Page 80 of The Vixen

Eventually, it does. I’m left with saliva dribbling from my bottom lip onto the wet grass below while Luna’s tentative handruns a stiff circle between my shoulder blades. It should feel strange, but all that registers is pity.

A minute passes while I stay hunched over the barrier, Luna’s attempt at comfort growing increasingly awkward. I’m not sure which of us it confuses more.

“What was that?” I keep my voice low. Not quite neutral.

Luna’s hand stills. She takes a strong step back

“I’m sorry,” she says, more controlled than I managed. “I know the way we honor our dead isn’t a common practice in your world. I don’t expect you to understand… I hope Aubry and Liberty are okay.”

I wipe the saliva from my chin and pluck my lip. There’s not enough toothpaste in the world to take the taste away.

“I don’t think they’re ever going to be okay.” I pivot and perch on the edge of the railing. “I think between the two of us, we’ve pretty much fucked them up for good.”

She looks away.

“But I wasn’t talking about the… I’m not asking about the meal.”

I watch for her brow to crease, but her skin stays smooth. Her lips never purse. She doesn’t even look at me.

I’d hoped I was wrong.

“Why does your father touch you like that?”

Her shoulders lift and fall. But she’s far from clueless. “Like what, Sawyer?”

Like what…

“Like he owns you.”

Still no change in her expression. Only a flutter of movement, a shiver prompting her arms to cross. “I don’t know what you mean.”

As if contagious, a breeze sweeps a deep shiver through my chest. My hands—snugly tucked inside the bugged jacket—flinch. For a second, I consider taking it off.

I don’t.

I’d regret the offer.

She wouldn’t accept it.

“Does…”

I look up at a cob web strung from the porchlight to the roof.

Do I even want to know?

“Luna… Does your father have sex with you?”

Her answer comes a beat too late.

“No.”

I frown. She doesn’t look at me to see it.

“No?” I push off the railing and hover closer. Like a statue, she doesn’t budge. “Ornot recently?”

She opens her mouth but doesn’t speak. The slender hands wrapped around her bicep contract with a squeeze.

She closes her mouth and peers at the jagged crack along a pillar.