Page 127 of Too Far

His gaze drifts to Kendrick, and unspoken words pass between them. K shakes his head once, and Decker turns back to his food.

The interaction is another reminder of how close they are, how long they’ve known each other, how awful the current state of things between them is.

Decker shoves another forkful into his mouth, chews, swallows, and clears his throat.

“It’s nice now, but the woods are especially beautiful in winter. You can come back here then if you want.”

He’s reaching.

“You could all come for the holidays.”

He’s trying too hard.

“I mean, just you. I wouldn’t have to be here. I just mean, if it would make you happy…” He trails off, ducking his head and focusing on his plate.

It’s all too much. And yet not nearly enough.

Awkward silence lingers, so I take the reins this time to fill in the void.

“I haven’t celebrated Christmas in years.” The confession is directed to no one in particular. I keep my focus trained on my hands and pick at the corner of my thumbnail.

Kylian’s responding growl has me shooting up straight and watching him.

I offered that up without thinking, and the blue flames burning in his eyes make it clear that was the wrong line of discussion for this already too-tense scene.

Decker just stares at me, unblinking.

I don’t have the courage to look at K.

Locke reaches out, offering a hand that I gladly accept. After I interlock our fingers, I sneak a glance at him and offer a soft smile.

He gets it. Christmas is just another day for kids who are living in survival mode. It’s also a very long day. When school’s been out for a week, and they don’t know when their next meal is coming, it can be brutal.

“We’ll make this year extra special,” he promises, giving my hand a squeeze.

The promise lingers, heavy and tense.

After several seconds where the only sounds are our breathing and the scrape of Decker’s fork against his plate, the table quakes.

“This can’t stand.” Kendrick scans the room, his face set in a glower, his fist pressing into the tabletop.

“K,” I warn. “Let it be. We’re still on a time-out.” As painful as this is, it’s almost over. Decker’s almost done eating. He’ll most likely excuse himself, and head to bed.

Then tomorrow.

Tomorrow…

My heart cracks and my eyes well with traitorous tears just thinking about tomorrow.

I slump back against my seat when realization hits. All we have left is the rest of this meal. The forced civility and tolerance around the table are only promised for a few more minutes.

Ignoring me, Kendrick clears his throat and lifts his chin. “This can’t stand,” he repeats. “This is bullshit, and you all know it. He’s just too stubborn to make the next move.” He points an accusatory finger at Decker.

I let out a sigh, willing my emotions to stay in check. They threaten to escape anyhow. The longer this goes on, the harder it is to hold back the tears. I don’t want them to fight.

Not now. Not over this. Not when we only have a short amount of time left.

“I’m calling you out, Cap.”