And without protection…bad things happen.
He leans back in his chair. “Well, you know what they say. A quarterback is only as good as his team.”
“Right.”
His expression fills with remorse. “I’m sorry I paid off the cops. Our father was a monster, and it was wrong of me to try and cover that up.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “It’s just…the way I saw it, between Kyle’s blackmail and dad being the reason behind him blackmailing me in the first place, I figured I was owed something, you know?”
It makes sense. “Yeah.”
“They were dead. I didn’t want them to keep fucking up my life. Especially when I was on the brink of finally making my dreams come true.”
Can’t say I blame him for it. I probably would have done the same if I were in his position.
But I’m not.
I’m the kid who was held down and raped when he was seven.
Because I tried to protect my big brother.
But that wasn’t Asher’s fault and I’ve never once blamed him for it.
What I do blame him for…is taking something from me that I desperately wanted.
But I can’t make him understand why I’m slighted until he knows the truth.
Problem is…I don’t ever want to utter those words aloud again.
Telling Kit was hard enough.
Telling someone else? That’s a fate worse than death.
“I’m sorry for disappointing you,” Asher prattles on. “Between that and me inheriting dad’s money, I get why you’re so ang—”
“No, you don’t.”
He doesn’t get it.
And he won’t until I tell him.
Confusion spreads across his face. “What do you mean?”
I grip the back of my neck. “Yes, I was disappointed that you paid the police off, and yes I was pissed that you inherited his money instead of me…but not for the reasons you think.”
That only makes Asher more puzzled. “I know I’ve taken a lot of hits to the head in my life, but you’re speaking in riddles which isn’t really fair because we both know you’re the smart one.”
I plop down in the chair across from his desk. “I wanted his money so I could take care of Jameson.”
“Oh.” Asher sucks in a breath. “Shit. I wish you would have told me—”
“But mostly, I wanted it for revenge.”
Asher nods in understanding. “Yeah, I get that. We had a real shitty childhood thanks to that asshole, so we were entitled to it.” He jabs the desk with his finger. “Which is exactly why I would have given you whatever you wanted as long as you agreed to stop gambling.”
“We didn’t have the same childhood.”
He blinks. “Of course, we had the same childhood. We’re brothers.” His eyes squeeze shut. “I couldn’t protect you from his fists every time and I hate that, but I tried.”
Fists were preferable.
Fists I could handle.
Fists would only leave bruises that faded with time.
What he did left a permanent scar.
“I know you did.” Swallowing, I sit forward in the chair. “But there were some things you couldn’t protect me from, Asher.”
Shoulders sagging, he nods. “I know. There were times I wasn’t able to stop him from beating the shit out of you. I’m sorry—”
“I don’t mean the beatings.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
The words are trapped in my throat…I just can’t bring myself to say them.
I hold his gaze, willing him to understand what I’m about to tell him because I can’t say it outright. “Some things are worse than being beaten. Some things are the worst things.”
The kind that destroys your fucking soul.
It’s clear he still doesn’t get it, though. “Okay.” He rubs his head. “Are we still talking about our childhood and dad here? Or something else entirely?”
“Same topic.”
He steeples his fingers over his stomach. “Okay, so what you’re saying is, he did something bad to you.” His brows furrow. “Something that was even worse than—” I see the exact moment it hits him because all the color drains from his face.
His gaze cuts to mine, desperately searching for confirmation.
I give him a quick nod…and then I look away because it’s too fucking much.
Asher stands, clutching his chest like it’s about to explode. “That motherfucker.”
It rumbles out of him with the force of a bomb.
And then…
He goes fucking nuts.
I jerk back as he swipes everything off the shelves before flipping over his desk.
“Asher, stop.”
But he doesn’t. Making a noise that’s somewhere between a wail and a growl, his fist goes through the wall…leaving a large hole.
Shit. That’s his throwing arm.
When he winds his arm back again, I get out of the chair and run over to him.
“Stop.”
His fist goes flying, making yet another hole through the plaster.
“Goddammit.” He’s gearing up to do it a third time when I grab his arm. “Stop.”
A broken sound leaves him…and then he collapses on the floor. Taking me with him.
Asher’s always been emotional, but I’ve never seen him like this.
“No wonder you hate me.” He slams his fist against his head. “I was supposed to protect you. That’s what big brothers do.”
“It wasn’t your fault. And that’s not why I’m mad at you.”
He gapes at me incredulously. “How the fuck could you not be? It was my duty to pro—”
“Asher, you’re my brother, not a superhero. You always did what you could to keep me safe and for that I’m grateful.” I look at him. “There was no way you could have stopped him. Trust me.”
I couldn’t.
His shoulders rise and fall with his heaving breaths. “How come you never told me?”
Because I didn’t want my demons to become yours, too.
“I wanted to protect you.” When he opens his mouth, I add, “We both know you would have killed him.”
“Damn right I would have.” Rage lights up his face. “I would have slit his fucking throat.”
Me too…if it wasn’t for his bribes that fed my favorite pastime.
“If you killed him, you wouldn’t have the life you do now. You wouldn’t have a career—”
“I don’t care about that,” he seethes. “You’re way more important than football.”
The words dislodge something in my chest. Guess I have my answer to Kit’s question.
He swallows thickly. “Do you hate me because I’m gay? Because he—”
“No,” I quickly assure him. Hell, I was the one who encouraged him to be with Landon because I wanted him to be himself and be happy. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive. Gay people aren’t monsters.”
People who rape are.
Leaning against the wall, he hangs his head in shame. “But I covered for a monster.”
I nod because that’s the crux of my resentment. “Yeah.”