nothing.” It’s always meant absolutely nothing but itch scratching and availability.
“I know that.” He watches me, eyes filled with unresolved grief staring back at me. Trusting, waiting, needing an explanation for something I know will hurt him. “So, tell me if I’m reaching. Is it her?”
I don’t even know how to say it or where to start. Do I tell my brother that our father wasn’t there when Aiden was taking his last breath because he was balls deep into his latest whore—who he’s surprisingly been with for the past two years? Or do I tell him that our asshole of a father asked that same woman to marry him on the day of Aiden’s funeral?
“The girl who broke your heart,” I say instead, lying through my teeth.
“What?” Liam jumps back as if he’s just been electrocuted by my car.
“I said the owner of the car is the girl who broke your heart. You know, the queen bitch from Clintwood who told you off the first day of freshman year?”
“I didn’t get my heart broken by some girl!” he vehemently denies but we both know that’s not true.
Once upon a time, my brother believed in crap like ‘one true love’. He believed he could find ‘the one’ and fall in love with her until kingdom come. Of course, we gave him smack and hell about it, but I won’t ever forget the way he came back home that day—after vowing to make a name for himself at Clintwood Academy, away from me. His eyes were red and swollen, his shirt torn and he told Dad that he wanted to go to St. Jude High instead.
When asked why, he could only say it was because of Devil’s Princess. Naturally, I’ve tried to find out who the damn girl is, but I haven’t been successful with that. But by God if it’s Mia…
“You said the devil’s princess broke your heart,” I start, smirking. “Those plates said what? Princess. It was her car. You should be proud about that.”
“Fuck you,” he grits out. “That wasn’t her car. And stop trying to hide shit from me.”
“So, I’m right. There is a her.”
“J.”
“Liam.”
“Drop it.”
“After you.”
Silence stretches between us for a second, then he pushes off the car, and shuts the passenger door.
“You do know secrets always find a way to come out right?” he questions as I switch gears to reverse out of the lot and head home. Those words twist my chest up, an echo of the same words being uttered by the girl who’s about to destroy my life, again, by hurting the last brother I have.
“Don’t they always?”
“Remember that, J.”
I won’t ever forget. But at the same time, I know that I need to handle this with care, knowing damn well that our parents’ divorce hit Liam harder than anyone else. I don’t think him finding out about John’s love affair while Aiden was dying would do him any good either.
“You’re still not racing Matthews, Liam,” I call out as I drive away. “Get over it!”
8
Arriving home, I pull up into the driveway only to find two white trucks parked around the fountain, the back doors open with workers dressed in white coveralls going in and out of the house, carrying some type of equipment inside.
Getting out of the car, I take off my shades and walk over to the front door, watching two guys working on the front steps, building a ramp—something that my father refused to do once Aiden had to use a wheelchair to move around. Well not for the front steps. He did it for the other entrances, because to him, that was fitting for Aiden.
“What the hell?” I mutter, watching them work as my blood starts simmering in my veins.
“Julian, son.”
I tense up the moment I hear his low baritone voice. Everything about the man who calls himself my father has me feeling the need to punch him then go out and destroy everything he loves. If I didn’t know that doing so would hurt Liam one way or another, I would have done it by now.
“What’s going on?” I demand, going up the stairs to the front door of the large mansion, noticing that John has casual clothes on. “Did you go the office today?”
“Nope, I was working from home today,” he answers, watching me with caution.
“Let me guess,” I start, looking around at the workers moving about. “You’re redecorating the house?”
“Well, the house does need renovating but not right now.”
“What’s going on then?” I look