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“I don’t know.”
Yes. For fragments of time, they were the same person. And I was the same person I’ve always been. A dangerous, violent monster who doesn’t know when to stop.
“So.” Sin folds his hands over his stomach. Part of me wishes he’d stop looking at me this way, all concerned, brotherly bullshit. But the other part thinksfinally, someone saw.Saw what, exactly, I don’t know. “Who’s Bristol? She said she was your secretary.”
“She’s not. She’s just a temp.”
“You’re full of shit.” Sin cracks the smile that made him famous on Instagram. “You’re telling me you dragged yourself half-dead to yourtemp’sapartment in the middle of the goddamn night?”
“No. I got a ride. And then I dragged myself up three flights of stairs.”
“What cab driver picked you up looking like that?”
“Wasn’t a cab. Some guy from the warehouse. I didn’t get his name.”
Didn’t need it. There was something familiar about him. He had guys willing to follow him out to sea, unless I hallucinated the parts about the ship and crew. Either way, he took care of his people. Even me, and I was nobody.
“But you got in a car with him?”
“Yeah, Sin, and I’m here to tell the tale. Stop pretending to care. You’re not my mother.”
He blinks, his eyes sliding away from mine. Iaman asshole. Sin is objectively better than Mom. She never came back. She died instead, without another word to any of us.
“It’s dangerous to get into cars with strangers,” Sin intones. “Now tell me about Bristol.”
I groan, shutting my eyes. “She’s a temp at Summit for another four days. That’s it.”
“How long have you been in love with her?”
“I’m not in love with her,” I snap. “I don’t care about her at all.”
“Ooookay.” I open my eyes again to find Sin with his hands folded behind his head, a smug grin on his Instagram-star face. “Emerson fell in love first. Now you.”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
“Then why’d you go to her place?” Sin’s eyes twinkle. “Why did you put up such a fuss about leaving?”
“I don’t know, prick. Probably the concussion.”
“Or true love.”
I roll my eyes, which makes my head throb. “If you think this is love, then you should be scared shitless.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the last brother left. That means you’re next.”
Sin scoffs, gently. “Love is for people like you and Emerson. Not for me. Ever.”
I stare at him, eyes wide. “Do you even hear yourself?Me and Emerson?Because we have so much in common.”
My brother shrugs. “You’re both gluttons for punishment.”
“Weird. I’ve never seen him at the warehouse.”
“Come on, Will. The concussion didn’t dothatmuch damage.”
“We’re nothing alike.”
