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Quinton’s father, who was Tyson’s grandfather, had not been a very good man. He’d tortured Quinton and had done horrible things to Quinton’s mother.
I didn’t think anyone knew the extent of what he’d really done to Quinton, and I figured we’d never know. I just knew that well ran deep, and Quinton was very tightlipped about what exactly there was floating down in it.
Not that I could blame him. Nobody really wanted to share their living nightmares with others. Those were things we liked to keep in the dark.
The thing that bothered me about it, and not just with Quinton but with all of them, was that while they could keep their demons in the dark—I was more than okay with that—mine always had to be brought out into the light. I hated the double standard they had when it came to me, and I had my own ways of getting myself out of it whenever I could.
Quinton would take this way harder than Tyson would. He always treated Ty as if he were his little brother, but this was an actual little brother that he never knew he had. He named himself as the protector of his family, and just knowing he wasn’t able to be there for his little brother was going to eat him up on the inside.
I hated that for him.
And Tyson would hate it just as much as I did because he looked after his uncle just as much as I did. We loved him so much, and he needed us to look after him because he didn’t do very well looking after himself.
I cleared my throat and placed my hand over his on my thigh. “We are going to need to keep an eye on Quinton for the next couple of weeks. He’s going to beat himself up over this.”
He flipped his hand over and laced his fingers with mine. “You let me worry about my uncle, and you just worry about making sure you’re okay and healing. That’s what’s really important here. Everyone will agree with me, and you know it.”
I didn’t have anything to heal save for my mind, and only time would be able to help with that. He was nuts, though, if he thought I wasn’t going to help look after his uncle. It was my job to look after all of them as their other half.
“Are you going to be okay with Brighton living in the house with us? I know Quinton and I won’t want him to be too far from us. Not until he’s at least forty-five.”
The smile on my face felt small and foreign and not quite right. Tyson was going to take on the role of big brother too, no matter that he was Brighton’s nephew as well.
“Of course I want him to live with us. He’s our family, and we take care of what’s ours. It’s as simple as that. But what I want to know is, what are we going to do with the rest of the kids? And that drugged out idiot girl? And whoever else we find there?”
I felt a pang in my chest just thinking about all of those boys. They all probably had empty homes to go back to, but they were far too young to be living on their own and taking care of themselves.
“That’s a worry for another day.”
But should it really be pushed back for another day? Technically I was the only living member of the Council left. Didn’t that make them my responsibility?
I didn’t think so, but that seemed like a very selfish answer. Then again, I’d only agreed to join the Council in the first place for selfish reasons that had nothing to do with wanting what was best for the rest of our people or wanting to make a difference for the greater good.
I didn’t know that I had it in me to care about everyone else outside of my coven. It took everything I had to care about the people I loved. I wasn’t so sure I had it in me for much else. Was that selfish or was it just being realistic?
I didn’t have an answer, and that unsettled me.
The rest of the car ride home was silent, but the air was heavy. I knew we both had a lot on our minds to think about. I was just glad we didn’t have to speak about it.
That might have been the wrong way to look at things, but I’d be damned if I wasn’t incredibly thankful for Tyson allowing me to avoid all of our problems. He usually didn’t let me get away with this type of behavior. He always called me out and then made me face things head-on. But he always did it standing beside me and holding my hand like a best friend would.
I dozed off, and the next thing I knew, we were pulling into the garage. My Corvette was the only other car in the garage. I looked out the back window and saw there were no other cars in the driveway. I was very thankful I could not see the house next door. I wasn’t ready for that.
Maybe we really did need to put up a fence, because I didn’t even want to see the house next door. Not after watching him die.
I’d never step foot in that house ever again. Never.
I was glad we’d moved here, because it brought me to my real family, but that house was where Vivian died, and I had no desire to return to it. I had after she died, I’d even lived there for a brief time afterwards, but now with Marcus being dead too, I drew the line in the sand. I had my limits, and that was a hard one for me now.
Places, like certain things, had the ability to carry memories, and I would never be able to set foot in that house again without being assaulted with memories I’d forever associate with Marcus Cole.
If I had my way, we would buy a bunch of land in the middle of nowhere, put up a fence around the entire place, and then build a ginormous house that was big enough for all of us to have our own space. There would be zero neighbors for miles and miles.
But that was selfish and not something I would ever ask for.
Quinton had his house set up and it was what he, Tyson, and the twins had called home for a few years now. It was a home Quinton had made for them and a safe space. He had prided himself on giving them all a safe space.
I would never ask them to give that up so they could start over with me. Even though I knew they would do it for me, I would never ask.
