Claiming Family

by Desi Lin

  I knew about hurting hearts. “I get that.”

  No doubt our hurts were very different, but still, I found it easy to empathize as I tucked my hands into jean pockets.

  “You, too, huh?”

  I nodded.

  We stood in a not-quite-awkward, not-quite-comfortable silence, caught in some sort of mutual empathetic spell.

  “Skyler.” Breaking the spell, he thrust out a hand.

  I shook it. “Sera.”

  He jerked his head to the side of the path. “Wanna sit?”

  Part of me said no, my reluctance to connect with others still strong, but another part wanted to make a connection. I shook off my hesitation and nodded.

  We found a shaded spot to sit.

  Skyler’s bangles clinked as he rested his arms on his up drawn legs. “So, I just had a four-year relationship end. You?”

  Wow. He was quite open with a stranger. Although, what did he really tell me? Was this how these sorts of things went?

  With nothing to lose, I jumped in with both feet. “I hurt my boyfriend without meaning to.”

  I picked at my cuticles, mind reliving this afternoon’s events.

  “Whoa, you wanna talk about it?” He shoved his hair out of his face, and I noticed his dark-blue eyes were lined in purple and multi-colored crystals sparkled on his ears.

  I shook my head. “Not really.” I didn’t think I would be able to explain without going into details a human shouldn’t know, like how I controlled fire or heated my hands up. “You?”

  Skylar shook his head, pitch-black hair falling back across his face.

  Silence fell, slightly awkward though not as much as it should have been.

  Laughter broke the silence, and we watched as two young boys ran down the path. One held his hand out as though to tag the other, their appearance similar enough to be related.

  Skylar grinned as they rounded the path out of our sight. “Look like brothers.” Leaning back on his hands, Skylar turned his face toward me. “You have any siblings?”

  I couldn’t talk about my issues with Souta without revealing my abilities, but my issues with Ash were another matter. Could an outsider’s perspective help?

  Drawing my knees up, I rested my arms on them. “I actually just found out I have a half-brother.”

  “That’s— What’s that like?”

  “Weird.” Long strands of grass waved in the cool breeze, and I ran my fingers over them, letting them tickle my palm. “I’m not sure he likes me. His reaction when he found out was extreme.”

  “Shock will do that. It’s likely, once he calms down, he’ll at least be civil.”

  “My father keeps telling me something similar. It’s hard to believe, though.”

  “Chances are good your father’s right. I’m assuming the father is his as well?” At his question, I nodded, and he continued, sitting back up as he spoke. “It might not be easy but try to trust him. At least your father’s accepting you. Not everyone is so lucky.”

  His face fell at his heavy words. I didn’t know what to say or how to ask about the statement. I wasn’t sure I really should, but a desire to offer comfort raced through me, and I reached over, gently laying my fingers over the top of his for a moment.

  Skyler stared at our hands. “When I told my parents I was gay, they threw me out. I don’t have any siblings, and my boyfriend was all I had. I moved in with him.”

  My heart hurt for him, to be rejected like that. I couldn’t imagine the pain. “I’m sorry.” It seemed feeble, but it was all I could think to say.

  Skylar shrugged. “It was years ago. I have a few close friends I consider family now.” Shaking the hair out of his face, Skylar grinned wide and waved a hand through the air. The breeze picked up for a moment, blowing my neon-red strands around to whip at my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to get so serious. Tell me, ever heard of The Scribblers?”

  With the mention of my favorite indie band, our talk turned to more superficial things, and we discovered a shared love of indie music, me for playing and him for listening.

  We were discussing the lyrics of “Moonlighting” when Skylar looked up. Only then did I notice the lengthening shadows. The clicking of Skyler’s bangles drew my attention as he checked a slender watch. “I should go. I’m due to meet some friends at a bar.”

  I grinned. Who wore a watch anymore?

  Then his words registered, and my eyebrows raised. “Bar? Um… How old are you?” I cringed internally at how rude I sounded.

  Thankfully, Skyler laughed. “I get that a lot. I’m twenty-five.”

