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I frown. “X, what the fuck?”
He looks at me. “I was the one holding our dying brother’s hand while you were probably balls deep, so how about it’s my turn to speak?”
Ryker cackles and claps. “Brilliant.”
“Fuck you,” Xavier spits out, but Ryker’s amusement only grows. “There’s someone you love more, Silence. There has to be.”
Silence’s spine is stiff, her expression stoic. “I love you all the same.”
Xavier brings his fist down on the table, his breathing fast. “Bullshit. You were married to Zayden for nine fucking years.”
“Stop it, X,” I say. “Don’t put her in that position.”
“What positions did you have her in, little brother?”
Zayden finally speaks. “X. Don’t.” He’s still breathless, but clearly stronger than before. “Silence loves you. That’s enough.”
“Is it?” Xavier asks, looking between us. “Maybe that’s easy for you to say because you’re her husband. Yale is her best friend. What the fuck am I?”
“You’re the love of my life,” Silence says, and his gaze cuts to her. “You all are.”
My brother looks torn between rage and despair, and guilt burns through me. He falls silent, staring at his food-filled plate, speaking only once to call Bullet over. The dog sits by Xavier’s feet, head resting on his lap.
Ryker finishes his meal. None of us touch a thing.
An apology is on my lips, regret in my heart, but I know Xavier can’t mean this. We’ve been through hell these last few weeks, and he wants someone to blame, that’s all this is.
Silence takes Zayden’s hand. She whispers something to him, and he nods slowly. When she finally looks at me, she mouths an apology, but I shake my head.
Ryker shoves his empty plate away. “Let’s play some after-dinner games, shall we?”
None of us speak. Not even a witty insult from Xavier. The armed men lining the room watch us, clearly intrigued by what’s about to unfold.
“We need some room.” Ryker stands, gripping the tablecloth. He drags it off the table, glasses and dishes tipping over, food spilling onto the floor. He tosses it aside, wiping his nose with the back of his hand before sitting again.
That’s what’s different about him.
He’s high.
Leaning down, he grabs the wine bottle and finishes the last of it, red droplets running down his chin. Then, he places it on the table—and spins it.
I watch the dark bottle spin, and spin, and stop—on Xavier.
Ryker claps. “Perfect. Let’s go for the fucked-up brother first. Either you tell a truth, or I tell a truth about you. Which will it be, X?”
My brother stares at Ryker, clearly weighing his options. His expression is cold, eyes lifeless, and he turns that chilly glare on Zayden. “Silence proposed to you because she thought you were me. I met her first, not you. And I’ve always hated you for it.”
Zayden blinks, lips parting. He looks like he’s warring between the infection and the adrenaline. “What?”
Judging by Silence’s expression, she knew. Tears fill her eyes. “Xavier.”
“No, it’s about time I said it. Maybe now I can heal, right? Give me a fucking drink.”
Ryker cheers, finds a glass and the whiskey, and pours Xavier a drink. He throws it back, and Ryker pours him another before slapping him on the back.
“Good man. Starting things off with a bang.”
He spins the bottle.
