Fennick looked like he knew the answer to what might have been a rhetorical question from me. He put deli meat on half the pieces of bread, then glanced up at me and asked, “Has he said anything about the crash?”
Crash. The scars. Something had happened to my alpha in the past.
I shook my head. “No. We haven’t really had time to talk about our pasts at all.”
Fenn nodded and put some cheese and lettuce on the sandwiches, then looked up at me and said, “Saint and I and the rest of our family were in a plane crash about twenty years ago.”
My mouth dropped open and a horrible feeling of fear and angst filled me. “A plane crash?” I gasped. “Not just a car crash?”
Fenn shook his head sadly. “A plane crash. It was twenty years ago next week, actually. We were on our way back from Spring Break in the islands. There was a storm, and for whatever reasons, the pilots decided they wanted to try to land in it instead of diverting.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” I said, not sure I was hungry anymore, even though Fenn finished with the sandwiches and brought one to me on a plate.
“It wasn’t,” Fenn said. “I guess it was a good thing that the plane was already close to the ground as it tried to land. But lightning struck and the pilots lost control. Out of two hundred and twelve passengers, eighty-three survived. Saint and I were two of the survivors. Our Dad and Papa and sister, Claire, died.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I said. That explained the scars, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud.
Fenn shrugged sadly. “I was only six. My memories of the whole thing are a little fuzzy. Saint was ten, though, and even though he won’t talk about it, he remembers the whole thing vividly. He’s dealt with PTSD since the crash. He’s had a lot of help, mind you, and he’s an amazing, resilient guy. But I don’t think it’s possible to go through something like that, and to remember it as much as he does, without suffering from the trauma of it all, even years later.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” I said. My heart squeezed in even more ways now. “He’s such an amazing guy, though. I really like him.”
I didn’t realize how much emotion I’d put into those words until Fenn grinned at me. “I like him, too. Yes, he struggles now and then, but he’s?—”
“Stop talking about me.”
I whipped around as Fenn looked past my shoulder to find Saint standing in the kitchen doorway. Unfortunately, he looked pissed.
“I was just telling Linus about the crash,” Fenn said, straightening and facing his brother with frank honesty.
“Well, don’t,” Saint said, marching over to the island and swiping one of the spare sandwiches Fenn had made. “I don’t like to talk about the crash. It’s in the past, I’ve overcome the trauma, it’s done.”
I was no expert, but I’d studied a lot of psychology in my efforts to become a teacher. “It’s okay, Saint,” I said with a hopeful smile. “Surviving a plane crash and losing so much ofyour family is going to stay with you for your whole life, no matter what you do.”
“I refuse to let it make me weak,” Saint snapped.
A second later, he winced, then let his shoulders drop.
“I’m sorry,” he said after taking a deep breath. “You’re right.” He glanced to Fenn, but quickly turned to me and held my gaze. “I’m sorry for snapping. Trauma does take time to heal. I can admit calmly and rationally that I don’t like to feel weak or out of control.”
My heart absolutely bled for Saint. Twenty years and he was still dealing with the events of one night. “I don’t think you’re weak at all,” I said. “In fact, I think you’re one of the strongest men I’ve ever met.”
Saint’s tense, stiff posture softened, and his battle expression melted into a reluctant smile. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “That really does mean a lot to me.”
I didn’t know how to reply. There were no words for how much I liked and admired Saint. He was such a contrast to me. I’d never really gone through anything in my life, and it had made me incredibly boring. Saint, on the other hand, had truly suffered, and it had made him into a genuinely lovely human being.
I sucked in a breath as my admiration, and yeah, my crush on him, spiked heat through me. Another wave was about to start, and boy was I ready for it.
Of course, before I could do or say anything to hint to Saint that it was probably time for us to head back upstairs, Lucas came charging into the room, wailing, “Holy fuck, Fenn! Another heat wave is coming on, and this one’s gonna be a doozy! I need that mighty cock of yours slamming into meright now!”
I laughed, not because I thought Lucas was particularly funny, but because the change in mood in the room happenedso fast. “I need to go back upstairs, too,” I told Saint quietly, lowering my head slightly and looking up at him through my lashes.
It wasn’t until after Saint drew in a sharp breath and growled that I realized my look might have come off as seductive. At that point, I didn’t really care. “Let’s go,” Saint said, offering his hand.
I took it and let Saint lead me from the room as Lucas dragged Fenn past us and up the stairs first, but part of me wanted Saint to scoop me up over his shoulder and carry me back to bed like he’d carried me from the auction conference room to the hotel suite. Part of me wanted to pretend that he was a dangerous man who had purchased me and wanted to get his money’s worth from me. I guess there was something to be said for dark fantasies after all.
CHAPTER NINE
Saint
