“Being so fucking hard on you all the time. Saying you don’t use your head and you always think with your gun. I should have helped you, not berated you.”
“You should have,” I say, not willing to let him off the hook.
After Mom was killed, I was left alone to fend for myself in this family. Carter got all the life lessons, all the skills to run this family, and all the coaching to be the face of the Whitlocks. I had to figure shit out on my own and he and Dad never liked how I handled shit.
Naturally, I rebelled and did what I wanted, mostly to get shit done and make the world fear me, but also to get their attention.
“I know,” he says. “I might not have shown it much, but I wanted what was best for you. Still do.” He looks over mybody, tears rolling down his face. “I hate seeing you like this, D. All fucked up because I wasn’t there to protect you.”
I growl and sit up, ignoring my pain. “I don’t need you to protect me, Carter. I need you to be my brother. You’ve acted more like my dad when all I wanted you to do was have my back like a brother was supposed to. That’s all I’ve wanted.”
Carter nods, wiping his face. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’ll do better…if you let me.”
After what I’ve been through, I don’t want to waste time on the past. Yeah, Carter fucked up constantly by bitching at me instead of guiding me, especially when I needed to learn how to handle myself in this life, but any of us could be gone in the blink of an eye. I know Carter loves me. He never hesitates to say it, but he has to work at showing it.
“Sometimes,” I say, fiddling with my cast, “I don’t think you like me.”
“What? I?—”
I raise my hand to cut him off. “Carter, some of the shit I did…I only did it becauseyou’vedone it. Starting fights, shooting first, that’s shit I learned from watching you. But when I do it, you bitch about it. It’s like I can’t do anything right in your eyes. What I do, I do to protect this family, both the Whitlocks and the St. Clairs. If I think someone is threatening us, I put them down. You’ve done it too, but it’s not a bad thing since you were the first son, the one that was supposed to take over. I’ve had to prove myself, again and again, and all you and Dad do is tear me down.”
Emotion flicks across his face—shame, sadness, guilt, and anguish. “You’re right. I never thought about it that way because Dad rarely scolded me for getting the job done. You’ve never made a move that wasn’t in the best interest of our family. I’m sorry, D.”
I didn’t know I needed that apology. A weight I didn’teven know I was carrying lifts from my shoulders. I nod and duck my head, hiding my tears from him.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the blackmail? And…Nico?” I look back up at him but don’t answer. “You really didn’t trust me.” Hurt tinges his voice.
“No, I didn’t. I knew if I said I was being blackmailed, you would have bitched at me for doing something that caused retaliation. Nico promised to keep my secret, and he did. He was none of your business. He was only for me. I wanted to keep what we had to myself.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“I know.”
Carter grunts and pushes himself off the floor. “Don’t tell him I said that. I barely like the fucker.”
“He’s the reason I survived,” I say quietly. “We weren’t just fucking around. He was helping me. He saw all the anger I had and how it was clouding my judgment and he helped me see past that.”
Carter looks shocked. “How?”
“By talking to me and actually listening.”
Carter winces, then comes to sit on the bed. “Okay. I’m listening.”
My hand—and the goddamn cast it’s in—goes to my ribs and rubs against the scar there. I’m shocked to realize that since Nico and I have been involved, I hadn’t needed to fall back on the numbness in my scar to ground me. I could think past my grief.
“I was grazed by one of the bullets that killed Mom.” Carter’s eyes widen. “Here.” I pat my chest. “It’s all I have left from her. She was all I had. You were Dad’s but she was always in my corner. I fucking miss her. I know you and Dad do as well, but after she was killed, Dad went on his rampage, and you spent all your time trying to be just like him. I don’tthink you two even noticed I didn’t speak for close to eight months. I was hurting and no one was there for me.” I lower my hand and pick at the bedding. “I heard you and Dad in his office one day. You were crying and he was comforting you. But no one thought to come to me.” I meet his eyes, tears brimming, but not falling over. “I was eight.”
“Christ, Declan.” Carter threads his fingers through his hair. “We didn’t think you wanted us around. You wouldn’t let anyone touch you, and you wouldn’t come out of your room.”
“I needed someone, too. When Dad sent Hendrix to bring me out of my shell, it was the first time someone cared. That’s why his death hit me so hard. Hendrix was the one that comforted me, even though he was a kid himself. That’s why I didn’t want to hire another guard when he was killed. Who else would get me like he did? But you and Dad never asked. You both assumed he was just someone that worked for me. He was my best friend, my brother. He’s not easily replaced.”
Carter scrubs his hand down his face, hurt etched across his expression. “I’ve seen you touch your chest before, but I never thought…fuck, I’m sorry, Declan. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make up for how badly I fucked up. When you were taken, I realized how much I didn’t do for you. How I just expected you to fall in line and never actually talked to you about anything. I should have been better. Like you said, I should have been a real brother to you, not just always trying to be like Dad.”
I nod and lean back against the pillows, feeling suddenly exhausted. “You weren’t completely wrong. I did think with my gun. A lot. I had so much anger and hurt bottled up that I never stopped to consider another way to handle my shit.”
“You had cause most of the time.”
