“Just because.”
“My big brother, the one I’ve looked up to my entire life, the one who always had answers can’t tell a woman how he really feels. Imagine that.”
“Don’t give me any shit. Just be honest with me. Did you leak the information to the reporters?”
“Fuck, no. I don’t have a death wish. Was I angry you shut me out of the meeting with Lopez? You fucking bet, but I don’t stoop so fucking low, Christian. Those aren’t my tactics. They are yours.” We glared at each other while he continued rubbing his jaw.
“I could fucking kill you.”
“Then go ahead. Do it. Fucking do it. You’ve been wanting to hurt me or worse for over ten years. Just do it.” He lunged toward me, driving both his palms against my chest.
Anger rushed to the surface again and I threw myself at him, getting in two solid punches before he jammed his fist into my gut, sending me tumbling backwards.
We both gasped for air, shifting back and forth. He lunged for me again, the brutal crack in my jaw jarring. I didn’t hesitate, punching him in the stomach. When he tried to use a wrestling move on me, I wrapped my arm around his neck, jerking him back against me.
“That’s not true,” I hissed.
“Isn’t it? You’ve hated me, blaming me for Caroline’s death for over ten years. Ten years! You wished I’d died instead of her. Admit it. Fucking stop being a coward for once and admit it.” He jerked at my arm, able to ram his elbow into my gut.
I didn’t feel a goddamn thing.
“I never wished you were dead,” I insisted. “How could you think that way? How?”
“Because you’ve barely talked to me. I have looked up to you since I was a kid. You were my idol, my mentor and you treated me like I’d wanted her to die. Do you know how her deathcrushed me? Don’t you know how horrible I’ve felt, the guilt that’s been eating me alive?”
I shoved him hard, disgusted at what I was hearing.
He tripped, but caught himself, turning around to face me. “Go ahead. Do whatever you want to do to me. I just don’t give a damn any longer. If I could go back all those years ago and change places, I would. Do you know how many times I’ve thought about that? Thousands. I loved Caroline with my whole heart. So just kill me. Do it!”
Gasping, I stumbled backwards, shocked by his words, the pain in them and the agony on his face. When I moved closer again, he bristled, but I wrangled him into a bear hug. “Goddamn it. I never wanted you dead, Carson. You’re my brother. I love you.” I clapped him on the back, the horror of what I’d done for all these years hitting me harder than I could have ever imagined.
I pulled away, holding his shirt collar, loathing what I’d done to him before and now.
“I’m so sorry, Carson. We were both suffering and I ignored yours. I’m a terrible brother. It was my fault. What happened to both of you was my fault.”
He gripped my arm, cocking his head. “No, it wasn’t your fault. Nothing about her death or my life was your fault. I fucked up. I should have been watching her. I was too busy needing a fix. I didn’t learn, carrying that with me through life. Why do you think I tried to overdose? Why? It should be me in that grave. Not her. I let you down.”
“No, brother. I let you down. For that, I’ll never forgive myself.” I pulled away, turning completely around because I couldn’t bearto see the pain in his eyes. The pain I’d caused. The years I’d lost. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“I don’t blame you, brother. Not for anything. I just wanted you to love me like you loved Caroline. I know. Pretty sappy for a guy. Right?” he laughed.
I chuckled because there seemed like nothing else that could be done.
“Fuck. What are we doing? We’re both suffering, Carson. All this time wasted.”
“Cause you’re a stubborn mule.”
Laughing, I nodded as I found the courage to face him. Seeing the damage to his face, I cringed. “You’re bleeding.”
“So are you. Plus, you look like shit, buddy. You want a drink?”
I huffed. The one thing about my brother I was never wrong about was when he was lying. Like the night Caroline had died and he’d flat out lied to me that he hadn’t been high on drugs when the incident had occurred. Maybe that’s why I’d never been able to forgive him. “Why the fuck not? Maybe some ice.”
“That I have plenty of.”
I took off my jacket, tossing it across the back of his couch, following him into the kitchen. He retrieved two glasses and bourbon. The entire day had been way too emotional, but as usual, Vanessa was right. She knew me far too well and hell, that almost pissed me off. Imagine that. “She’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?” He poured two hefty glasses, placing one on the kitchen island for me then placing the bottle beside it for easy access.
