There will be time for all of it later. Questions. Speculation. Falling apart.
I can think of only one right thing to do.
One right person.
Gravitating to him has always been the most natural thing in the world. With him, I could always be truthful. He saw everything. He’d always been there. Quiet. Faithful. Kind. Unshakable. Just.
All the things his brother wasn’t and isn’t.
Wizard might be able to help me. Not with the money, but maybe he can find James. He’s good at that. Thebest, actually. Even if he can’t, he’s still the only person I want to talk to right now. I can already hear his voice, deep and soothing. Elemental. Ancient, even though he’s the same age as me. Wise.
Maybe this time, I’ll listen to what he has to say.
Chapter 2
Wizard
For once, it’s a good thing that my brother is a cheating sack of shit and a coward. He obviously realized he was in deep shit and fled. If he was anywhere within this State, someone would have to chain me up to prevent me from committing fratricide.
Slow, torturous murder, where I take my brother apart limb by limb.
The most inventive pain followed by a very unique death.
That’s a brilliant idea, actually. I could bring him to our private surgeon’s clinic and Archer could harvest James’ organs and sell them until we raise the full amount that he borrowed. He gets to stay alive, minus a few less vital body parts, and whoever the fuck he owes money to gets to fuck right off.
Esme is quiet. Too quiet. She’s given me a few curt, rehearsed sentences, controlled and emotionless, then passed me her phone so I could read the texts those goons sent her. The silence between us, for all that’s happened, is happening, and hasn’t happened yet, is natural. The quiet between two people who know each other too well to be nervous in each other’s presence.
I expected her to be a mess. Always beautiful, but painfully haunted. Dark eyes red-rimmed, brimming over, cheeks salt stained and pinched. Rumpled. Barely holding it together, biting down on her lip, curling her fingers into herpalm, looking anywhere but at me. I thought she’d arrive disassembled, the lovely pieces of her nothing more than jagged edges that I was going to have to fit back together.
I didn’t expect her stoic silence.
Her clothesareruined, damp like she walked waist deep through floodwaters to get here. The sand clinging to her here and there, small grains lingering on her ankle and big toe, a few dusting the hem of her pants, gives away that she went to the beach at some point before she called me.
I watched for her on the security feeds, unable to tear my eyes from the screens since her call came in. The wait was brutal. Every moment lasted a century. Esme’s words played on repeat in my mind.It’s your brother. I’ll explain everything when I get there. I just… can’t now. I’m sorry. I need to think. It’s all a mess.
After I hung up with Esme, I called Dravin. I told him that I had a family emergency and that I’d need him to cover the club’s security for a few hours. I thought he’d be pissed about the extremely early wakeup, but he arrived not looking the least bit annoyed, with two steaming cappuccinos from that coffee shop downtown that he’s addicted to.
Unlike some of the guys, I don’t have a place in Hart outside the clubhouse. I told Esme to come here, and then I brought her straight to my room as soon as she arrived. She took in the space for a silent moment, eyes sweeping over my things, a more intimate look under my surface than I’ve ever allowed. Although, I would have, if she ever asked me to show her.
She silently left her phone in my hands after she unlocked it and walked over to the single bookcase I have in the spacious room. I’ve been with the club for a while, so I have abig space, complete with a small ensuite. She brushes her fingers over the spines of the tightly crammed books. They’re ordered, but I need another bookcase. I wonder if they’re as nerdy as she expected they’d be, given that they’re mine.
She’s probably not thinking about any of that. I desperately want to know the shape of her thoughts. She hasn’t said anything more than those first few sentences. She’s rigid. Closed off. She’s always been good at locking herself down when she needed to be. Too good.
Before I guess at her thoughts, I should get my own under control. They’re spinning wildly, churning apart my normally well-ordered brain. I mean to choke back my anger and calmly talk, but a growl explodes from my throat, bursting out between clenched lips. “He deserves to die for how he treated you.”
Esme whirls, shock etched into a face I’ve dreamed of since I knew what dreaming was. “What the fuck, Wizard! That’s not true!”
I want to tell her that it is, but I dial it back. I force myself to breathe. Scaring her when she’s already rattled by this whole nightmare isn’t the way I wanted to go about this.
I want what I’ve always wanted.
Her.
To be there for her. To save her. To be waiting with open arms. To be the rock she can crash against, solid ground when all she’s known is shifting sands and turmoil. To be her shelter in the worst storms of her life. All the bad metaphors. That’s me, because I love her. I have since we first met when we were fourteen fucking years old.
I try again, choking back the suffocating emotions and channeling some inner touching grass bullshit. “He left. The one person who should have stood by you, left you to deal. Heknewand he bugged out. He didn’t even have the decency to warn you that you were in danger.”
Esme’s eyes widen like she hasn’t even considered that. Why would it not have been her first thought?
