Chapter 9
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Derek poured himselfanother drink, knowing it wasn’t going to help. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to kill the pain he felt.
It was all his fault.Hewas the reason that bastard had come into her life. Because of him, the one girl who’d meant more to him than any other had spent the last decade in hell. A hell he had put her in.
Ah, Christ.Derek leaned over the sink, breathing past the gnawing need to vomit. He didn’t know what to do or where they’d go from here.
His phone rang. He wanted to ignore it, but it was Eric. They’d made a pact long ago that, if it was possible, they’d always answer if the other called.
Derek swiped the screen before putting the phone to his ear. “Hey.”
“Hey, man. Sorry I bugged out on dinner the other night. We finally caught a break in the Torres case, and I couldn’t run the risk of passing it off to someone else. I’ve been working non-stop since.”
“No worries.”
“How’s Charlie?”
Derek glanced back at the bedroom where she’d been hiding out since they got back from their shorter-than-planned excursion.
“Not good.”
His brother cursed. “Anything I can do?”
“Help me kill that sonofabitch, Porter.”
“If only,” Eric scoffed.
“It’s all my fault, Eric,” he admitted painfully.
“What’s your fault?”
“I’m the reason they got together.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Eric listened quietly as Derek relayed the whole story.
“Ah, hell, D. That’s not your fault. Just shitty timing after a big misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding that never would’ve happened had I been more clear about who Kim was. If I’d just told her from the start that Kim liked women, Charlie wouldn’t have thought twice about what she’d seen.”
“You can’t torture yourself with what-ifs, brother. You know that.”
“No, man. You don’t get it. Charlie and I...” Derek paused.
He’d never told his brother about his feelings for their friend. Out of respect for Charlie, he’d planned to talk to her about it first to see if she felt the same way.
