Juliet Immortal

so angry, so fast, and he just … did it. Without even thinking. Just jabbed it at my arm.” He pauses. “I actually think he felt bad after, when I started crying, but …”
    I don’t say anything, just hold him and listen. There’s nothing to say that hasn’t been said a thousand times before, nothing that can come close to expressing how sorry I am.
    “Victor was there and saw him do it. I was only five. Victor was eleven. He pulled me away from Ray, ran to the bathroom, and locked us inside. Ray banged on the door and yelled at us for a while—about how we’d better not tell Mom what happened and how it was my fault and on and on. We sat in there for hours, with my arm under the cold water, trying not to listen.”
    Ben’s muscles bunch ever tighter. “He eventually got drunk and passed out in his chair. Victor peeked out and made sure Ray was asleep. Then he left the bathroom and went into Ray’s closet and got his shotgun. He had it loaded and aimed at Ray’s head before I understood what he was going to do.”
    I hold him tighter, wishing I could erase all this pain from his past, give him back the innocence he lost when he wasn’t much more than a baby.
    “I started crying and ran over and pushed him. I got there just before the gun went off. The bullet shot into the kitchenand destroyed our microwave. No more corn dogs, not for almost a year,” he says, a note of finality in his tone that leaves me reluctant to ask what happened next.
    How did his family get through that? What did his stepfather do to his brother? What did his mother say when she got home? How long were they forced to live with that monster? Had their mother known what a dangerous person she’d set loose in her sons’ lives?
    But I don’t ask any of those questions. This is Ben’s story and he’ll tell it his way.
    “My mom divorced Ray and didn’t really date anyone after that. Even though she was a total babe when she was young. I mean, obviously I got these looks from somewhere,” he says, and I can tell he’s smiling. “But Victor was never the same. It was like … even though he didn’t shoot Ray, a part of him did. He knew he shouldn’t have picked up that gun and he never forgave himself for it.” He shrugs. “I think that’s why he became a cop. It’s some kind of a test or something. To see if he can carry that gun and only use it if he really has to.”
    We’re silent for a long time, listening to the rain pounding on the roof, the wind whipping through the spaces in the wood planks, and the thunder rolling on to destinations farther south. I want to lift my head from his chest and find his mouth with mine, to let him know how much his trust means with a kiss.
    But touching Ben anymore is dangerous. Instead, I say the truest thing I can think of. “I love you.”
    He laughs beneath his breath. “I like that a lot better than ‘sorry.’ ”
    “Me too.” His hand smoothes my back, up and down, slower and slower until I can tell he’s getting close to sleep. “Ben?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Thanks for telling me. It helped.”
    “You could never hurt anyone anyway, Mermaid.” His lips find my forehead, kissing me softly. “Even if you wanted to.”
    Maybe he’s right. I’m not sure I
can
kill Romeo. I’ve never been able to damage him without feeling horrified by what I’ve done, let alone do anything more serious. But even if I could, I shouldn’t. Ben is right. Nurse is right. Taking a life is an act of darkness, no matter how foul the person, no matter how many awful things he’s done. Even if the Ambassadors are a lie, that is a truth I will cling to.
    I’ll just have to find some other way to deal with the threat Romeo poses.
    “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” I whisper into Ben’s neck. “Promise me you won’t be alone with Gemma or Dylan ever again. Promise me you’ll stay safe.”
    Ben is quiet for a long moment before his breath snuffles out through his crooked nose. He’s asleep. And he snores. Just a little. I smile, treasuring this new thing I’ve learned about the boy I love, praying I’ll be able to learn more. Learn it all.
    Maybe I can work out a bargain with Romeo, persuade him that he has to leave this town—or better yet, the state of California—as soon as the spell is complete. Surely he’ll see there’s no point in staying with me. I don’t love him. I never will.
    Then you’ll never reclaim a body of your own
.
    Right. Romeo insists that