“There’s only one way in, besides the fire escape. Come on.” Cain’s feet crunched across the leaf-strewn gravel and typed in the code on the keypad next to the garage while Damon grabbed their bags from the trunk.
“Let me guess,” Damon said, coming up behind him and nodding at the keypad as they watched the door slide up. “The date of the next presidential election? The date he became a vampire?”
Cain blinked. “What? No. Uh… This oneisbirthdays actually. Mine, then Cady’s.” A vise squeezed around this heart.
Damon grabbed his hand. “Cain,” he began. “I heard your conversation in the car. Are you—?”
But Cain shook his head. “I’mfine,” he said, trying to convince himself as much as Damon. “It’s like you said before. He’s not all one thing or another. He loves me in his own way. But he’s not a good dad, and he’s not a good person.”
Damon said nothing, but he didn’t let go of Cain’s hand, even as they made their way through the garage, past an old blue pickup truck and a low-slung black convertible parked there, and up the carpeted stairway to the main floor.
The air inside was still and chilly, but unlike the stale, cold feeling of the Nashville house, here the stillness was expectant - a weird buzzing in his brain that told him they were in the right place and they’d find what they were looking for, in one way or another.
Cain grabbed the grocery bags and moved into the kitchen, tossing food haphazardly into the nearly-empty fridge, but Damon had stopped by the stairs for a moment.
“Wow,” he finally said, dropping the suitcases and moving into the open living area.
Cain tried to see the place through Damon’s eyes. Gleaming cherry floors covered the entire expanse, from the kitchen and bathroom that faced the driveway, all the way through the living and dining area to the giant sliding glass doors that led to the deck. Beyond the doors, a leaf-strewn steel-and-glass balcony held an enormous built-in grill, along with several chairs and tables.
“Yeah, I guess it’s pretty wow,” Cain agreed quietly. Damon paused at the doors and cocked his head, a silent question, and Cain came forward to slide the doors open. “We can sit out here later, if you want. After we, you know, search the house.”
Damon wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him out onto the deck. “Maybe the searching can wait a minute.”
“No. No, we should get started before—”
“Cain. It can wait.”
Cain took a deep breath of the crisp air. He let Damon tow him over to a dark wicker love seat strewn with comfortable cushions, where he pulled him down, and wrapped him tightly in an embrace that already felt comfortable and expected.
“Talk,” Damon said softly.
“About what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The Patriots’ playoff chances? What you want Santa to bring you for Christmas? What the hell possessed you to buy me a hat that saysBig Daddy?”
Cain snickered. “I already told you. It was too perfect, after I’d already given you that nickname.”
“Uh huh. Or maybe,” he suggested gently. “You could tell me about your phone calls this afternoon. I overheard some parts.”
With a sigh, Cain nodded. He’d already known that Damon had heard almost everything. “You really think Bas and Drew will be able to keep Jesse safe? Make sure he keeps his job and nobody talks about his past?”
“Drew already told you he was going to take care of everything, and Jesse never has to know you were ever involved.” He paused, hesitated. “Unless you want him to know.”
Cain shook his head. Memories of Jesse were some of the fondest, happiest ones he had. He’d hung onto those memories, hung on toJesse, for that reason. But now, everything with Damon was so brightly colored, so muchmorethan anything he’d ever experienced, that he saw just how pale and washed out those memories of Jesse really were.
“I can’t think of a single reason I’d want him to know,” Cain said firmly.
Damon nodded, like this was no big deal, but Cain could feel the muscles of his arms relaxing where they wrapped around Cain’s shoulder.
“And we didn’t ask Drew this, but I’m pretty sure they’ll make sure you’re taken care of too, Cain. If you don’t want to live with your parents anymore, you have places to go. Remember? Friends. Whether you want to testify against your dad or not.”
Cain didn’t reply, just sank more deeply into Damon’s side, grateful for Damon’s words and the calm acceptance in them. Cain didn’t want to think about what they would find when they searched, what the proof to convict his father would look like. But more than that, he didn’t want to think about what would happen if they found nothing at all.
All along, Cain had been determined not to come forward about his father in order to protect Jesse. Now that Jesse was safe, he had to confront the fact that he really didn’twantto come forward. He should and hewould.But he hated that circumstances had decreed he’d be the one to bring the gavel down on his own father.
Love you. Feel better.
Cain was weak. As always.
