Page 79 of Cross Me

“Clara, he nearly hit you,” Alexander said, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“But he didn’t,” I said.

“Semantics.” Alexander jerked his head. “Get him out before I show him what a real punch looks like.”

Anders moved toward the door without a struggle, Brexton behind him.

“For fuck’s sake,” I said, finally losing it, “you are brothers!”

Betrayal flashed in Alexander’s eyes, but he covered it quickly. Lifting his head, he met Anders’ confused gaze. Anders looked between us, then to everyone else in the room.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded when no one spoke.

“Albert was your father,” I said gently. I took a step toward him, glanced at Alexander’s strained expression, and thought better of it.

“Todd Stone was my father.” Anders’s face hardened into stubborn refusal. I recognized the look. Alexander wore it often.

“She’s telling the truth,” my husband said. He came to my side and looped his arm around my waist as though he needed my support to get through this. “After my father died, we discovered he’d been taking care of an ill…another child—a son none of us knew he had. I began to investigate and it led me to you.” He cleared his throat, but his words were thick as he added, “You’re my brother.”

Anders looked around the room, his jaw unhinged. His mouth clamped shut, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “You’re telling me this is my family.”

“Yes,” I said. “I know it’s a lot to process. I had a hard time when he told me.”

“And when did he tell you?” Anders rounded on me. “Did you know the whole time?”

“I told her after your accident,” Alexander said.

“That ashamed of me, huh? You probably wish the accident had finished me off.”

“How can you think that?” I asked.

Anders threw his head back and released a shaky laugh.

“I’m sure you have questions.” Alexander was doing an impressive job of keeping his head. I took his hand and squeezed it.

Anders zeroed in on our clasped hands. He looked up and shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“You must want to know about your father,” Alexander said.

Anders leveled a glare at him that sent a chill shivering up my spine. “Todd Stone was my father.”

He turned and strode out of the room. I started after him, but Alexander held me back.

“Let him go.”

“No, X.” I pulled free and ran after him.

I caught Anders in the White Drawing Room.

“Stop,” I begged him, unable to keep up with his long strides in my heels.

“Why?” He whipped around to face me. “You’ve made it clear that there is nothing between us and now…”

“This isn’t about—”

“What is it about, Clara? Am I supposed to hug you and call you sis and show up for Easter brunch?” He moved closer, leaving very little space between us, and lowered his voice. “Am I supposed to join the family and pretend that I’m not in love with you?”

“You aren’t.” I swallowed, praying Alexander hadn’t followed us.