“I…” Caleb shakes his head. “I kidnapped you. I could’ve killed you. And I never would’ve known.”
“Would it have been okay if I wasn’t your sister?” I shoot back, and Caleb lets out a deep breath, closing his eyes.
“No.”
“Glad we’re agreed on that.”
His eyes open again, and he tilts his head toward me, his blue eyes bloodshot. “How did you find out?”
The fidgety feeling inside me intensifies. Despite all the time I spent looking for him, despite my desperate drive to find my brother, I’m not good at… being his sister. I don’t even feel like I know what that means right now.
But I answer his question, holding his gaze as I do. “I looked for you for a long time. I had an old picture of us from when we were little. But it was all I had.” I grimace. “Now that I know who adopted you, it makes so much fucking sense. They must’ve buried the records of you, paid people off to destroy them. They didn’t want anyone to know you weren’t their natural born son.”
“I hate them.”
He says the words dully, as if the emotion hasn’t had time to truly settle in and take root yet. Or maybe it’s buried itself so deep in his soul that all he can feel is the aching throb of it.
“Yeah, me too.” I nod, because that’s at least one thing we can agree on right now. The rest of our relationship, whatever amount of one we may eventually be able to salvage, will take time to develop.
But at least we can unite in our shared rage against the people who stole him away from me. Who stole us from each other.
“The stuffed animal you had,” I say quietly when he doesn’t speak for a moment. “The one you said your mom burned. Was it an elephant?”
His brows draw together in surprise. “Yeah. It was. It was all beat up, but I loved it.”
I nod, surreptitiously reaching up to wipe away a tear that escapes and tracks down my cheek. “I dreamed you left it with me. Maybe I just wanted to believe you left some part of yourself with me.”
Caleb bites his lip, something heartbreaking passing over his pale features. “I don’t remember you.” He lifts a hand quickly, holding it out as if to correct himself. “I mean, I know it’s you, but… I can barely remember. I spent all my life thinking those little memories I had were nothing, that they were just shit I made up when I was a kid. It’s all just vague, random stuff.”
A weird sense of relief washes through me, and one corner of my lip twitches up into an almost-smile. “That’s okay. I don’t really remember you either. Just, like you said, vague stuff. Things I wasn’t even sure were real.”
“You remember some things,” Caleb mutters, and the self-loathing in his voice is evident. “Jesus, Ayla. What I did. What happened… It’s so fucked up.”
I’m silent for a long moment, considering his words. I can feel not only Caleb but the other three men too waiting to hear what I’ll say. Waiting to hear my verdict.
Finally, I lick my lips and let out a breath. “This guy named Dominic once did some pretty fucked up shit to me, yeah. But the guy named Caleb?” I shrug. “I don’t know anything about him yet.”
Caleb swallows, his Adam’s apple dipping. I can see the strain of exhaustion on his face, and I know he needs to sleep again, to keep healing.
“Do you want to?” he asks, his voice quiet. Almost scared.
This time, I don’t pause as long to consider my answer. I could. I could spend hours—days, weeks—debating about whether what Caleb did is worth forgiving.
When the words fall out of my mouth, they don’t come from the logical, analytical part of me. They come from my heart. And they’re the absolute truth.
“Yeah. I think I do.”
Chapter 24
After our conversation, Caleb falls back asleep quickly.
I’m relieved. The words we exchanged were a tiny step toward a future, toward some kind of something between us. But I’m too exhausted to navigate what it all means, and I know we’ll have to navigate a lot of bullshit to get to a better place.
But Caleb wants to.
And so do I.
Theo and Ryland both pointed out how much Mr. and Mrs. Roth influenced Caleb as they raised him as their son. Teaching him to expect the world to fall at his feet, probably, while at the same time grooming him to be so loyal to his family that he’d feel like it was his duty to play a dangerous game with deadly stakes just for the chance at bettering his family name.
It’s fucked up, but it gives me hope that the person I hope my brother can be is buried deep down somewhere. I saw glimpses of that man this weekend, starting with the moment when he saved our lives.
As Caleb dozes in bed, the men and I file quietly out of the room.
We find Victoria leading Doctor Brenson out. The man is so used to minding his fucking business that he just gives Marcus a tiny nod of his head—the only acknowledgement that not that long ago, the doctor saved Marcus’s life.
Marcus returns the nod, and when Doctor Brenson is gone, Victoria turns to us. Her limp has improved, which I take to mean she’s on some pretty good painkillers.
Digging into her pocket, she tosses a set of keys at Ryland. He snatches them out of the air, raising a brow as he does.
“So you can get the fuck out of here,” she says bluntly. “I’m not hosting a slumber party.”
I almost grin.
Once again, even the smallest gesture of kindness on her part has to be covered up by a sharp comment. I wonder vaguely if she’s spent so long thinking of herself as a bitch that she doesn’t realize she isn’t one.
Ruthless, cunning, and fierce as hell, yes.
But not a bitch the way Natalie is. Not petty. Not cruel for cruelty’s sake.
I think, as insane as it sounds, I’m actually starting to respect this girl. I could even see myself liking her.
Ryland’s lips purse, but he doesn’t say anything. He just nods at Victoria then turns to the rest of us. In answer to the unspoken prompt, Marcus takes my hand and starts leading me toward the garage.
I go willingly, keeping pace with his long strides.
This won’t be the last time we see Victoria or Caleb. There’s still a shitload of stuff to figure out.
But right now, I need to go home.
As soon as we get back to Theo’s place, all four of us head upstairs.
We don’t even discuss it, just like the guys didn’t have to speak before they pulled me down onto the sofa with them back at Victoria’s house.
We need to be together right now. As bone-tired as I am, I know I couldn’t sleep if I didn’t have all three of them with me.
Touching me.
Breathing the same air as me.
Reminding me with every small movement that they’re still alive.
I strip off my borrowed jeans and crawl into bed, and the men are right behind me, shucking their shirts and pants and sliding in beside me. I end up sandwiched between Theo and Marcus, with Ryland’s hand tangled in my hair.
The heat of their bodies warms the space beneath the covers, enveloping me in a sort of cocoon.
I think I try to say something, but before the words can make the short trip from my brain to my mouth, I lose them.