an affair with Arrow’s father. I knew my father hated Uriah Woodison. I knew he wouldn’t like the idea of me dating Arrow. But now that I understand why, I know he’ll never be okay with it.
“You’re not talking to me,” Brogan says, and I realize I haven’t answered his question. “Okay, I deserve that, but will you hear me out? Please?”
Nic narrows his gaze on Brogan, then looks to me. “What did he do?” He steps forward. “Did you hurt my sister? I told you I’d fucking ruin you if you hurt her.”
Brogan holds up his hands in surrender and shakes his head. “I was drunk. I saw the texts on your phone, but it’s okay. I can forgive you. I do. But I need you to forgive me. I’m an idiot and I was jealous and pissed and I thought he was stealing you away from me.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, can’t think about anything but the bomb Nic just dropped.
“Please,” Brogan says. “Talk to me.”
“What did he do, Mia?” Nic asks. He takes another step toward Brogan. “Want me to kick his ass?”
“Come at me,” Brogan says. “I fucked up, but I love your sister, and if you want to beat the shit out of me for that—”
“Stop,” I bite out. “I can’t deal with either of you right now.” I turn to Brogan. My sweet, sweet Brogan, and for the first time, what I did with Arrow last night crashes into me like a thousand shards of glass. How can I feel so guilty now when those moments with Arrow felt so right? So destined? “Go home, Brogan. You’re not making sense, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t have anything to say to you and I don’t have any interest in hearing your excuses.” Stopping, I take a breath and realize I do have one thing to say. “I hope Trish is worth it.”
“But—” he begins, but he stops when I hold up my hand.
I turn to Nic. “Take me home. Please.”
Nic’s jaw is hard and a muscle in his neck twitches. Oh yeah, he’d give anything to take a swing at Brogan right now. Nic’s a fighter. He’s never known how to navigate the world without his fists. But for me, he’ll tamp down that urge and let Brogan go unharmed.
“Get out of here,” Nic says.
Brogan shakes his head and tries again, more softly this time. “Let me drive you home, Mia. Please.”
“My sister told you to leave,” Nic growls.
With one last desperate look at me, Brogan nods and climbs into his car.
“You want to tell me what that was about?” my brother asks, as I climb into his rusty pickup. I slip into the passenger side and buckle my seatbelt, and Nic gets in and says, “So?”
“No, Nicholas. I don’t want to talk about it. Just take me home.”
That muscle twitches in his neck, and his dark knuckles go white around the steering wheel, but he finally starts the car, and we head toward my apartment in silence.
“I’m sorry you had to find out that way. About Mom. She should have been the one to tell you.”
I wince and drop my gaze to my hands folded in my lap. I’m still processing. “Do you think she loved him?”
“Woodison?” Nic barks out a sardonic laugh. “Sure she did. He had her fooled. But you can guaran-damn-tee that he didn’t love her. She was his maid at that oversized house of his. Keeping the place clean while his wife was dying. Nothing but an easy piece of ass to him. When Dad found out and started throwing around threats, Woodison didn’t do shit to make it right.”
Outside my window, hawks scavenge the Dumpster behind my apartment, and I stare at them while my mind flips and flops these mismatched puzzle pieces and tries to find a story that makes any sense to me at all.
“She was so beautiful,” I whisper. “When I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up and look just like her. She made me believe . . .”
When I don’t finish my thought, Nic reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I know, sis. Me too.”
“Don’t hurt Brogan. He’s just . . .” I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “He’s trying so hard to be who he thinks he’s supposed to be that sometimes he makes stupid mistakes.” I hate myself for how much that explanation undercuts Brogan’s betrayal. Then again, he’s not the only guilty party on