  He rose, brushed dirt off his jeans, and held a handout.

  I accepted the help up.

  As soon as I found my feet, he released me and turned to head off. “Maybe, I’ll see you around.”

  “Maybe,” I replied with a smile, feeling like I made a potential friend.

  With a wave, he walked down the path.

  I continued the opposite way down the path and tried not to let my mind settle back on my earlier questions about my power fluctuations. Answers weren’t likely to come with the same worries and fears going round-and-round in my head. The whys of those fluctuations and the answers to my fears needed information I didn’t have. I doubted I’d find the answers I needed in the online archives, though I’d check there first. Likely, I needed a trip to the Tabularium or a phone call to May.

  As for what happened with Souta? My feelings on the matter were wrapped up with my guilt. Time to stop hiding from the boys.

  When I reached the house, my hands shook at the thought of talking to Souta.

  I wanted to head up to my room, close the door, and ignore the whole thing until we both forgot what happened. Not the healthiest way to handle things. Or at least, I didn’t think so. Since I’d never been forced to deal with something like this, I wasn’t entirely sure. I did know I wanted Souta and me to be okay.

  Figuring the boys were still watching the movie, I walked inside and headed to the den, where I paused in the doorway to peek in.

  An action movie was playing on the TV. Brooks sat against one side of the couch, one leg on the floor while the other rested on the couch. His arms loosely held Souta, curled against him, face buried in Brooks’ chest, hands fisted in his red shirt. I wanted to go over there, wrap my arms around him, too, but didn’t know if I’d be welcome.

  “Get over here, beautiful.” Brooks’ voice barely reached me as his hand rubbed circles on Souta’s back.

  Was something wrong? Did I do more damage than we thought when I burned Souta? Was he mad at me? Why was he curled into Brooks like his world ended?

  I tried not to let my face show my thoughts, but I failed as Brooks said, “He’s fine. Just needing a little calming snuggle.”

  Slowly, my steps brought me across the hardwood floor within touching range, but I hesitated. “Is it my fault?”

  Of all the questions in my head, that was the most prevalent.

  “Sit.” Brooks reached around Souta and patted the couch next to him.

  My hand found my fingers and began picking at the cuticle as I sank onto the couch. I didn’t know what to say or how to make things right, and Brooks didn’t answer my question, so I could only assume Souta was upset with me.

  “I’m sorry, Souta.” My voice cracked as my eyes fixed to the floor. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to do anything. I didn’t mean to use any power at all.”

  A hand wrapped itself around mine, stilling my fidgeting. “I hate when you do that, hot stuff.”

  My gaze jerked up. Souta had uncurled.

  I took him in, but he looked okay. He looked great in fact. No red eyes or tear streaks. Chest bare, the burns covered with large gauze patches. My pulse sped up, breath catching in my throat as I took in his muscled chest.

  Forcing my gaze off his body, I turned my hand, lacing our fingers together. Relief flooded through me when he didn’t pull away.

  “I know it was an accident.” Souta slid clo
ser, the dark pools of his eyes holding me captive. “And I think I have more to apologize for than you. My jealousy got the better of me today. It’s just…” Souta blew out a breath and ran his hand through his brown-black hair. “I know Dane. He’s got a reputation. When he sets his sights on a girl, he always gets what he wants.”

  “Mr. Rhinehart isn’t known for being the most cooperative or understanding person, but if you’re asking me to, I can request a new partner.” Somehow, I didn’t think my boyfriend doesn’t like my partner would fly as a reason for needing a new one.

  “No. That will never work. Besides, I need to get over this and trust in you.” Souta untangled our hands and opened his arms.

  I only hesitated for a second before I leaned in and hugged him. From the tight squeeze he gave me, he wanted to hang on longer, so I shifted to lean against him, careful to avoid the bandaged burns.

  “I think I made a friend today.” Considering how Souta reacted to Dane, I didn’t want to hide my meeting with Skylar and upset him further.

