Page 72 of Under Water

I nod and catch his gaze and hold it for a second. He smiles, then reaches a fist out to bump Elio’s, but my son isn’t satisfied with that, because he snags Easton by the wrist and pulls him in for a hug.

“He won’t find us here, right? You two don’t know each other?”

Fuck. I hate myself for ever bringing Neal into our lives. I close my eyes for a second as Easton says, “No, kid. I only met him once, and if he did show his face, I’d rearrange it, and no one would be able to recognize him again.” When Elio laughs, he says, “I’m not joking. I’d put his eyes where his chin is and shove his nose up his⁠—”

“Easton,” I warn.

“Well. Somewhere unpleasant.”

Elio smiles at him. “I like you.”

“I’m likable,” Easton says. “So, we’re all in good company because you two are pretty fun.”

And then he leaves, closing the door behind him.

I take a single beat before I lift Elio out of his chair and set him on the bed, and he settles against the pillows. “Bathroom?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good ’til morning.”

I set up his monitor and make sure he’s in a good position so he can roll back and forth, then I strap on his BiPAP and turn on his breathing alert before stepping back.

His eyes catch mine. “Are you sure you can’t marry him?”

My heart does a little pitter-patter against my ribs. “I’m sure. I don’t think I ever want to get married again.”

Elio’s blinking begins to slow, his eyelids heavier with each one. “I like him.”

“Me too.” I push hair off his forehead, then turn out the light and stand by the door until his breathing is even. I check my phone once to make sure that it’s charged so any alert will go off, and then I close the door behind me and stare at the end of the short hallway.

Easton is waiting for me. I can’t see him, but I can sense him. I take a single moment for myself, then walk out and look down where he’s sitting with his feet up on his coffee table.

“North just dropped off Elio’s chair,” he says, pointing to the corner by the door.

I feel a punch of relief in my gut, and I walk over to make sure it’s still intact. It seems okay, so I bend down to plug in the charger, then turn back to Easton, who’s watching me with a careful expression.

He doesn’t say anything when I stand up, so I take in the room properly for the first time. His condo is very small and cozy, and very much him. It’s minimalist, but the furniture is worn, and everything looks like it’s there on purpose.

He has a couple of plants hanging in the window, and he’s got a very large tank with a betta fish that’s hovering near what looks like a very large faux leaf.

“That belonged to my brother,” he says. “I got attached, so he let me keep him.”

“The fish?”

He nods, then pats the cushion beside him. It takes me a moment to force my legs to move, but eventually, I walk over and plop down beside him. He hums quietly, then lets his cheek fall on my shoulder.

“This okay?”

“It’s okay,” I answer.

His hand creeps toward mine, and it’s too easy to let him take it, to let our palms press together and our fingers tangle. It’s the first time I’ve felt any semblance of comfort since this nightmare of an evening began.

“What did Teddy say?”

I close my eyes and let my head flop back against a cushion. “That he’s going to talk to the inspector and let them know it’s suspected arson. And who I think did it.”

“Good,” he says, his tone sharp. “Because fuck him.”

I nod. My throat feels kind of tight, and when I swallow, it’s like trying to get past a boulder trapped in my gullet. “I know I don’t have any real proof⁠—”