“About the coven! He wanted to know about his parents.”
My heart pounded in my ears.No, don’t let him find out about?—
Rowan’s nails dug into my arm. “My grandparents…” he choked out.
Shit.
Rowan’s eyes watered. “You never told me,” he murmured.
“Because I was afraid that this would happen,” I smoothed his hair.
“You should have said something. I had to find out…like this.”
“Corbin, what’s going on?” Maeve asked.
“My grandparents…they lived rightdown the road.” Rowan’s voice rose with every word. “They might still live there. Corbin knew, and he never told me. You never told me.”
His words cut through me like Arthur’s sword slicing through a Far Darrig. I glared at Aline. This washerfault. She should never have said anything, or let him get this upset. Couldn’t she see how much her words stressed him out?
“I knew if I told you then you’d want to see them,” I say quietly. “They’re not nice people. I always meant to tell you, but you made so much progress and I didn’t want you to relapse, and then months turned into years and it was too late.”
“That was my decision to make.”
“I know you. I know what you can deal with, and seeing them would’ve broken you. I visited them. They were the first people I tried when I went looking for you. Melanie told me she’d paid some officials a lot of money to make it appear as if you had no family. They changed your name, your story, everything.” Rowan’s face froze in an expression of such raw pain. My throat closed up. “They told me if you ever showed up on their estate, they’d have you shot.”
“I needed to see them, Corbin. I needed to know for myself, but you kept me from my family.”
“We’re your family. I thought that was obvious. They don’t give a shit about you and I do. I’ve done everything for you. I helped you get sober. I got you through the diagnosis and treatment. I protected you?—”
“You can’t protect people by sticking them in a bubble.” Rowan’s eyes flashed. His body shook so hard his foot tapped against the counter.
“Is that what I did?” my voice boomed. “I stuck you in a cage like an animal at the zoo? Or did I wipe your fucking arse and clean up your puke and hold you down so you wouldn’t throw yourself out a fucking window?”
Flynn winced. I was being a total dick. I didn’t want to yell at Rowan, but I couldn’t stop. My hands trembled.
I nearly lost him.And it was like…it was like he was blaming me.
I already blamed myself enough for both of us.
“I’m not Keegan!” Rowan shouted. He kicked out with his leg, splintering the wooden cupboard door.
The crack of the wood breaking froze the room. Rowan never raised his voice, never yelled, never lashed out in anger. Not since he got sober. I sucked in slow, laboured breaths, trying to force some calm into my shattered body. Maeve’s eyes bore into mine.
Rowan lowered his voice, choking out the words. “Corbin, you know I’m not Keegan.”
The room spun. Rowan’s face morphed into Keegan’s – the last time I’d seen him alive, when he’d railed on me in a mighty rage, screaming that I was the favourite, that I wanted him out of the way so I could have Mum and Dad all to myself. And then he climbed up a tree with a length of rope and…and...
“I know you’re not Keegan,” I whispered.
“You don’t, you don’t! You think that I’m mad at you, so I’m going to off myself just to spite you. You think everything that’swrong with me could be cured if you justwork hard enough. You think if you save enough of us, you’ll be absolved of your guilt. But it’s not enough, Corbin. It’s never going to be enough, because you have nothing to be guilty about. Your brother died because he was unhappy and his head was messed up. It had nothing to do with you. You thinkI’mthe one who’s messed up like that, but you’re not going to get any peace until you forgive yourself.”
My knees cracked as they hit the tiles. I barely registered the pain shooting up my thigh. A deep growl rose from my chest, tearing out of my mouth before I could stop it. Blake stepped back, his expression terrified.
Rowan shuffled forward. He rested a hand on my knee, and his eyes watered with shared pain. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered. “None of it is your fault.”
“I…”
Nope, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t dislodge the guilt.
