Talk of Disco had been kept to a minimum, as neither of us seemed to want to go there. I wasn’t sure if he could see the anguish in my eyes as assuredly as I saw it in his, but I had a feeling he could.
“He loved that about you,” he eventually said, ending the agonizing quiet, and smiled thinly at the memory until he glimpsed the pained look on my face. I quickly shook it off and reminded myself that for Paine, Disco had been gone for a very long time. Unlike me, there was a substantial amount of healing that had taken place.
“My short attention span?” I asked, thankful the sadness I felt wasn’t present in my voice.
He nodded and moved closer, closing the distance step by step. Then we were toe to toe, chest to chest. I lifted my head as my chin tilted back, so we maintained eye contact.
“Gabriel wanted me to take care of you.” He brought his hands up, circling his fingers around my arms. “He told me that on more than one occasion.”
“You knew, didn’t you?” I tried not to let my resentment show. “How he was going to die?”
Paine’s brow furrowed, twin arches of lush brown coming together, and for a moment I saw the invisible weight resting on his shoulders, the horrible burden he always carried. His liquid black irises dulled, making the pupils indistinguishable, and I immediately lowered my gaze guiltily.
“You don’t have to answer that,” I blurted before he could respond. “It doesn’t matter.”
When I attempted to walk past him, he grasped my elbow in a light grip. “You hate me for it. Don’t you?”
Even as I responded, I wasn’t sure if it was the truth or a lie used to pacify him and ease his conscience. “I don’t hate you. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
“No?” He tugged my arm, waiting for me to meet his level stare. “So when I saw Gabriel leaving that night—clothed as he was in the very vision I’d glimpsed of his death—it wasn’t my fault for allowing him to walk out the door? Don’t you wonder about that? What might have been had I broken my rules for a change? Because I do. I think about it every single day.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I couldn’t stop the question, unable to help myself. It was something I had to know and was determined to understand.
Paine’s intense, unnerving stare was becoming almost more than I could bear. He seemed to be considering something, mulling it over. Suddenly, he took my hand and started leading me from the kitchen.
“Come with me.”
He guided me past the center island, until we were walking down the long hallway where the rooms were. He continued until we came to a door on the left. He didn’t let go as he opened the door, revealed a staircase, and we started making our way to the roof. After we stepped through the exit that would lead us outside, he strode to the long brick ledge surrounding the top of the building. A breathtaking view of the street just below The Razor greeted us, the streetlights coming on as the sun relinquished her authority and the night came to life.
“The year I was changed was a difficult one.” Paine stared ahead as he spoke, peering into the night. Lush waves of dark brown hair obscured his face from view. “I quickly learned that no matter what I touched, I could witness how it would die. It was agonizing and nearly drove me mad. The memories, if allowed to build, can consume you. The cost of control was isolation, which can become overwhelming to anyone. For a time, I wasn’t sure if I could stand it. Until one day when I decided to forsake fate.”