Page 5 of Secrets Unveiled

If one older protective brother wasn’t enough, try having two. Except the second brother is not actually your brother at all. Suddenly, I feel as though my world has tilted on its axis, all because of an accident. That wasn’t intentional; he didn’t mean to kiss me. I repeat this over and over in my head, but somehow, it doesn’t make the tingles in my core subside. Great.

SAGE

What I hate most in this entire world is when my brother is right about a man I date. I know he’s a man, and who better to know a man’s behavior than a man? However, it’s still the most infuriating thing ever. I should have known Sebastian wouldn’t have made a reservation for dinner, but deep down, I wanted him to prove my brother and Saint wrong. Wishful thinking.

Instead of Raul’s Seafood, we’re at Olive Garden, of all places. Not that Olive Garden is bad, it’s just not the most romantic of places. I hesitated to inform my brother of the change of plans. I was too embarrassed and didn’t want to hear the “I told you so” that he and Saint would give me, but I reluctantly sent the text, letting him know where I would be. To my surprise, he just sent a text back with the thumbs-up emoji without the banter I was expecting. However, I know I will hear about this later, that’s for sure. If not from Saxon, then definitely from Saint.

Sebastian and I have been dating off and on for the last year. We have our high highs, but then we also have our low lows. Saxon tells me Sebastian doesn’t respect me as a woman. If there is one thing about Saxon, it is that he’s very big on respect. Give respect to receive respect. So, if you’re not giving respect, you damn well don’t deserve respect in return. Plus, I’m his little sister, and I will forever be his little sister, no matter how old we are. To be honest, he’s never been approving of any guy I’ve dated. Big brother role, I suppose.

There are a couple of reasons why Sebastian and I have been off and on for a while. The first one being his blatant disregard for my own feelings. He is what some would call “self-absorbed.” The second reason is he never has the time for me. We were spending more time apart than we were together. This last time, however, I caught him texting with another girl, and I swore to myself I was done with him, but here I am. Call me an idiot, but maybe it’s just called being lonely, and being with someone and being miserable is better than being alone and being miserable. Right? To be honest, I think my boredom with my lack of sex life is what brings me back. I’m not someone who sleeps around; I only sleep with people I date. Meaning, I’m constantly running back to Seb. Am I using him? Maybe. But he’s using me too, and, well, if we’re both getting what we want, it can’t be that bad. However, I am not okay with the idea of him sleeping with other women and me at the same time. That is a no go for me. I’ve told myself the next time he messes up, and he will mess up, I’m done for good. I have enough self-respect to know when I’m just being used to scratch an itch.

“So, what have you been up to today, Seb?” I ask from across the table. His face is buried deep in his phone as I wait for his response. He’s quiet for a long moment, clicking away at a text message. Finally, he sets his phone face down and answers my question.

“Nothing really. Worked with Dad showing properties and that’s really all.” Sebastian and his father run a real estate company together where they make great money selling high-rise luxury apartments in the city. That’s where he lives, Oakbury City, which is roughly thirty minutes from my home in Golden Heights. Since Saxon, and of course Saint, aren’t too fond of Seb, that means I’m usually the one to drive to the city to hangout. Surprisingly, he came to me today for my birthday dinner. It wasn’t the dinner I expected, but at least he’s here.

His phone dings again, indicating he has a new text message, and I internally groan. He’s quick to pick it up and begins typing away while smiling at his screen.

“Who’s that?” I ask, keeping my tone calm so I don’t imply that I suspect he’s talking to another girl. Let’s be honest though, once a cheater always a cheater. Shame on me for giving multiple chances. Seb ignores me, continuing to type away. My blood starts to boil, and I stand from my chair, grabbing my purse before turning my back to him. Before I can walk away, he grabs my hand, stopping me from leaving.

“I’m sorry, Sage. Here, phone is down. Let’s just enjoy our dinner together.” I give him a sarcastic laugh, but still, I give him another chance and sit back down. Without letting my hand go, we both take our seats again, and he pulls my hands closer to him. “If you must know, that is a new client looking to settle in the city, and I’ve been sending her new listings.” I roll my eyes at the mention of “her” but don’t want to continue fighting and sink deeper into my chair.

Rubbing my hands with his fingers, Seb looks down, examining my scars that cover the tops of my hands. I watch him as he traces his fingers over the thick, long ropes of the scar tissue and skin grafts they had to do at the hospital. I watch his eyes as he squints and tilts his head as if he’s deep in thought. My insecurities take over, and I pull my hands from his palms.

