Darius was fifteen now and he was catching up to me in height. His baby features were gone. His hair was longer—to his chin—and face narrower, the Randall features cutting in. He looked more like Aleksander than before. I focused on his eyes. Even though they were the same color green as Aleksander’s, Darius’s spirit shone through them like Mama’s.
“He can be trusted,” he added. “Shane too.”
“I trust no one,” I said.
“Fair. Here. You look spent, Silas. I’ll take him. Get some sleep. Then we should get the fuck out of here.”
Darius attempted to lift Oliver from me. Oliver screamed. “Noooo! No. Baba. Aglet. Aglet.”
He let go. Oliver cried into my shoulder. “What’s he saying?”
“Eaglet. That’s what I call him.”
“Okay, it’s fucking adorable he knows that. Gosh, he’s really attached to you. Looks like he’s not going to escape the Randall curse after all.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m not an expert on babies or anything—I’mneverfucking having kids—but they aren’t supposed to cling to their parents in terror every moment of the day. Dad got to him. Anyone can see.”
Not anyone. Just us and I’d already noticed, but I hoped I was wrong. If Darius saw it too …
“He’s young. We’ll fix it.”
He huffed, nodding. “We’ll do our best.”
“What do we do Darius?” I was too exhausted to come up with a plan. My head was spinning.
“First, we’ve got to pull ourselves to-fucking-gether. Else Dad will win and I’m not letting him win. Next, cash only for now. We’ll head north then circle back around to The Home and get the money. Seriously consider bringing Simon and Shane—they can help us.”
I couldn’t say yes to the others yet. It was even weird being around Darius. “I’ll think about it.”
“Will he sleep if you lay down with him? I’ll keep watch. You look like shit, Silas.”
I nodded, kissing Oliver’s sweet-smelling head. “We’ll try. C’mon, Eaglet. Should we sleep?”
“Sleep with you, Baba?”
“Yes. With me. Also, Brix. Where did we put Brixy?”
Darius grabbed him from the bag, laughing. “Mama’s squirrel cartoon,” he said. “Good choice.”
Oliver held Brix. I held Oliver. Darius kept watch while we slept.
ChapterThirty-Six
Silas ~ June 1988
Having headed north on the highway all day, I’d grown too weary to be able to drive safely. I pulled into yet another motel, knowing Oliver was spent too. It’d been two weeks since I rescued Darius from the The Home, though I already knew I hadn’t rescued Darius, he was in the process of rescuing me. He’d grown ragged.
“I should have left you there—you were happy. Look what I’ve done to you in two weeks.”
He turned a true Randall death glare on me, shaking. “Don’t you ever fucking say that again, Silas. Never. I’ve told you before, I want to be with you two. Nothing is more important than that—not my safety, my sanity, or my well-being. It’s my life and my choice.”
I didn’t agree with most of that except for it being his choice.
“Silas, take it back and promise me right the fuck now.” His eyes were filled with the kind of fear that holds a person hostage.
“I’ll never abandon you, Darius. Not even ‘for your own good’. I know that would only be my idea of your own good and not yours.”
