Somewhere Between the Depths

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lydia

I'm draped across Darko's lap in one of the outside chairs. We're facing the garage, away from prying eyes as his fingers twist and tangle into my hair as he pulls my mouth to his. His mouth fits mine perfectly, soft lips moving gently, lovingly against mine. I've never had this. I've been wanted, sure. But I've never been treasured, cherished, treated like something of value. Not until Darko.

And although it's been years, it was like no time at all had passed when I saw him again. He was slightly older and so was I, but all the butterflies that appeared the first time I saw him came whooshing back, threatening to knock me off my feet. We should've kept in touch when I went to New York. I had every intention to, but then everything happened with Nora, and I was so angry with all the Horsemen. But if I hadn't been so stubborn or afraid of confrontation, then maybe I could've saved Nora all those years of heartbreak.

Enzo thinks it's his fault that Nora and Silas were apart for so long, but it's really mine. I've failed Nora all our lives, starting with the abuse she endured from my father. We've talked about it so many times over the years, Nora stripping her soul bare as she recounted gruesome story after story. She tried to convince me that it wasn't my fault, but it's not true. I may have only been a child, but I saw the bruises she would carry. I should've told someone, anyone, but I let her suffer while I kept my silence.

I don't deserve to be absolved from guilt. The more Nora opened up, the more I understood her rage all those years. She deserved to burn the world down, and if she came to me now with a handful of matches, I'd provide the flint and stand beside her as she tossed them out.

She's strong, stronger than I'll ever be. I don't know that I would've had the strength to take that much abuse for someone else. Nora did it for years to save me from a similar fate, but could I last that long? If I had to guess, I'd say not even a day. As much as I wish to be more like her, we're not made of the same stuff.

I glance down at my pristine manicure with disgust. My body has never been marred or harmed in anyway. I'm the portrait of untouched, while my sister is the portrait of torture. I don't think she's ever known a day of peace except for those few months she spent here with Silas. That was the happiest I'd ever seen her, and it was ripped away too, as if the universe has some kind of personal vendetta against her.

"Hey," Darko says softly, tipping my chin up with one finger. "Where'd you go?"

His voice is gentle, barely heard above the cool wind and raucous chatter of his brothers. I gaze into his sparkling eyes; lost in the way he looks at me.

"I want to move back here." I confess.

I've thought it for a while, too afraid to breathe a word of it to Nora. When we first came to Variety, I couldn't stomach the thought of a small town, but being with Gran and then seeing the change in Nora... And meeting Darko.... It grew on me, faster than I'd ever admit. All my life I'd dreamed of New York, of the fast-paced life of Manhattan. Of the Upper east side and cosmopolitans and all the glitz and glamor I knew my inheritance could buy. But even when I was immersed in the life I thought I wanted, none of it made me happy.

Being back here, I feel happy and content. I feel like I belong here. I know Gran has enjoyed New York the past few years but I can't wait to see her face when she sees what Nora has done. The old place looks fantastic, exactly like it did in the photos Gran showed me. Brand new just like the day Pop built it. I never got to meet him, but I've heard he was a mountain of a man. Larger than life, strong and sure of himself. He wasn't afraid to protect his family and those he loved. Max Blackstone was a man to be respected. I know he'd be proud of Nora, of that I have no doubt, but I wonder what he would think of me.