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‘Say again?’
‘He was a monster. I didn’t think he even deserved the dignity of a funeral.’
Something coursed through Nikhil at that moment. Thick, and intense, though he couldn’t have said what it was.
‘Then why the hell didn’t you even say one word to me?’
For a long moment Daksh didn’t speak, and when he did it wasn’t to answer.
‘Shall we order a drink?’ he asked, though it wasn’t really a question.
Then he simply lifted his hand and a suited man moved instantly, one of several discreetly dotted around the room that Nikhil now realised were part
of his brother’s entourage.
Daksh had an entourage?
They sat in a heavy silence, each silently evaluating the other, until a waiter materialised with two tumblers of rich amber liquid. Its peppery tobacco heat pervaded his nostrils, telling him this was a quality not even seen at the Captain’s table.
They both took a pull simultaneously, sending heat and spice across Nikhil’s palate, followed by a creaminess that ended in rich, spicy fruits. It was impressive, though he wasn’t about to tell Daksh so.
‘I was ashamed.’ His brother spoke suddenly. ‘And full of guilt. That’s why I didn’t talk to you that day. I couldn’t.’
It was such an unexpected confession that Nikhil didn’t know what to say. He simply sat, every muscle in his body taut and still, unable to move.
His brain conjured up an image of Isla, and somehow that seemed to soothe his soul.
‘I should never have left you to deal with him alone,’ his brother continued, every word measured and heavy, as though he found it the hardest thing to say, as though he’d spent years rehearsing it. ‘I knew what he was capable of. Most of the time he managed to keep it to just a beating, with a black eye or bruises that took weeks to heal. But there were a number of times I ended up in hospital because of him. Once with a broken leg, twice with a broken arm, twice with broken ribs.’
‘Broken ribs. A knife wound. And once he sliced the bottom of my feet.’
Daksh cursed, a hollow, rasping sound loaded with hatred and suppressed fury. Somehow, it made Nikhil feel better.
‘I thought he wouldn’t touch you,’ Daksh bit out. ‘Or at least that was what I told myself. I thought that he targeted me because I looked more like our mother. I guess I wanted to believe that so that when I got out I could justify not going back. The one time I did, when he’d come out of rehab, you never mentioned anything. But I should have come back. I should have known he’d turn on you once I was gone.’
‘He didn’t at first,’ Nikhil heard himself say. ‘That first time you came back, he hadn’t done anything. He went into rehab, and kept it going for a few months. I thought he had changed, but with hindsight I think he was just scared in case the authorities cottoned on. Not that they were any good back then.’
‘I should have said something but...’
‘You were embarrassed,’ Nikhil finished when his brother trailed off. ‘A grown-up kid getting beaten by his father. I know that feeling only too well.’
‘You never should have had to. I was the older brother; I should have taken care of you.’
‘Eighteen months older.’ Nikhil shook his head. ‘I don’t think I’d have come back either, in your position. Though I’ve blamed you for it, all these years.’
It was odd how things could change in a heartbeat. Decades of censure and bitterness, gone in the space of half a conversation.
Because of Isla, a voice whispered. But Nikhil shut it down. She deserved better than him. She deserved a man who was good and true, who didn’t have a black heart. At last Daksh had owned up to his mistakes, whilst he still hadn’t faced up to his.
Maybe now was the time—there would be no other.
‘I killed him, you know.’ The confession scraped inside him, cutting and twisting as it left his body. And yet, even with the words out there, he felt something inside him begin to stir to life.
‘No,’ Daksh bit out instantly. Harshly. ‘No, you didn’t.’
‘I had a knife.’ For the first time in forever, Nikhil let his mind go back to that night, the silhouettes beginning to take better shape as the fog finally, finally began to lift. ‘I stuck it in him.’
‘No, you didn’t.’ Daksh recoiled, and Nikhil suddenly hated the horrified expression on his face.