  “On your walk?” Souta’s fingers caressed my arm, sending shivers through me, little jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

  Doing my best to hide my reaction, I nodded. “Literally ran into him, and we ended up talking a bit, mostly about trivial things.”

  “Thank you for telling me, hot stuff.” Lips pressed against my hair, and we turned our attention to the movie.

  “Valentine’s day is coming up,” Brooks said softly a short time later as his arm wrapped around both Souta and me. I struggled with why it mattered for a full minute until it hit me. For the first time ever, I was in a relationship, and Valentine’s Day was supposed to be special for couples. Well, fuck. How the heck did I handle that with three guys? What was I supposed to do?

  Souta nodded. “JJ and I were talking about that. None of us has had a chance to take you out yet. Would you be okay if we all wanted to do something with you individually, hot stuff?”

  Since I didn’t have any preconceived notions about Valentine’s Day, I nodded. “But can we not do the dates all on the same day?” I spoke as the thought occurred to me. “I’d like to be able to spend as much time as we want together.”

  Souta and Brooks agreed, and when I texted JJ, he thought it was a great idea. Feeling calmer, I settled in to finish the movie with the boys, looking forward to my dates.

  Eight

  “Where are we going?” I asked Souta, peering at him and trying to read his expression.

  Since the grin he wore was a perpetual thing, it told me nothing. His dark eyes lit with mischievousness as he pulled me into him and pressed a firm kiss against my lips.

  “No questions allowed, hot stuff.” Despite the teasing tone, there could be no mistaking the steel of his words, the command in his voice never failing to send a shot of pure desire through me.

  He grabbed my hand, tugging me along to the sleek, black sedan he preferred when he drove. I opened my mouth to repeat my question, but he kissed me again as he opened the door, tucking me into the car with a waggle of his brows.

  I couldn’t stop wondering and worrying a little about what he had in mind. We’d been curled up together, watching a movie in his room, when he’d jumped up and told me it was time for our date. In a pair of torn black jeans and black mesh shirt, my biggest concern wasn’t being dressed right since Souta wore a pair of fitted dark-wash jeans, a long-sleeved, turquoise button-down and a lightweight black jacket.

  I waited for Souta to climb into the driver’s side, but instead, he reopened the door. “Be right back. Forgot something.”

  What on earth? Maybe one of the others could shed some light on what was happening.

  Sera: Souta is taking me out and being mysterious. Someone tell me what’s going on?

  I waited anxiously for a response. Surprises weren’t something I dealt with well, but I’d never bothered to tell the guys. It never occurred to me I needed to tell them.

  JJ: I’m told you’ve been instructed to not ask questions.

  I frowned at my phone. He’d asked Souta?

  Sera: You weren’t supposed to tell!

  JJ: Behave, firefly. Souta likes his surprises, and they almost always turn out well.

  My brows rose nearly to my hairline.

  Sera: Almost?!!?

  JJ: It will be fine. Sit back and enjoy the ride. Talk to you later.

  I glanced up in time to spy Souta bounce-walk his way back to the car. A large, old fashion style, white wicker basket hung from one arm, and a black and green plaid blanket draped over his shoulder. My leather jacket dangled from the fingers of one hand. He opened the door to the back, sliding the basket, blanket, and jacket in before closing it and making his way around to the driver’s side.

  “I thought you might need the jacket since your shirt is kind of thin, even with the tank under it.” He turned the car on, and we were off without another hint to our destination.

  I picked at my cuticles, dying for answers.

  At the first stoplight, Souta leaned toward me. “Don’t think I don’t know about you asking JJ what’s going on. I might have to spank you later.”

  The husky tone of his voice caused me to shiver. The idea of being spanked caused apprehension to war with anticipation. I knew about spanking; I was a teenager with internet access after all. Though he flirted a lot, he tended toward more aggressive advances with me since our Iunctura, and I couldn’t tell how serious they were. I needed to trust that he wouldn’t push things.

