Free Last Rite by Lisa Desrochers

his.
    “We need to talk when I get back,” he says.
    It’s not a request. It’s a demand. And it makes my insides ache. “Okay.”
    His lips press into a hard line as he nods then pushes away from the counter. I breathe in his cinnamon as he brushes past me. He pauses as he passes Faith. “I’ll be right out,” he says, heading to his room.
    *   *   *
     
    When they’re gone, and I’ve finished with the dishes, I turn to find Gabe near the door. “I’ll check back later,” he says, tugging the door open and stepping through. But before he closes it, his gaze finds mine, and in that brief second, he can’t hide the pain—or longing—in his eyes. Then he’s gone.
    I trudge to my room, stick my iPod on the speakers, and drop into the soft brown armchair in the corner, curling into a ball as Breaking Benjamin sings for someone to show me a sign. I feel so nervous. I’m not sure what Luc means to say to me. Is he leaving? Staying? I don’t really know which I’m hoping for.
    Breathe .
    I close my eyes and my heart stings as my mind shows me what Luc and I had. I see us at the quarry, kissing under the stars; Luc, grease smeared across his face, under the Mustang; Luc and me in his bed. Here behind my closed door, I mourn our loss and let the tears fall.
    *   *   *
     
    It’s over an hour later when the front door clicks open. I listen as Luc’s bare feet pad across the family room on the way to his room. He’s breathing hard from the workout and I imagine the sweat trickling down his chest, between his shoulder blades, over his lips. I close my eyes and push the image out of my head. The bathroom door clicks shut and I hear the shower start.
    A reprieve.
    I have a few more minutes to pretend that this might not be the end of everything.
    I stand and yank a brush through my wild hair, tying it back in a knot, and then just stare at myself in the mirror over the dresser.
    Could you stay together … get married and have kids and all that?
    Grandpa’s question rolls around in my head, and I remember the hopeful look Luc wore when he answered. Luc was the first person I dared let in—the only boy I’ve ever really loved. My heart pounds with the memory of what it felt like to be that close to another person. I wanted a life with him more than anything. But what I know without a doubt is that a normal life with a normal family isn’t in my future.
    If there was some way I could give Luc that life, I would. I want him to have that, even though it can’t be with me. I saw how he looked at Faith. Could I keep loving him—keep him mortal—so he could love someone else?
    When I hear the shower shut off, I take one last look at myself then head to the family room and settle into the couch. The bathroom door opens a few minutes later, and Luc steps through with a towel wrapped around his hips. The black serpent tattoo around his upper arm stands out more sharply against skin a few shades paler than I remember, and he’s a little thinner. But what really draws my eyes are the pinkish-white scars crisscrossing his chest and arms. I have the sudden urge to kiss the angry burn on his ribs and make it all better.
    I want to make everything better for him.
    “I’ll just…” He gestures awkwardly toward his room. “Let me get dressed.”
    “’Kay.”
    He hesitates and his lips part to say something else, but then he looks away and strides across the room, disappearing behind his door.
    I can’t stop thinking about what he wants to say—what I’m gonna say.
    Figure out what you want, Frannie.
    I want things to be how they were before Lilith.
    I push the image of Lilith in Luc’s bed out of my head as I walk to the window and peer past Faith’s, down the beach.
    At first, my mind is elsewhere and I don’t notice them. But then I realize Faith is out there, at her front porch. And she’s not alone.
    Gabe is sitting with her.
    They look deep in conversation, and, as I watch, she leans her shoulder