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I study him over the rim of my glass as I take a sip. We have a tumultuous relationship but I choose to give him the benefit of a doubt until he speaks his mind.
He stares off again as he drags his thumb ring across the table then taps it on the table a few times.
“Your agenda must require a lot of thought.”
He glances at me because he’s not sure what I mean. “Why do you say that?”
“Your thinking face is engaged.”
“Thinking face?”
“Yeah. Whenever you’re in deep thought, your face crinkles and you stare off into the distance.”
“Damn. How in the hell do you know that? Are you some kind of stalker?”
“No. Your brother.”
Berke flinches then takes another drink. “Right. Let’s try this again. In the hospital, I was awake most of your conversation with Imala.” The server places some calamari between us and he picks up the conversation the moment she disappears. “I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. Sienna calls it envy. Not all childhoods are rainbows and sunshine, ya know? You got to stay on the island with parents who loved you. My mom is a piece of work who’d constantly tell me that my dad’s only interest in me was writing a check.”
I stop chewing because that’s the farthest from the truth. My dad would be so hurt when Berke didn’t want to see or speak to him. Now, I’m not sure if that was the case. Berke shakes his head at the memory.
“I used to tell her it wasn’t true. I would fight with her about it but she’d just point out that my dad was rich and powerful and he didn’t use any of his influence to fight for me. When I’d visit the three of you would look damn happy and you were merely a reminder of everything I didn’t have. I’d felt like a meal ticket for my mom and an obligation for my dad and you had all the love. I was just the bastard child he had to see to not look like an asshole. My mom reminded me every summer to remember my place. ‘Don’t befriend that little shit. He’s not your brother,’ she’d say repeatedly until it was ingrained in my brain. Any mean thing I’ve said to you came from her. I was just a child trapped in adult problems.”
He shakes his head and drinks more beer as if he’s having a battle with maintaining his emotions. I keep quiet because although my heart hurts for him, I know this is something he needs to get out.
“Then Oran showed up and he stopped sending for me. My mom said he didn’t care to see me now that I was not the one inheriting the seat at the Founder’s Table.” He smirks like the memories don’t hurt but I know they do. “I’ve been called some form of worthless ever since. I cut her off when I was old enough to get my money directly and she never fails to remind me that my dad didn’t care about me. In short, I’m nothing like that sick fuck uncle of ours. I feel every fucking thing but have learned it’s better not to feel at all.”
Berke finishes his beer and signals for another while I attempt to digest everything he’s told me.
“I told you all of that to say, I’m sorry. I know I could have made better decisions as an adult but conditioning is a bitch. I was too busy in my own shit
to ever consider that my actions hurt you as well. Everyone loves you so much I’m surprised that there isn’t a statue of you somewhere. I didn’t stop to think that you might have needed me.”
Nodding, I clear my throat to try to keep my emotions in check. His mom fed him so much bullshit I want to choke her.
“Excuse my bluntness but your mom is a fucking liar.” His snort tells me I’m preaching to the choir. “She hurt all of us. Dad threatened to take you from her more than I can count but she’d give him these sob stories or threaten to kill herself. I’m sure there’s much more but you’d have to talk with him for the details. As for me, all I wanted was a brother who didn’t hate to see me coming. It was my Christmas wish every year until I stopped believing in Santa. Then it became a hope and a prayer.”
“Well, it was answered when that bat shit crazy wife of yours ran me out of my home and back to the island.” We pause to look at the menu then order our entrees. Berke picked up where we left off. “That took some guts and if you love her for nothing else, love her for that. I have dinner plans with Dad next month and we’ll iron out the rest. I just want you to know that even if Imala reinstated everything today, I’m not running off again. If that grumpy ass cousin of yours can embrace a surprise brother then I’m willing to give this brother thing a try if you are. If you tell anyone I said this we’re going to fight, but Caerwyn Hale, will you be my brother?”
I laugh then fan my eyes like a girl who has just received a proposal. “Should I answer now or are you getting on one knee?”
Berke raises his eyebrow. “Only reason I'd get on my knees is to punch you in the dick.”
I chuckle and he joins in, I try not to dwell on the knowledge that this very well may be the first time just the two of us laughed together.
“Let’s not upset Imala. If you punch me in the dick I can’t help you with whatever she’d cook up as revenge.” I sober and move back to the original subject. “You didn’t have to ask, Berke. I’ve never considered you anything other than my brother. I’m just happy you’re now willing to participate.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Imala
I’m relaxing on the porch drinking some fresh squeezed lemonade while pretending I live somewhere hot and humid like the southern United States when Wyn pulls up in his Maserati SUV. He looks as sexy as ever with his hair free of product and fall in his face, black shades firmly in place, and his t-shirt pulling against his chest in all the right ways. But, it’s his smile. He’s truly relaxed and happy. That’s somehow more arousing than usual.
It’s strange to witness Wyn and Berke laughing together while looking like their own dark-haired versions of sex and heartache but it’s welcomed. Placing my glass on the table, I stand to greet them as they climb the steps of the veranda. The sunlight reflects off Berke’s beard to reveal slight streaks of red. Our eyes connect and he wraps me up in a bear hug before I can react. His big body squeezes the air out of me. The speed is almost dizzying. His clean yet spicy scent invades my nostrils and provides more contrast between him and Wyn.
“What are you doing?” I croak between squeezes.
“Put my wife down,” Wyn laughs but doesn’t intervene.