  The drive was too short for my worry to fully take over and affect my mood. We pulled into a lot near a park with plenty of other cars. As I got out, I noticed it was the same park where I’d gone on my walk. We could have walked here, though it was a bit of a distance.

  Maybe Souta planned something after this?

  He grabbed the stuff from the back, then took my hand. When we hit the main entrance to the park area, my eyes widened at the number of people milling around. Overcast skies blocked any hope of the sun warming the cool air around us. I slipped my jacket on, grateful Souta thought to bring it along.

  “What’s going on?” I moved closer to Souta out of necessity as we made our way through the crowd.

  As he guided me through the throng of people scattered around the lush, green grass and around a copse of barren trees, I spied white tent tops scattered around the lake. Off to one side, a stage set with scaffolding and lights stood ready for performers.

  I froze.

  “Keep moving, hot stuff.” Souta’s voice shook with laughter. “We need to find a good spot before they start.” Stumbling forward when he pressed against my back, I caught myself and headed toward the field where others already spread out blankets or put up lawn chairs.

  My pulse sped up as I eyeballed the stage. Part of me wanted to be up there, singing my heart out, chords filling the air from my guitar, the energy from the audience feeding the atmosphere. Oh, who was I kidding? All of me wanted to be up there!

  We found a spot close enough to have a good view but far enough to save our hearing and have a space for ourselves.

  We spread out the blanket. While I worried about getting the soft, colorful piece dirty, Souta didn’t show any hesitation. He plopped the basket down, pulling four small weights out of it and using them hold the corners of the blanket down. I couldn’t help the grin that escaped me. Most people might think him flighty, but he was always prepared, always thought things through.

  Sinking down, I watched him unpack the food. As plastic container after plastic container appeared, my stomach growled. Souta looked up, catching my eye, a smile fighting to free itself. Laughter escaped, freeing my own.

  “I guess I’m kind of hungry.” I grabbed one of the containers, half expecting to have it taken away.

  “Obviously.” Souta laughed, pulling a package of hand wipes out of the basket and tossing them onto the blanket. “You’ve barely eaten today.” He met my gaze, dark eyes going serious, and laughter faded from his voice. “T
hat’s not like you.”

  I shrugged. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”

  It happened sometimes, on a rare, lazy day.

  Souta’s usual fidgeting stilled, brows drawing together.

  I leaned forward, my thumb smoothing his brow. “Honestly. I didn’t realize I hadn’t eaten. There’s nothing wrong. I promise.” I smiled, shifting to set the container I held down. “My emotions don’t affect my appetite. But I don’t always realize I haven’t eaten when it’s an easy, casual day unless my stomach screams at me.”

  I shrugged, hoping I’d conveyed it well enough for him to understand and to help his concern. It didn’t happen often.

  “As long as you’re sure.” He squeezed my hand before releasing it.

  I popped open the container next to me to find a variety of cut fruit. Snagging a cut strawberry, I savored its sweet, tart flavor. The other containers opened to reveal chicken and egg salad sandwiches, veggies with dip, and my favorite cinnamon chip cookies.

  Grinning, I grabbed a cookie and downed half of it in one bite.

  It didn’t escape my notice Souta brought only finger foods. Despite Souta’s outward nature, he possessed a practical streak he tried to keep under wraps.

  A guitar cut through the air, notes I knew by heart, could play without thinking about it. I whipped my head back to the stage, pulse speeding up as the hot-pink-haired lead belted out lyrics in her familiar, throaty voice. I wanted to squeal. Once I discovered them, The Scribblers became my favorite local indie band.

  Practically vibrating with happiness, I twisted and threw my arms around Souta, lounging on the blanket next to me. “How did you know they were playing?”

  He grinned, giving me a quick squeeze and kiss, as the wind suddenly picked up and swirled around us. He kept his arms wrapped around me. “I didn’t. I knew about this free outdoor indie fest thing, and you’ve been listening to a lot of the local indie bands, but they don’t advertise who’s playing. I took a chance.”

  Since he didn’t seem in any hurry to let me go, I settled in against him, picking at the food as I let my favorite songs wash over me.