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"I killed a cartel member. Then, after that, I gave Rook something that belonged to us."
"Excuse me?" Coulter's gaze hardened. "You gave him something that belonged to the Kings?"
"The notebook. The one from your fathers' vaul––"
"He did it for me," Tatiana rushed out. "To get me out of my contract wi--"
"I don't fucking care why he did it," Coulter's gaze, burning into me, filled with the fire of betrayal, hurt, and anger, all mixed into one. "You betrayed the family? Bourbon? Rose?" It didn't escape my notice the way that his voice caught at his next word, "Me?"
It had only been this past year that Bourbon and Coulter had reconciled a decades long feud. Before that, it had been me, Dante, and him. Brothers in every sense of the word, except for blood.
We were as tight-knit as any family could be.
I nodded, shame burning through me, but I had to face the consequences. I betrayed my family for Tatiana, and now, I had to face the consequences for her. To be the man I needed to be to deserve her.
"How could you?" his voice was low and filled with anguish.
Tatiana reached out, "I told you, he did––"
"How could you?!!" Coulter roared, rage overcoming all other emotion and filling the short space between us. Then, suddenly, he was slamming against me.
I gasped in surprise as we fell to the floor. The air exhaled from my lungs at the impact. He straddled me, fingers gripping my shirt. He raised a fist. "How could you do this?"
His face was red with rage. Pain lanced in his voice. Echoed through my bones at the impact of his fist against my cheek.
Bones crunched, blood spurted from my nose.
"What the hell am I going to tell Bourbon?!" He hit me again and again. "Rose?" And, in that moment of rage, I understood. He wasn't mad at me for what I'd done. He was upset at what Bourbon might do.
To me.
Growling and straining against the pain, I rolled. Flipping him over, we tumbled on the floor. Each of us trying to get the upper-hand. Fists flaying and tunneling, grunting as we fought as only brothers could.
Getting out our aggression and anger without any real heat.
Because when it came down to it, Coulter would stand by me. No matter the cost for him. Because he was loyal like that.
But I couldn't let him take the fall.
The lamp crashed, snuffing the light in the room. Tatiana's voice, calling for us to stop. The door springing open, Romeo staring at us in surprise.
My nose was now bleeding. My shirt torn, the side table busted.
We rolled again until we slammed into the side of the bed. I felt Coulter's anger, his desperation, as he tried to gain the upper-hand. I grabbed the mattress, shoving my body upward. Coulter rolled, and then I was on top, roaring. "Stop!"
He suddenly stilled in surprise at my outburst. I almost never yelled. Cut marks marred his cheek. Blood sprayed across his face and shirt. His t-shirt too was ripped.
I tried to catch my breath. "This is on me, Coulter, not you."
"It motherfucking is on me, Knight."
"It's not. I did it, not you."
"It doesn't matter and you know that," Coulter spit out. His chest was heaving but his anger was starting to subside. "You know I won't let you take the fall."
"Fuck that and fuck you," I growled. "This is all on me." I leaned down, nose to nose, eye to eye. "All. On. Me."
We stared at each other like that and, for a brief moment, I saw something in his gaze I hadn't seen in a long time.
