Obsessed (The Protectors #13) - Sloane Kennedy Page 0,76

I don't know, but that's neither here nor there. We have a bigger problem now."

Cruz pulled in a couple of breaths. Elliot had taken his hand and that seemed to have calmed Cruz considerably.

"What problem?" he asked.

"Bishop," Matias said as he rubbed his jaw.

Cruz let out a harsh laugh. "God, Bishop again? Matias, he's gone. He's not hunting you. Or me. If anything, he’s staying as far away from us as he can. It would be insanity for him to come here—"

"Cruz, as your future father-in-law, I need you to do something for me."

My words got Cruz's attention. As badly as I wanted to know if the young man had proposed to my son, I knew it was irrelevant at the moment. Even if he hadn't, it was just a matter of time. With that knowledge in mind, I said, "I need you to listen to your brother. Really listen." I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder as I said the next part. "Listen to the things he's not saying."

Cruz was silent for a moment and then he finally nodded. I glanced at Elliot who also nodded in understanding. He leaned in and kissed his boyfriend softly and then whispered something in his ear that I couldn't hear. I took the opportunity to focus on Matias. "If you want to protect him, do it by telling him the truth." I found myself reaching out to squeeze Matias’s fingers. I kept the contact brief, though all I really wanted to do was lean in and close my arms around the man.

I waited for Elliot to join me and then led him to Ryan's room. I had no doubt that my oldest son had a million questions and that my youngest son was probably confused as hell by all the yelling that had been going on, but despite all that, all I really wanted to do was return to Matias’s side so he’d have someone to hold on to.

So much for faking it.

Chapter 23

Matias

For the first time in a long time, it wasn't a matter of not wanting to talk to my brother, it was a matter of not knowing what to say. I didn't do feelings or emotions. I dealt in truths and silence. But as I stood before Cruz and took in the disappointment that was clearly written across every feature, I knew that silence wasn't an option.

Which left the truth.

"I thought he was just an obsession. I thought if I could get past the physical attraction, I could move on," I said.

"And did it even register with you what your obsession could do to my relationship with Elliot?" Cruz asked.

"Yes," I acknowledged.

Cruz nodded. "So it registered, but you just didn't care?"

"Did you care when pursuing something with Elliot jeopardized your job?"

"I'm not your job, Matias! I'm your brother!"

He was right. I knew that and I knew nothing I said would justify what I’d done. As terrible as that was, I still couldn't find it in myself to regret it. My silence was the same as if I'd made the admission out loud. Cruz shook his head in disbelief and then turned his back on me. In that moment, I felt fear like I'd never known in my entire life. Not even the night I'd almost lost Cruz forever.

This was the same thing, but it was also different. I knew Cruz was walking away from me for good this time. It was a battle I didn't know how to fight.

"He made things easier," I found myself whispering. I'd dropped my eyes, so I sensed rather than saw Cruz hesitate. My throat felt tight and I was sure that my heart was beating a million miles an hour. "When I'm around him, I feel like I can finally take a deep breath."

"And you don't feel that way around anyone else?" Cruz asked softly.

I shook my head. "The only time I don't feel like him is when I'm with Sam."

I didn't have to explain who “him” was. Cruz knew. Our father had dominated our world long after we’d escaped the man.

"Are you in love with him, Matias?"

I let out a rough laugh. "You're assuming I know what the fuck love is."

Cruz sighed and then he was moving even closer to me. "Tell me about Bishop."

"He's not right in the head. I knew that the minute I met him. But I fucked him anyway. Afterwards, he was so easygoing about the whole thing, about understanding that it’d been a one-time thing, that