Chapter 35

Tom let Gabe arrange him on the bed, and curled his arm around Gabe’s back, stroking lightly, making Gabe shiver whenever his hand trailed over the half-numbed bruises. “All the cuddles you want, sweetheart.”

Gabe nodded, sleepy, and closed his eyes. Breathing in the warm scent of Tom’s skin, content and warm and safe. Cared for. Tom would wake him in an hour or so, make him eat and drink before his body’s needs overwhelmed him. Took care of him. Tom always took such good care of Gabe. He took one last shuddering deep breath and let sleep claim him. 8

One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. Once the stupid refrain had gotten into Gabe’s head—thanks, Freddie—it refused to leave. The continual looping sing-song went round and round and round, and in between were scattered images. The damn domestic terrorist brothers weren’t even named Fish, it was Fisc, but once Freddie had said it the first time, everyone had picked up on it.