He runs a hand through his dampening hair and nods. “Though we knew Florida was coming, I had no idea they were coming in hot like that. I didn’t have enough intel, and neither did Roman. So, I put out an all points to the brotherhood and fucking flew back from Charlotte scared out of my goddamn mind because you had gone off the rails when you discovered you were marked.”
The garage. The night I’d enabled them. I’d sabotaged my own safety with that stunt by slashing their tires and cutting off all communication with them. I’d thought about it long before now but didn’t realize the gravity of just how bad I fucked up by declaring war on the people determined to protect me.
“Everyone was searching for you, everyone. And Dominic and I met at your house. We only had a small crew with us because of the search and sent them to border the property. Dom kept you distracted in your bedroom while I watched Miami pull up ten cars deep. I put in a call to Sean to get everyone back here, but we were too late.”
“Andre and Matteo were already in the house,” I say.
Tobias swallows, sorrow etched in his eyes. “I’ve gone over it and over it, and the only conclusion I can draw was that they were in the garage. That’s the only place I didn’t check after driving Roman’s car home.”
“That’s why it was here.”
“I was trying to lure them in.” Sorrow filled eyes lift to mine. “I assured Roman his daughter was safe. We had millions in the bank, unlimited man-power, and still, we weren’t ready for a bunch of fucking thugs from Florida.”
It was my fault. I’d flattened all their tires in my tirade and then sent them on a wild goose chase to find me. It was my fault they were scattered out in the mountains that night looking for me, in an attempt to save me. I was the cause of the loss of those precious seconds needed to save Dominic.
“I’m so sorry,” I cry out hoarsely, and he shakes his head, grabbing my hand in his and rubbing a soothing thumb over the back of it.
“Sorry? About which part?” He asks, before dropping my hand. “About the fact that you were used on both sides as a bargaining chip between the men you loved and trusted? About the fact that you had no idea who you were giving your trust to, and that you could never have anticipated the chess moves being made all around you? About the fact Dominic lost his life because he was too fucking stubborn to think critically before he acted out as the hero?”
The ache in my chest grows unbearable as he shakes his head in anger.
“Hear me. Really hear me. I don’t blame you for Dominic’s death. I blame him. And I blame myself for putting all of this into motion. You’re right. I wanted my fucking way. I wanted your dad to suffer, and it cost me my brother—what was left of my family. The only one I will never fully be able to forgive is myself.”
“Tobias, you can’t live like that.”
“Those motherfuckers turned their back because of money. Money, of all things, Cecelia. And I’m the one who let them into our ranks because they were a necessary evil.”
“You aren’t responsible.”
He shakes his head. “We got too confident. Dominic got too heavy-handed with power. I got too wrapped up in the business end, in searching for my father, and…” He gives me a pointed look.
“In me.”
He moves to kneel in front of me.
“You know, you were right in a way. We were a bunch of kids who built a fort together, but we didn’t know how to use it. We weren’t ready.”
And there it is, all of it, the truth. The truth I’ve been begging for, the truth I’ve blindly been living alongside him. The truth that sets him free and liberates him from me.
And it’s crippling. This knowledge. He studies me for a solid minute as I take it all in.
“Thank you.” I reach for him, and he jerks away, stands, and looks down at me expectantly. He held up his end of the deal. Though he’s not saying it, I know he wants me to hold up mine.
“Is this really what you want? You want me to leave? You want me out of your life?”
“Did you hear a word I said?”
“Every single one.”
“Then you shouldn’t be fighting to stay. You should be running.”
“I would, except you left the best part out of your story.”
He draws his brows and shakes his head. “Don’t.”
“Us. That’s the best part. Our part.” I move toward him, and he steps out of reach. “Tell me what to say, what to do.”