Page 8 of Midnight Whispers

Never wanting to talk about that, I instead dare to ask him, “What’s your plan for Rapsody?”

He takes a hit and passes the joint back to me. “No plan.”

I scoff, take a drag, then toss it on the grass and crush it with the heel of my boot. “Bullshit, brother. You always have a plan.”

“Whatever.” He picks up the bottle of whiskey and takes a swig.

“I don’t know if it’s a special forces thing or if it’s just you, but you always have a plan. So what is it?”

He’s quiet for a minute, but eventually he answers. “I don’t know what went down with you and Maude, but if I had to guess, I’d say you might have some idea now how I felt four years ago when Rapsody up and left me.”

My jaw clenches, and I put out my hand for him to pass me the bottle.

“So you do have a plan.” I tip back the bottle.

“Of course I do.”

I chuckle and take another swig.

“I’m going to make her fall for me again. Make her think all is forgiven and that I’m the same man she met back in Atlanta. Show her how wonderful our life together could be. Ruin her, in all the ways that count, and leave her the same way she did me.”

I pass the bottle back to him, and he sets it in the grass.

“You think you can do that without falling for her?” I ask.

“Of course I can.” He glares at me.

He’s lying to himself. “She’s the only woman I’ve ever seen you give a shit about. More than that—you were going to marry her, Kol. You’ve never even bothered to really date anyone before her. You fuck them for a bit and then move on, never even talk about the women with any of us.”

“We can’t all be Prince Charming, kid.” He ruffles my hair like he used to when we were younger. It pisses me off now just as much as it did then.

“Fuck off.” I shove his hand away. “And nice try distracting me, but it’s not gonna work.”

“I made the mistake of falling for her once. I won’t do it again.” His voice is hard.

I shake my head and fall back in the grass. “For the record, I think your plan is shit.”

“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion.”

I stare at the sky as the sun slips behind a cloud, and my high kicks in, keeping my thoughts and my limbs nice and fuzzy feeling. Neither of us speaks for a time until the words I often wonder about press against my lips, pushing themselves out.

“Do you think we’re cursed?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

I prop myself up on my elbows. “This family. This manor. Do you think it’s cursed, and that’s why we’ve gone through all the shit we have, or do you think it’s karma for all the bad shit or something?”

Kol pulls at a blade of grass. “Most people would say we’re lucky to have been born into a billionaire’s family.”

I give him a cutting look. “They obviously didn’t know our father.”

Mentioning him brings back the stark reminder of what went down the day he died all those years ago. From the look on Kol’s face, I’m guessing it’s the same for him.

“I think some people are just evil, and we happened to be the sons of one of those people. But then we had Mom, and she was… she was everything.” He reaches for the whiskey and slugs back another mouthful. “Maybe karma is what balances the scales. We had Mom, and we were born into money, so it gave us Dad. I dunno.” He passes me the bottle, and I sit up to drink some, then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

Internally, I chuckle. If only dear old dad could see me now. I’d have a black eye from being so improper as to wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Bastard.

“What happened that day?—”

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