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“Seemed like you shouldn’t have come back.”
He scoffs, tone light. “Wasn’t going to leave my brothers.”
But Sinclair did leave. He was the only one who had a chance to leave. Our mother took him with her. The only reason he came back to hell is because of us.
“Not until later, you mean.”
Sin nods, accepting what I’ve said. “Not until I thought we were doing okay. I’m not saying it was the right call.”
“It was.”
A beat. “I don’t know if I believe you, Will.”
“Can’t change anything now.”
It’s not true. Look at Emerson. He changed. He texted us in the middle of the night. Before, he’d have suffered until morning.
And he’s worried about having a baby with Daphne.
Why?
I’m the one who hasn’t changed. I’m a monster, just like our dad, otherwise I wouldn’t need to work so hard to prove otherwise. I wouldn’t need expensive suits and a designer for my apartment and all my rules at work. I would never have touched Bristol.
I should leave her alone. Leave her whole family alone. They’re in trouble, and that’s all I am—trouble.
It’s best for us if we stick to our outlets. Sinclair has BASE jumping. Emerson has art. And I have violence.
That’s all I’ll ever have.
Chapter Eighteen
Bristol
The alarm on my phone rings early, and I feel…
Great.
Rested.
Will’s mattress probably had something to do with it.
He sits up as soon as I do and runs his hands over his hair. Then he’s padding to the bathroom, leaving me behind. He re-emerges a few minutes later.
Add this to the list of things I know about Will Leblanc: the way he looks in sleep pants and a thin T-shirt. Broad shoulders. Full chest. Tight abs.
“When did you get back last night? I felt you, I think.” I can’t help smiling, but his smile is reserved. Businesslike. His eyes slip down over my body in the sheets, but they come up quickly.
Too quickly.
“Late.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Everything’s fine.”
Fine, but he doesn’t crawl back into bed with me. He doesn’t kiss me.
Something happened.
