“He’s alive,” I whispered to myself, unsure if anyone else heard.
Glancing back over my shoulder at all my brothers, I saw their expressions mirroring mine. Every single man was in shock, their mouths agape and their eyes wide with surprise.
“Drew?” Eric said my name like he hadn’t been gone for so long.
And like the obedient son of the former king, I turned his way on his command, staring at him with nothing to say.
“Harry’s gone.” He stated it like it was fact. Like he knew.
I scowled instantly. “What?”
“Harry. He’s—”
I cut him off quickly, taking a step closer while wondering how the hell I must have looked to him, all bruised skin, swollen eyes and wounded arms with blood still splattered across my T-shirt.
“How the fuck do you know about Harry? What the hell are you doing here? How? How…” My head shook as all the questions rattled around inside of it.
Eric stepped forward, moving himself around Ayda as carefully as he could. “We need to talk.”
“You’re damn right about that!” Slater piped up behind me. “Someone needs to talk and talk fast. Where the fuck has Harry gone?”
I wanted to turn back to Slater, but I was so focused on the man in front of me, I couldn’t move. So I said what I needed to say like a fucking coward, not looking any of them in the eye apart from my father as I delivered Harry’s fate to their feet.
“Harry’s got cancer. It’s terminal,” I practically whispered. “I didn’t know until he got in Sutton’s car and told me. Like the hero he’s always been for me, he refused to let me go back to prison, so he took my place.” I rolled mytongue on the roof of my mouth and tried to rid myself of the fucking pain in my throat. “He’s got weeks to live…”
The cry of the men behind me sounded like a pack of whimpering wolves, each one injured from the emotional bullet I’d just shot straight into their hearts without build-up or warning.
Ayda pushed past my father a lot less delicately than he’d moved around her. She crossed the room in a few short strides with her head up and her eyes locking onto mine. She was unsure of whether to touch me or not, so she stood by my side, the back of her hand brushing my thigh. A silentI’m right here.
I grabbed her hand and curled my fingers into hers, tugging her to the side of my rigid body as the men behind me growled their quiet grief out through their gritted teeth.
Eric looked between Ayda and me, his eyes softening and his smile growing before he quickly cleared his throat and pressed his lips together.
“How long have you known about Harry?” I dared myself to ask him.
“Should we do this in private?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Just tell me,” I pleaded quietly.
Eric sighed softly. “A while.”
“You’ve been in touch with him this whole time?” I raised my brows and tried not to let him see that hit that delivered. The loss of Pete. The prison time. The release. The Emps. All the shit that had happened since he’d beengone, and there was a chance he knew all about it. “Harry lied to me this whole time?”
“No.” Eric shook his head firmly. “Harry never lied to youlike that. He did what needed to be done.”
“What needed to be done?”
“People needed to think I was gone for good, Drew. That I’d disappeared. That I could have been dead.”
“Including me?” I asked, hurt.
“Including you,” he answered quietly.
“Why?” I winced, curling my fingers tighter around Ayda’s.
Eric glanced around the room, assessing every pair of eyes that were focused on him and him alone. I could see he was trying to do a quick evaluation on who was there he recognized and who was there he didn’t know. His eyes lingered on someone at the back, narrowing even farther until he slowly brought his gaze back to me.
“Let’s do this in private. Not here. You and me…” He trailed off, turning his attention to the woman in my grip. “And Ayda.”
