But the true reason was, if I so much as took another step toward her, I never would have gotten back in that car.
But I made the decision. I chose my brother and the club. I left her there without returning the sentiment or giving her anything she deserved after she did the impossible and forgave me.
Leaving those words unreturned is a regret I’ll carry until the day I die, even if I do get a chance at redemption. I never once truly deserved her love, trust, loyalty, or faithful heart.
Fuck my brother for denying me that moment, for being the very reason I’m ripped right down the fucking middle and have been for these long torturous fucking months. It’s been far too many days since I’ve laid eyes on her, heard her voice, her laugh, drank in the look in her eyes, touched her, fucked her, let myself love her.
Every mile between us ripped me apart as we sped toward the airport. Sean remained wordless the entire ride. It was only when we silently commiserated in wait for the plane that Sean again tried to console me, surety in both tone and delivery. “She’ll wait for us, Dom. She will.”
It was as our flight was about to board that it occurred to me that Tobias and Cecelia might have collided at Roman’s house. It’s when I voiced as much to Sean—realizing that I was still privy to the camera feed—that he perked up as I frantically searched the recorded storage of that day. Seconds later, my throat burned as we were granted a parting gift.
As our flight was called, Sean and I watched the soundless standoff play out from every angle at the pool. Mortified as Tobias hovered over her and tried to humiliate her by hiding her bikini top, which had us both fucking fuming.
It was after enduring a few tense minutes of his berating that she came back swinging with the same ferocity, hitting him with the lotion bottle in the back of the head as Sean and I shared a pride-filled expression and loud chuckle, both of us in fucking awe of her. Though we couldn’t hear a damned word of it, we didn’t really have to, the body language between them telling enough from what we caught. From the second they collided—our worst fear playing out before our eyes—we knew that conversation was damned. Hostile posturing took place on both ends, and the back and forth was intense before Cecelia finally snapped and engaged him with her real power—pleading with her heart to his retreating back. Sean’s eyes reddened as we both watched her while dragging our suitcases down the jetway, knowing that whatever she was saying was for us—while she hoped her heart-filled plea would somehow sink in.
After watching it again, Sean spoke up, red-rimmed eyes on mine. “Leave it to our girl to have us lusting after her one second, terrified the fucking next, and laughing before leaving us aching and in awe of her. We never had a chance, Dom.” His next words were jarring, part serious, part joke, as he glanced back at the screen with a love-soaked expression. “If she ever fucking forgives us, let’s fucking marry her.”
We watched the footage twice more before we were forced to power down the burner, both of us equally as fucked up. Guilted by the fight she gave for us—which we failed to give for her—we shared a long look before manning up to start serving our sentence. His words mimicking my thoughts as we sped down the runway. “She’s worth it.”
Never truer words spoken.
But where time used to blur for me, and days and dates passed without remembrance, the days and nights I spent with her appear with every beat in my chest, an engraved timestamp.
I swore I would try to forget her the minute Tobias looked at me the way he did the night he confronted us in the parking lot—face etched with devastation. It was as if he realized we weren’t worth it—that I wasn’t worth it.
It was the worst I’ve ever felt in my life, next to leaving her in that alley.
It was as if Sean and I had broken him, and in a way, I think we did.
All I wanted to do was make it right, fuck my heart, and the trouble it caused me. Fuck me for knowing what getting involved with her would do to him and falling anyway, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to regret it.
“I love you.”
My eyes pop open as though she’s whispered it directly into my ear. Those last cutting seconds paralyze me to a place, in that alley, thousands of miles away, to an unreachable point in time, where I exist—in purgatory.
“I want in. Please let me in.”
“You are in.”
“You’re in too deep, baby. Fuck,” I whisper as a flash of lightning fills the room, and sleeping forms light up around me.
Another rainy day. Without her.
Running my hand through my cropped hair, I move to sit at the edge of the bed—skin slicked with sweat due to the useless unit recycling moldy air in the corner. Clenching my fists, my heart jogs into panic mode at the idea that she’ll be leaving Triple Falls when the summer ends.
She’s twenty now, her future about to kick off, and if Roman kept his word, she’s a millionaire. Her world is still wide open, her options limitless, while mine feels like it’s starting to close in on me. As promised, I cut every communication with her.
We’ve been flying in the dark for the entirety of our time here, and the kicker? It’s voluntary.
If a case for a silver lining could be made, it’s that we’ve made good progress in our time here. I’ve met relatives who’ve enlightened me further about my parents—before they became parents. The stories are wild and, at times, unbelievable. About Delphine as well, who had a colorful past, too. I now know she omitted parts of it to spare me, but those details had me making peace with a lot, and I’ll make it a point to let her know that. Tobias and I had it breezy compared to her. To this day, I can’t believe she survived what she has—for that, she’s earned my respect.
Lightning flashes again, filling the room. A rumble of thunder follows as I crack my neck, muscles fatigued from my earlier struggle today. We successfully executed our last coup before our return to Triple Falls. One we’ve been planning for weeks. I had a close call, wrestling with a fucker twice my size, who spit putrid breath and French in my face before I managed to get my barrel to his chin and end his tirade permanently.
Sean and I both passed on the celebratory dinner and drinks offered, much to our chaperone’s dismay. While Sean sleeps above me, our designated babysitters—Julien and Albert—snore in their equally lumpy bunks on the other side of the room. All of my roommates are in an exhausted sleep that I’ve failed to follow.
Julien has been my biggest ally in my last six months here since we made our way from the southern coast of France to the outskirts of Paris—and, as of a week ago—moved to this dumpster hostel within the city. Even though our stint in France is voluntary, as the months passed, we seemed to go from remote areas to eventually graduating to a city. Maybe a tactic of Tobias’s to inform us wordlessly that we’re gradually earning his trust back.
In that respect, we’ve fucking earned it.
Credit where it’s due, Julien is the one who’s made this time for us most fruitful. Fresh out of his five-year stint in the French military, Julien was brought in, in consideration of getting inked by Ormand, one of Tobias’s French raven partners. Julien sparked my interest immediately with his calculated moves and the fact that I got little past him—not that I tried much. After doing a little digging by way of Albert—who, frankly, is too fucking slow on the uptake to cover Sean and me—I found Julien’s military training and impressive education made him a prime candidate and recruit for me and the purpose I armed myself with when I got to France.