“Disgrace to what?” I can’t believe I’m fighting back. I’ve been apologizing for my mere existence for years. I guess deep down, I’ve always known being a doormat was wrong. “There’s nothing left of our family name. Even if there were, I’m not doing anything wrong. This is where I belong. I love it here. Besides, I’m helping you, aren’t I? Why can’t you be happy for me? Why can’t you be grateful for once?”
“Grateful? What for?” His derisive laugh is terrifying. I won’t flinch, even if he can’t see me. “My sister turning into my former best friend’s whore? No, Elly, I won’t be grateful. Not when yousold your body to a lowlife who happened to stumble on some money. He’s not one of us.”
The last of my dread transforms into fiery hate. I don’t care how Barclay knows The Restorer is Duncan. I don’t care about any-fucking-thing other than defending my love.
Duncan doesn’t need me to do that. He wouldn’t want me talking to my brother at all.
Tough luck.
I’m doing it anyway.
“Shut up, Barclay,” I whisper, stalking to the other side of the room. “He’s not a lowlife. And I already told you, there’s nous.”
I’m not done, though. Barclay is going to get an earful from me, but Herbert and Mary shouldn’t hear any of it. This is between him and me.
“Once a lowlife,” Barclay has the audacity to hum. “Always a lowlife.”
One to talk, Barclay. Bedridden and miserable because you could never, ever, get your shit together.
I could say that to him. Accuse him of dragging both of us into this mess. Something only a lowlife would do.
But then the conversation would revolve around my brother.
Absolutely not.
This is about me forcing him to back off. To stop saying these demeaning things about Duncan.
“This man you’re talking about.” My fingers curl on the windowsill, knuckles turning white. “He’s footing the bill for your nurses, your pain meds, your goddamn healthcare?—”
“Language, Sis,” he cuts me off, tone condescending. “And give me a break. We were fine before you whored yourself out. We would’ve been better still if you’d married any of the menItried to set you up with. Decent men. Old money, like us.”
“There’s no us.” I’m burning up. Lungs, throat, my skin. “I’m my own person. I don’t even care about money. New, old, itmeans nothing to me. And you… I don’t answer to you anymore. Don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth when you were the one who tore Duncan and me apart.”
“I was taking care of you. Protecting you from getting attached to the wrong kind of person. As I said, he’s a lowlife.”
“AsIsaid, shut up. He wasn’t a lowlife when we were in high school, and he isn’t one now.” Good thing I didn’t have lunch. I would’ve thrown up, I’m so angry. “He wasn’t your bodyguard or the scholarship kid either. He was Duncan. He was perfect. And…”
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
“And…?”
Mocking me doesn’t hurt anymore. I just need this conversation to end.
“I love him.”
My eyes slam shut at the intensity of the moment. At saying those words that have been etched into my soul for over a decade. I feel this emotion, love, everywhere.
“I love him,” I repeat, my conviction stronger this time. Fiercer. “So take the money and stay away from us. Just leave us alone.”
I hover my finger over theendbutton when I hear him. “This isn’t over, Sis.”
“Yes, it is,” I growl and hang up.
23
DUNCAN
It’s late when the gates to The Estate part, and I ease past them.
