“No more than I had to.”
“Liam, tell me, is my brother still alive?”
He hesitates then reluctantly pats my leg. “He’s still alive. He’s in the other room right now.”
My heart leaps and stutters. Excitement filters through me, but it’s quickly squashed by the grim set of Liam’s mouth. “This is good, isn’t it? I mean, Luke’s okay?”
“You don’t understand…” He kisses my head along the bandage. “I’m breaking a lot of rules right now.”
“I want to talk to him.”
“That’s not a good idea. The doctor said?—“
I push myself off the bed. Swinging my legs over the side makes me dizzy and I have to use the wall for support. Liam curses and comes after me, but once it’s clear I’m not going back to bed, he growls something about me being a stubborn idiot, but helps me out toward the living room.
“Keep it short. You need rest. This can wait.”
“I’ll do my best.” I pause in the hallway and face him. I get on my toes to kiss his chin. “Thank you. I know you should’ve handed him in to your boss, but you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.” He looks uncertain. “But I can’t promise I still won’t.”
“I know. Thank you all the same.” I kiss him a second time. “Now, let me talk to him alone.”
“Regan—“
“No arguments. You go take a shower. It’ll be fine.”
“He almost shot you.”
“No, he shotyou. Can you blame him?”
“That’s the only reason he’s not dead.”
“Wonderful. Go shower, you stink.” I push myself away from him and stagger on. Liam lets out a frustrated grunt, but in the end he doesn’t follow.
I find my brother tied to a chair near the windows. His head is slumped forward and I think he’s asleep. His chest rises and falls steadily, and there’s a clump of dried blood on his cheek. I sit at the edge of the couch a few feet away and watch him.
How did we end up here? What was Luke thinking, trying something like this? It makes no sense. He spent his whole life trying to please our father, trying to be like our old man the best he could, and mostly failing, but still. He wanted to be a part of the Whelan clan more than anything.
And now, he’s a traitor.
“Regan?”
I remain very still as Luke’s head lolls. He picks it up and fixes on me, squinting through one black and swollen eye. Despite the bruising, it doesn’t look like he’s been injured too badly.
“You’re alive. That’s good.” I smile weakly at him. “I wasn’t sure you would be. You know, after you tried to shoot me.”
The color in his face pales. “No, never, I would never try to hurt you, I swear. I saw Liam behind you and I panicked.”
The fear in his eyes reminds me so much of him as a little kid. It kills me, seeing my brother like this, bloodied and tied to a chair, but I don’t move to let him go.
“What were you thinking, Luke?”
The question comes out heavy from my mouth and it holds so many layers. The gun, the blackmail, everything: what thehell was he thinking? I’m desperate to understand, because I can’t keep going on thinking my brother would do something so terrible without a good reason. If he says money, if he says power, maybe that’ll make me think less of him, but at least I’ll understand. Right now, he’s a black box and it’s killing me, this strange liminal space of not knowing and also being afraid to find out.
He groans and leans his head back. His eyes squeeze shut as he grimaces with discomfort. “Can I have some water?”
Pity hits me. I get up, shuffle to the kitchen, and grab him a glass. He drinks greedily when I come back. When that’s done, I sit again, stretching my legs.
