Page 250 of Boys Who Hunt

Max sinks to the floor too, despite the half-healed wounds on his back, and he wraps his arms around Heath. “Stop. This is not your fault. Stefano caused all of this. Stop letting the guilt eat you alive.”

“He’s right,” I say.

“This is why you needed those ketamine pills, didn’t you?” Max asks him.

Heath nods, but he can’t even look us in the eyes. “They gave me a means to escape my own emotions, because it was easier to deny them than to feel like the world was caving in on me,” he says. “To feel like I was being crushed by the weight of my own fucking love for the people close to me. And I failed you both.”

Those pills allowed him to hide, to exist without feelings, to lull the dull ache living in the corners of his heart. He wanted to be loved so badly, and no one ever noticed.

I hug him even tighter, feeling overwhelmed by how much he’s kept buried.

“It’s okay,” I say. “You made a mistake, and you fixed it.”

“I didn’t fix shit. Max did. He gave you an escape,” he says through gritted teeth.

I grab his face to make him look at me. “And you came back for me. Even when you were the only one left standing, you came to my aid. You protected me with your life.”

He lets my words sink in for a moment. I can see it in his eyes.

“I wanted to save you and Cora. No matter if it cost me my life. I needed you to be safe,” he says. “I needed you …” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

Doesn’t finish the thought because that’s just it.

This is the end of it.

This is what he’s been wanting to say to both of us.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“What?” I mutter, leaning back.

He stares into my eyes, almost as if he wants to drown in them. “Even if you don’t want me anymore. I will fight for you.”

Part of me wants to push back, pull away, and run.

But another part of me desperately wants to return to whatever it was that we had when we were together. All four of us.

And I don’t want to lose that either.

Sudden clapping has us all looking up. “Wow, what a sappy love story.”

We all get up off the floor now that he’s here to judge us.

“Silas,” Max says with an annoyed look on his face. “Glad to see you’re back up and running.”

“Who said anything about running?” Silas retorts, limping closer. “That’ll take a few more days.”

“You sound like you’re back to your old snarky self.” Heath clears his throat. “I almost missed it.”

“Almost?” A filthy smirk forms on his face. “Aw, you wanted me dead instead?”

“Of course not,” Heath retorts.

“You were knifed in the leg, not the heart. Don’t exaggerate,” Max says.

“Well, something hit him in the heart, that’s for sure,” Heath jests.

“What did?” I mutter. Max and Heath stay awfully quiet, and it pisses me off. “What aren’t you telling me?”