Helen.
Just as I allow myself the thought, she identifies me with the same shock.
“You’re the Frenchman.”
Gin bottle empty, I release it, and it cracks somewhere on the pavement. It’s full contents necessary to keep me subdued to the point that adrenaline is the only thing keeping me standing. I lean against the hood of my Jag as Dom’s headlights appear before they pull into the parking lot. Lowering my gaze, inhaling a drag off my cigarette, I wait until the car doors close and their boots appear in my line of sight.
“Before you say a fucking word, let me tell you how I want to hear this.” I can’t bring myself to look at either one of them yet, and I can feel fear and tension coiling away from them, which brings me mild relief.
This was never an intentional move to overthrow my position or take my place. After my run-in with Cecelia and the overwhelming urge that accompanied it, I had to drink myself to denial, especially after hearing her pleas for them.
But the truth is, there’s no relief.
Because it wasn’t just her devotion for them that shattered me, it was the fact it existed at all. They have the love of a beautiful woman, a woman who would risk it all for them. The same devotion I thought they had for me. And they’ve wronged her just as fucking badly. Tarnished her by passing her back and forth like the bottle I just emptied while putting her in danger. And in doing so, they ruined something sacred to me. As I unscrewed the cap to the bottle just an hour earlier, I had to admit to myself that she was the face of innocence I’ve been protecting.
“I want you both to tell me exactly when you decided to betray me and destroy my trust—both of you. Then I want you to tell me the details of how you did it, one by one. But first, I want to know how long you’ve been doing it.”
I look up to my brother first, his eyes flashing with rare fear. “Three months.”
I nod and nearly stumble when I take a step forward but manage to keep myself upright.
Three months.
Three.
The number of times I locked the door to make sure you were safe.
I can’t help my smile at the irony. “It’s always been my number.”
“Tob—”
“Three brothers I trusted here, which gave three chances for one of them to come clean. Three months.” I swallow and tear my eyes away from Dom to peer at Sean. He looks just as mortified as Dom, and it brings me no comfort.
“Well, allow me to inform you both right now, your sentence is three fucking times as much. Nine months. Let’s add another for good measure.”
“Tob—”
I glare at them both, and it buys me silence. “Say another goddamned word, one more fucking word. I end it all! All of it. I still have the power to do so, though you both obviously regard me as fucking useless. I’ll dissolve the whole fucking club in a matter of days. I’ll move to France permanently and live my fucking life. Because it seems, all I’ve been living for here is a lie.”
“We never meant—”
“Was that three words?” I ask, staring between them. “Or am I hearing things?” I run a hand through my hair, swallowing several times, my voice raw when I speak. “No exceptions. These are the rules. This is the time. Accept it and serve it, or you’re both out, and that’s me being generous. Take it or leave it.”
“Where?” The question comes from Dominic, and I can hear the remorse in his voice. It’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough.
“Where, you ask, dear brother? Where else? The place that made me. You’ve always wanted to go to France. Here’s your chance.”
He kicks back against the hood of his car, his face crestfallen. “Where will you be?”