“Guess I lied.”
I wait to see if he’ll deflect. If he’ll shut down the conversation. I half expect him to.
But he says, "I hurt him. Badly."
"How?"
"Does it matter?"
"It does if you're trying to make amends."
He takes a long sip, and for a moment I think he won't answer. Then: "I've done more shitty things to my brother than any reasonable man could forgive. But the last one... I went off the deep end. Forced him into a bet. Extorted him. And Rosalia. I didn't care if I destroyed either of them." He stares into his tea. "When I finally got my head out of my ass... I had to leave. I needed to get away from here. To..." He shakes his head. "I don't know. If I stayed, I'd just keep hurting people. Keep destroying things."
The raw honesty catches me off guard. This isn't the controlled Blackstone from dinner. This is someone who actually sees his own damage.
"But you came back," I say quietly.
"Temporarily."
"Is that why you didn't turn right around when Madison showed up with her blackmail?"
He nods slowly. "I'm facing who I am. What I did. Trying to be better." His throat works. "Or proving I can't be."
Without thinking, I reach across the space between us and squeeze his hand. Just once, briefly, before letting go.
"You came back. You're trying to fix the environmental mess. You made rules tonight because you're scared of losing control, not because you wanted to hurt her." I pause. "Well, maybe you wanted to hurt her a little bit. But mostly you're just... terrified."
His eyes snap to mine. "I'm not—"
"You are." I cut him off gently. "Of her, of me, of whatever this situation represents. And when you're scared, you lash out. I get it. But Madison's scared too. She lost her mother. Her whole world imploded. And a person who shares her DNA just told her she's nobody's."
He closes his eyes. "Fuck."
"Yeah."
Neither of us speaks for a while. The anger has burned itself out, leaving only exhaustion.
I take another sip of tea, letting the warmth settle. "So. Ground rules. Think they'll actually work?"
"Fuck if I know." He almost smiles. "But it's better than what we've been doing."
"True." I set down my mug. "At least now we all know where we stand."
"On opposite sides of a demilitarized zone."
"Better than active warfare."
"True." He studies me for a long moment. "Why are you being reasonable about this? After what I did, you should be planning my murder."
"Oh, I am." I smile, and so does he. "Multiple scenarios involving bourbon barrels and convenient accidents. ButMadison needs stability more than she needs me avenging her honor. So I'm choosing to believe you actually meant what you said just now. That you'll try. If not, I’ll revisit my plans with the bourbon barrels.”
He chuckles. “I will.”
"Then that's enough. For tonight, anyway."
I rinse my mug in the sink and head for the stairs. I glance back before leaving. He’s looking at me. “What?” I ask.
"Thanks. For not... I don't know. For this." He gestures vaguely at the space between us.
