"I…” I clear my throat, take a big swig of the bourbon and relish the burn going down my throat. I deserve it. I’ve been playing it over and over in my head and I’m a fucking idiot. “I kicked him out."
The words sit there. Ugly. Bane doesn't look surprised.
"He called me selfish," I say. "And cruel. Told me I was doing the same thing I did before—saying no, pulling away—but this time for my own reasons instead of his."
"Was he right?"
"Yes."
Silence. Zero shifts at the window. Barely perceptible.
"Your turn," I say to Bane.
Bane pushes off the bookcase. Walks to the desk. Picks up his bourbon and drinks—not a sip, a real drink. Sets it down. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"What happened in that cell wasn't biology." His voice is rough. "He was terrified and he trusted me and I held him andI'd do it again. Every time." He looks at me. Direct. "I want him. That hasn't changed. I told Zero in the car after the guards—I was going to claim Max. Wasn't asking permission."
"I know." Because I can feel it. The same pull. The same scream.
"But Zero said something." Bane glances at the window. "And I've been chewing on it for two weeks."
Zero. At the window. Hands at his sides. Not crossed, not clenched.
"He asked if I’d even considered what Max might want. Not biology.Him.That's what I can't stop hearing," Bane says. "Because the answer isn't one of us. And I think we all know that."
"We don't know—" I start.
"Yeah, Atlas. We do." Bane turns to face me fully. "We've known since the hotel. Since the four of us were in that suite and the air went thick and he looked at all three of us like we were the only safe place he'd ever been. He didn't look at one of us. He looked at all of us."
Zero shifts at the window. "Okay, but we're doing it again. All three of us. Circling. Competing. Deciding who gets him." He looks at me. "You said no because you decided he wasn't ready. Then you kicked him out because Bane got there first." His eyes move to Bane. "And you walked into that cage—brave—but then you came out ready to plant a flag."
Direct hit. Both of us.
"He's not a flag." Zero drops his hand. "He's a person who's been moved between people his whole life. It’s not fair to him."
"Fine," Bane says. He runs his hand through his hair. "So what's the play? We back off? We wait? We take a number?"
"We stop competing," I say. "Stop circling. Let him come to us on his terms."
"And if he only wants one of us?"
The hardest question.
"Then the other two deal with it," I murmur.
"That's bullshit."
Bane. Sharp. Glass hitting the desk hard enough to crack against wood.
"It's—"
"No, Atlas,it's bullshit." He leans forward. "We're sitting here acting noble. Stepping back. Giving him space. But what are we actually saying? That one of us gets him and the other two spend the rest of their lives pretending they're fine with it?" He shakes his head. "That's not a solution. That's a bomb with a longer fuse."
Zero shifts at the window. Not toward Bane. Not away. Alert.
"What do you want me to say?" I keep my voice level. "That we share him? That three brothers—"
"Don't." Bane's voice drops. "Don't make it sound ugly to avoid thinking about it."
