“Yes, you did.” Maris smiled as he saw that day so clearly in his mind. He’d been pinned to the school wall by a bully who’d been pounding on him. Out of nowhere, this tiny little red-haired boy had come charging in like a hurricane. Barely five years old, Darling had been short for his age. But what he lacked in height, he made up for in ferocity.
In no time at all, he’d beat the bully back and had him on the ground, crying for his mother. After making him swear he’d never even look at Maris again, Darling had stood up and come over to him. Forever proud and fierce, Darling had wiped the blood from his lips, then offered Maris his other hand. “Hi, I’m Darling Cruel. We should be friends.”
Maris had fallen in love instantly.
And he’d been in love with Darling every day since.
“You have always been my champion,” Maris whispered to him.
Darling closed his eyes as he clenched his fist in Maris’s hair. “Why couldn’t they have killed me, Mari? My mother’s right. I have no reason to be here. I shouldn’t be alive. The empire would be better off with Drake as governor and not a freak like me.”
“Don’t you dare talk like that!” Maris didn’t want to think about a life without Darling in it. He couldn’t face the pain of even the thought, never mind the reality. Not knowing where Darling was had been the worst time of his life.
He didn’t care what condition Darling was in. He just needed him to be here.
“It’s true and you know it,” Darling said, his speech slurred as his hand fell away from Maris’s hair. “I’m sick of hurting all the time, Mari. I just want the pain to stop. But it doesn’t. It only worsens. I can’t even dull it anymore.” His words were really slurred now. “I just want…”
Maris tightened his arms around Darling as he finally passed out. “My poor baby.” But at least Darling would have a few hours of rest now.
Maybe by tomorrow he’d feel a little better. Not likely, but he could hope.
Swinging Darling up in his arms, Maris carried him upstairs, to the governor’s bedroom.
He lay Darling down on the large bed and removed his boots, hood, and gloves. His heart broke as he saw the damage they’d wrought on Darling’s face, hands, and feet.
It was so wrong. Damn them for their cruelty.
Darling had been so beautiful in his youth. So flawlessly handsome. But first his own brother had given him the vertical scar on the left side of his face, and now this…
Bastards.
Maris started to remove the explosives that were woven around Darling’s tunic, then caught himself. Knowing Darling, they were trip wired. It was extreme, but he understood that insanity, too. Every Cruel governor for the last three thousand years had been assassinated.
All of them.
It was one of the reasons why Darling had been so fascinated by electronics and explosives as a kid. As far back as Maris could remember, Darling had been obsessed with protecting himself from would-be assassins.
Ironically, it had been an assassin who finally quelled Darling’s fear of them. Nykyrian had taught Darling every trick a trained assassin had. Even some that no one knew.
And Darling had learned well. He forgot nothing. If any member of his line stood a chance of making it to old age, it was he.
Maris covered him with a blanket.
At least he’s talking to me again. That was something. But as he watched Darling finally sleep, he had the worst feeling that it was too late to bring him back from the insanity that had sunk its hooks into him. After all the things Darling had been through, Maris had never seen him like this.
His anger and rage were tangible.
“I just want the pain to stop.” Darling’s heartfelt words haunted him.
Maris’s gaze fell to the scars on Darling’s wrists that hadn’t come from his attackers or Arturo. Those had been Darling’s attempts to stop his pain when he was just a boy. Three times he’d tried to kill himself—once with drugs and twice by slashing his wrists. Three times they’d brought him back against his will. The only thing that had kept him from a fourth attempt had been Arturo’s threat to kill Lise if Darling tried again.
Darling’s entire life had been a study in trying to find shelter in the middle of an unrelenting storm that was determined to bring him to his knees.
Wishing he could help his best friend, Maris picked up Darling’s hand from the bed and studied the scar on his finger that showed where Syn had added the cybernetic replacement for the one they’d cut off.
He laced his fingers with Darling’s scarred ones. Why couldn’t I be what you need?
It was why he’d never been serious about anyone else. How could he? He was in love with his best friend and no one else measured up.
But Maris had long ago accepted the fact that they could never be lovers. Darling couldn’t help being straight any more than he could help being gay. Having tried to live in each other’s worlds, they knew that for a fact.
Even so, they were closer than most couples he’d known, straight or homosexual. Closer than any siblings. Maris took pride and pleasure in knowing that. He held a part of Darling that no one ever had. A special place that was reserved exclusively for him.
Still, it wasn’t Darling’s heart.