“I, um . . .” Colin abruptly pushed off Constantine’s chest, forcing him to back away. Constantine stood tall again. “I need to be alone,” he said before taking off for the stairs.

I moved on autopilot to go after him, but Constantine caught my waist, halting me. He drew my back to his chest, pinning his strong forearm across my midsection. “Tell him I’m sorry again. Tell him I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice broke as if he was about to cry. “Okay?”

I turned to face him, noticing his eyes reddening, realizing Colin wasn’t the only one who needed me.

“I’ll be fine,” he said like a promise while nodding. “Unlike him, though, I really do need a minute to be alone.” His forehead tightened as he kept his eyes locked on me, a silent plea not to press. To be with our son. Then he released me and gestured with an open palm, signaling what he wanted me to do, so I relented and went after our son.

Colin’s door was locked, but it only took a minute of begging for him to open up.

He dropped on his bed, holding his head in his hands, and I quietly sat beside him, resting my cheek to his shoulder.

We sat there for what felt like forever. Not talking and not moving, just being together as I did my best to absorb his pain and take as much of it from him as I could.

Eventually, he wordlessly stood and strode over to the window, finally breaking the quiet as he gazed outside. “If Carter doesn’t like him, what does that mean?” A world of hurt clung to his tone. “Carter’s Carter, and he doesn’t like that many people, but still.” He planted his hand on the window and rested his forehead against the glass. “But then there’s Constantine. And, well, he’s my . . .” He left off the word dad as if it was too much to handle saying it out loud.

I joined him at the window, gently stroking his back, consoling him as I shared the only thing that came to mind. “I have a feeling Constantine and Carter might be a lot alike. And when you have two strong personalities like that, it makes sense they’d butt heads a little.” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Kind of like you two have.”

I caught a flicker of a smile in the window’s reflection.

“And he’s already proven he’ll protect you.”

“Yeah, he told me you know he morphed into a total badass at the rave when he thought I was in danger. Dropped a body or two.”

Or two? “Mind telling me why he had to, um”—I shook my head—“drop bodies in the first place?”