Page 156 of Severed Heart

“Dom ... on a date.” I shake my head at the irony. “Hell really has frozen over.”

“He loves her,” he states emphatically, forever having Dom’s back. “Ifucking love her, Tyler.She’s it for me, brother,” he admits hoarsely.

“I know.” His eyes fill with more trepidation as he resumes pacing. “But Tobias is not going to hear it, Sean. This went too far beyond any rectifiable time frame, so you need to expect the fucking worst.”

“And that would be?” Sean stops, dread evident in his posture.

“That you’re both out,” I state.

“Best case?” he asks with pleading eyes.

“Truth? A punishment fitting of the crime in addition to months or years mending the bridge back to his trust. I can’t fucking imagine what he’s feeling right now.” I grimace. “And honestly don’t want to.”

“Would you be so hard on us?” Sean prods.

“Putting myself in his shoes, if I didn’t know what it was like to be in love ... yeah, I would. But this isn’t about me. I just get to share the fucking punishment.”

“I’ll make this right with you,” he vows. “One day. I swear to you, Tyler.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. I’vegot me.But you best call Dom and know this heads-up is the last thing you’re getting from me.” I turn to stalk back toward my truck and stop to glance back at him. “And ifFrancefinds out it was me who warned you, I’llneverhave your fucking back again.”

“Understood,” he says, my implication clear, “where are you going?”

“I’ll be back when you really need me,” I say.

“That won’t be long,” he utters, devastation filling his timbre, which has me hesitating in leaving him. Because I’ve felt what he’s feeling. Not in the same way, but enough to ache for him. The crack happening in my brother’s massive heart is palpable from feet away. “Forgive me, brother,” he pleads, “I was selfish to ask this of you. I just ... wanted to be happy a little longer, you know?”

“Unfortunately, man, I really fucking do,” I admit honestly. “So count on me to be there when you really do need me, but Sean ... choose your next moves verywisely.”

“I will ... thank you, Tyler,” he relays, already lost in the panic filling him as he pulls his burner from his jeans.

* * *

Back aching, I pull up to Delphine’s and stare into the house. Anticipation brews in my veins as I continue to block out the panic I’ve been tamping down for hours, thanks to T’s discovery. Scraping some of the residue from my thumbnail, I scour Delphine’s prison, hating every fucking bit of brick and mortar that makes up her cage. My contempt for the house almost as powerful as my contempt for Alain. She had a long session with Mom today, who reported by text earlier that she was in decent spirits when she left.

In knowing that my general might be up for an escape with me—and after burning my candle at both ends since the beginning of summer—I can’t think of a better time to finally see if my efforts might pay off.

Cracking my neck, I haul myself up the steps, feeling every bit of the residual effort I made this morning as I stalk toward the door. Much to my delight, my refuge meets me at it. Hand on the knob, she sports a smile as she ushers me in, wearing a thin white robe which is covered in light blue flowers.

Her frame is slightly healthier now, and her coloring is better, too—though the chemo robs her of progress in the days following treatment. And fuck am I thankful she has so few left to go. She’s battling so much at once and taking it all on the chin for the most part. Though some of her visits with Mom set her back emotionally, it seems today’s session didn’t, as she eagerly ushers me in, beaming at me as she does.

“Soldier, I thought you wouldneverget here!” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her of the shit show about to go down, but in gauging her mood, I decide to keep the peace with a white lie. “Sorry, General. It was a busy day, which threatened to turn into a busy night.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I just ... I have a present for you,” she admonishes breathlessly, her silver eyes lit with anticipation.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask, as she nods enthusiastically and takes my hand, leading me toward the kitchen table where our latest game of Battle awaits.

“Oui!” she says, anxiously pulling me through the living room. In the short time we’ve been together, we’ve fallen easily into our old groove. We spent a night watching Star Wars when she was fatigued and managed a few games of Battle. My ask tonight might push her out of her comfort zone, so as she rattles in anticipation, I do too. It’s when I spot the flowers that I got mere days ago already wilting in a mason jar on the divider counter that I speak up.

“You need to toss those, or they’ll stink up the house.”

“I can’t bring myself to part with them yet,” she spouts.

“Why not?” I frown at the length they lasted as she, too, eyes the limp flowers.

“Because my soldier bought them for me,” she finally says. “They remind me he’s coming back the next day.” I pause my footing at her admission, and, in turn, stop her from guiding me toward the table.

“Delphine,” I say, jiggling our clasped hands. “I’m coming back every day,” I whisper as her eyes drop. “Look at me,” I order, and her eyes instantly dart to mine. “I’m coming back every day. I sleep hereevery night.”