“Well?” he half laughed, half shouted. “Nobody? Nobody wishes to beat the Helm? It appears I am weakened tonight.”
He gave another strange laugh that felt horrible coming out of him, but he could not stop. He could not stop the urge to be beaten down, to stand back up and raise his fists and see if he could just punch his way through this mess.
Another drink was handed to him, downed in one go again, sloshing over his shirt.
When another opponent finally stepped into the ring, Gabriel grinned, falling deeper into his self-hatred.
He launched himself.
“You are causing quite the stir, you foolish bastard.”
Gabriel dragged his head up, squinting against the blood pooling in his eye. He had taken a hard hit to his temple, his opponent’s ring cutting his skin, and he had retaliated so hard that he had been tossed out of the pub.
Now, sitting on the pavement, he stared up at Nicholas, who glared down at him.
“Go away,” he sighed. “If you are only here to chastise me?—”
“Oh, I am here to do much more than that. Get up.”
“No.”
“Getup, Gabriel. Wallowing like this will not bring Sibyl back to your arms.”
At the mention of her name, Gabriel shot to his feet. “Nothingwill bring her back to my arms, Nicholas, and that is the whole damned point. I am not ignorant; I know exactly what I have done. And you know what, Nic? Sheshouldstay away, for I have ruined everything, and I will only do it again and again because that is the only thing I know how to do.”
“Gabriel, that is not true.”
“You know full well that it is. That there is something broken inside me, that it has been for a long time, even before Letitia’s death. I ruined whatever love my father may have once had for me, and I ruined Letitia’s life by telling her to chase love. I ruined Sibyl, and I no doubt have ruined Rosie, for she will grow up without a father.”
“Nobody is stopping you, you fool!” Nicholas cried, exasperated. He grabbed Gabriel by the arm, yanking him close as he swiped the blood around his eye. “Nobody is stopping you from going to Branmere Hall, falling to your knees, and begging your wife’s forgiveness. Onlyyouare holding yourself back.”
“Did you not just hear me?” Gabriel shouted, trying to pull away to no avail. He was too weakened by his injuries. “I ambroken.”
“Here is the reality, Gabriel: so am I, in a way. So is Sibyl. And so is every other damned person out there. We are all a little broken by something, but that only makes us human. It is what we do with those broken parts that sets us apart.”
Gabriel shook his head. “I cannot force her to come back. I cannot beg her either. I cannot do it, cannot put her through the heartbreak.”
Nicholas made an irritated noise and tugged hard on Gabriel’s arm, leading him to a carriage. He shoved him inside and slammed the door shut.
“If you will not listen to reason,” he snapped as he climbed in on the other side, “then perhaps you will listen to the dead.”
Gabriel frowned, protests and questions falling from his mouth, but Nicholas refused to explain. “I will not waste more words that you will not listen to, you bull-headed idiot.”
Through the darkening afternoon, Gabriel tried to figure out where they were headed. His heart thudded when he realized they had pulled up to Stonehelm Chapel.
“Nic?” He looked over at his friend, who just gestured for him to get out of the carriage. “Nic, why are we here?”
“You lost Sibyl because you could not put your need for vengeance aside, and that stems from Letitia,” Nicholas said. “So speak to her. Work through the need that drags you down, that keeps you with one foot in the past, even when you try to step forward into the future. Let yourself be forgiven, Gabriel, for you only ever tried to save her.”
When Gabriel did not move, Nicholas shoved him out of the carriage and followed him to Letitia’s grave. She was buried beside their mother after he had brought her remains back from Italy, heartbreakingly letting her rest close to their family.
The gravestone was made of white marble, a single flame engraved into it along with her name, birth, and death dates.
Beloved sister and daughter. May your flame ever burn brightly.
Gabriel had chosen the statement for her wild spirit, and he watched as Nicholas grazed his fingertips over it.
“Hello, Letitia,” he greeted quietly, bowing. “I have brought your brother here to see you. Hopefully, you will talk some sense into him. You always did give him a good earful.”
