something wrong, even back then. He had been so sure Ronnie was finally going to tell him what it was, and then Jason had come around and he’d lost track of everything else, just like he always did.
"I’m so sorry,” Colt gritted out. “I should have listened.”
Ronnie frowned. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It wouldn’t have mattered. I wasn’t… I didn’t want anyone to know.”
The tinges of shame came back into his eyes, and just when Colt thought he couldn’t hate Miles any more, he found a way.
He could protect Ronnie from everything but a ghost. He’d already killed Miles, but knowing what he’d done, knowing what he was, a thousand torturous deaths wouldn’t have been enough to quell the rage in the pit of Colt’s stomach.
It would have been a start, though. But he couldn’t even offer Ronnie that.
“You never told your parents?”
Ronnie turned so pale at the suggestion that Colt already had his answer. “No. No, I… he told me he’d hurt them if I ever did.” He swallowed hard, and Colt could tell the past was pulling him under again. Trying to drag him off to those distant shores where Colt couldn’t do anything to reach him. He gave a small laugh, bitter and broken. “At first, I was young enough not to question it. When I finally did, he showed me it wasn’t just some idle threat. He had dirt on my dad. He said he knew shit that would make sure he was the next ‘tribute’ to the Moreaus if I ever got out of line.”
Colt’s throat constricted too tightly for him to speak for a few moments. When he finally regained the ability, his voice was gravelly and strained.
“I’m so sorry.” It was the only thing he could say. It felt as meaningless once the words were out of his mouth as he’d feared.
And what could he say? He couldn’t pretend to understand what Ronnie had been through. He’d had some shitty foster homes, sure. He had been physically abused and neglected, but never anything like that. All he could offer was sympathy, and that felt as inadequate as the retroactive vengeance he’d taken against Miles.
It wasn’t enough. Nothing ever would be. But fuck, it didn’t stop him from wanting to try.
“He’s gone,” Ronnie repeated. Colt got the feeling he was trying to reassure himself of the fact as much as anything. “It doesn’t matter. I should be over it, it’s just these fucking memories,” he said through gritted teeth. “I was fine, and now everything is all jumbled. Vaughn’s memories, and mine. And all the other people in my head.” He gave another dry laugh that ended in a broken whimper. “I bet you’re really sorry you brought me back now. It was pathetic enough to love you when I was just a fat loser with anger issues, but now I’m all that and crazy, too.”
Colt knew his black, self-deprecating humor was a defense mechanism, but that just drove the ache in deeper. He took Ronnie into his arms, slowly at first, until he was sure he wasn’t going to pull away.
“If anyone else said half the shit about you that you say about yourself, I’d kill them,” he mumbled into Ronnie’s neck, cradling the back of his head and stroking his soft tresses. The black dye had worn off on all but the tips, leaving behind the dirty-blond hue of his natural hair. Colt breathed in the faint, clean scent of shampoo, mingling with Ronnie’s scent. He’d forgotten just how much he’d missed it, and it was the first time he had actually had the chance to savor it up close for this long.
Ronnie sank into his embrace, albeit reluctantly. Colt held him even tighter. He hated that even now, even when it should have been the furthest thing from his mind, Ronnie’s scent stirred the same madness the taste of his blood had. One drop, and everything since had paled in comparison. He really was a special brand of fucked up.
“You’re perfect,” Colt finally said, once he trusted himself to speak without sounding like the wild animal that was still trying to break out of his skin. That was the last damn thing either of them needed right now. His Alpha form was too much of a dumb fuck to realize this wasn’t a problem that could be solved with claws and rage. “All of you, in every way. You always have been. And the only regret I have is that