“I know.”

“He was in the war.”

“A long time ago.”

“Yes… A long time ago. He was a stunning man in uniform.”

“He was.”

“Go on, now. Tell Nana what happened on this job and why you have a cast.”

Maybe it was her sudden clarity, or maybe I was desperate for a distraction because of the trials of the past week. The fear of losing Nana had been frightening. She would likely forget everything the instant I finished speaking, but it didn’t matter. I loved her, and when you loved someone, you’d do anything for them.

Anything .