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But Marcus didn’t laugh at me. He just looked at the photo and then looked at me, studying my face with an intensity that made my skin flush. And then he told me he thought I was right—that the boy in the picture is my brother.
He offered to help me find him.
My heart thuds heavily in my chest as I reach into my back pocket and pull out the small metal cigarette case I use as a wallet. I fish out the picture, running my fingertips over the familiar lines before handing it over to Ryland.
It feels a little like handing over a piece of my heart and hoping he won’t break it, but after the way Marcus reacted, I don’t feel as terrified as I once would have.
When Ryland takes it from me, the delicate way he handles it eases the tightness in my chest a little. He touches it like he knows it’s important to me, and that makes it important to him.
“That little boy is my brother. Maybe,” I add quickly, hating myself a little for qualifying my words like that.
I tell them both the same thing I told Marcus that night, about how a girl from foster care gave me this picture and how I’ve spent countless hours and money I really couldn’t afford to spend trying to track him down.
They both listen in silence, and by the time I finish speaking, we’ve pulled back into Theo’s garage.
He turns off the engine and shifts in his seat, taking the picture from Ryland and examining it carefully before handing it back to me. His fingertips brush against mine as I take the small photograph, and he catches my gaze.
“I’m not surprised Marcus offered to help you look. He’d do just about anything for you, Rose.” He glances back at the picture as I tuck it away, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “And he knows what it’s like to miss someone. Ry and I are both only children, but Marcus had a little sister. She died when he was a kid.”
I snap the cigarette case closed, blinking at Theo in shock. “He never told me that.”
“Yeah.” Theo casts a glance at Ryland, his lips pulling to one side. “He doesn’t talk about her a lot.”
Emotions swirl around inside my chest, and I can’t tell if I’m angry Marcus didn’t tell me about his sister or… or what. He basically forced me to tell him about my brother, and then he didn’t even tell me he had a sibling too?
I hate that he didn’t. I hate that there’s still so much I don’t know about him. Pieces of himself he hasn’t trusted me with, no matter how deeply obsessed with me or attached to me he might be.
But then, I’ve kept parts of myself hidden too.
Despite the spark of chemistry that flared like white-hot lightning between us, despite the genuine feelings I’ve developed for him, I still kept parts of myself out of his reach. It was a self-preservation instinct born out of too many lessons learned the hard way over the years, but I wish I’d let him in more. That I’d trusted him more.
What if I never get the chance now?
“What was her name?” I murmur.
“Alexis.” Theo’s voice is low. “She died when she was six.”
“Did you know her?”
He nods, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. “Yeah. She was a sweet kid. Marcus fucking adored her.”
I can hear the truth of his statement in his voice, and I try to imagine Marcus as a little kid, doting on and protecting a little sister. A little girl with features that mirror his, who looks at him like he’s her knight in shining armor.
I bet he was a great older brother.
Stuffing the cigarette case back into my pocket, I glance between Theo and Ryland. “You guys have known each other almost your whole lives, right?”
“Yeah,” Theo says. “As long as I can remember, really. The three of us have always been a unit.”
“It’s why Carson and Dominic teamed up to take us down. Along with whoever else Carson recruited.” Ryland’s expression hardens. “Like Theo said, alliances between players don’t usually mean shit. But the three of us would never turn on each other; we’ll always have each other’s backs. It’s painted a target on all of our backs, because people know we’re stronger together. So they’ll do what they can to split us up so they can try to pick us off individually.”
He doesn’t say the next words, but I hear them anyway as my mind flashes back to the pool of blood I woke up in yesterday.
Maybe someone’s already succeeded.
Chapter 9
Over the next three days, my head and hand both begin to heal. The nasty knot on the side of my skull fades, and the cuts on my knuckles scab and heal over.