“Have you ever thought about getting those covered up? Like tattoos or plastic surgery or something that could conceal them?” If I wasn’t in a sour mood already, that comment alone sent me flying head first into a bit of fire, sparking my anger to its highest peak. My skin starts to feel hot as my anger stirs within my chest.

“Excuse me?” I say through gritted teeth, trying really hard not to let my voice crack. Out of all the insecurities I have, the scarring that covers both of my hands is by far the biggest. It’s at this moment, I know I will never be good enough for this man. I will never be the picture-perfect girlfriend he so badly wants me to be. He can’t just accept me for me. He constantly has to gaslight me into thinking everything he does wrong is because of something I did first. I know how he hates my scars; this isn’t the first comment he’s made about them. It’s this comment that has all of Sebastian’s red flags waving in my head at once.

“I just mean, maybe you’d be more confident if you got them covered. I know how much you hate them.”

“Or is it because you hate them and can’t stand being seen with me when they’re visible?!” I don’t hide my anger; I practically scream at him as I stand from my seat and lean over the table towards him. I should have just listened to Saxon and ditched this fucking pig a long time ago. Fuck, I hate when I’m wrong. I grab my purse and head towards the front of the restaurant. Sebastian’s voice trails off behind me. I don’t stop to hear what he has to say. I’ve known for a long time how much of an asshole Seb is; I just didn’t like the idea of being alone or unwanted. That’s on me. I will never lower my standards for someone else again.

“Wait, Sage. Wait, I didn’t mean—” Seb is behind me as he grovels in an apology he can’t get out. I turn my head over my shoulder to tell him to fuck off when I run into what feels like a wall, halting me in my tracks. A pair of strong hands grab my shoulders, steadying me before I turn to see Saint standing directly in front of me.

“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing here, witch stick? What’s wrong?” Of all the people that could have shown up tonight, it had to be Saint—just my luck.

“Sage, listen, I—” Seb stops whatever he was about to say when he realizes who’s now standing behind me. “What… what are you doing here?” Seb asks, his tone laced with disgust. I close my eyes as I take a deep breath.

“Looks to me like I showed up just in time. Sage, this date is over. Meet me in the car.” He releases my shoulders, and I fix myself before answering him.

“Saint, I’m fine. I can—” He cuts me off. “I said, meet me in the car.” I don’t argue because, really, how was I going to get home anyway? Seb drove me here. I just sigh, giving Seb one last look of disgust before I turn on my heel and exit the restaurant.

SAINT

If we weren’t in a public place, I would grab this piece of shit by the throat and watch as his oxygen supply slowly depletes while his life drains from his body. However, since we are at a restaurant, a very packed restaurant, at the moment, I will wait to teach him a proper lesson. I step up to Sebastian, his short stature making it easy for me to tower over him and invade his personal space.

“If you for one second think she will be calling you in the future, you are sadly mistaken. Don’t call her, don’t text her, forget she even exists. She is nothing to you. You don’t deserve to breathe the air she breathes, you lowlife piece of shit,” I whisper down at him. His eyes narrow into slits as his own anger starts to show.

“Or what? What are you going to do, Saint, huh? You think you’re all high and mighty because you’re a part of her family’s club? Well, I’ll have you know—” I cut him off by grabbing his throat, fear instantly flashing over his face. The members of the restaurant are now becoming visibly frightened by the tension rising in the waiting area.

“Or I’ll show you just how well I can make you disappear.” Sebastian has always been jealous of the club and even went so far as to buy a motorcycle, which he can’t even ride, in hopes of becoming part of the club. I push him away, releasing his throat so he can suck in a proper breath.

“For that little comment, I’d be counting my blessings if I were you. I’ll be seeing you soon, Sebastian. You have my word.” I leave him standing in the waiting area, looking like a lost puppy who’s been scolded by its owner as I push through the doors and walk towards my Tahoe. Yes, I have a tracker on Sage’s phone, which is the only reason I was able to hear Sebastian’s comment about her scars. It’s for her own safety. Saxon is busy ninety-nine percent of the time, and I’m sure he would appreciate me keeping an eye on his little sister. When I heard his comment, I saw red. The nerve of that man, or rather that fuck boy, for thinking that was an appropriate question to ask. I wanted his head on a plate.

Reaching my Tahoe, I look through the windshield and see Sage is already settled in the passenger seat, a scowl of anger etched across her face. Swinging the driver’s side door open, I step into the vehicle, then slam the door behind me.

“I don’t need to be saved, Saint. I can handle myself against that arrogant prick,” she says to me, flipping down the visor to fix her mascara that’s running down her cheek. She’s been crying, but she’ll never let her vulnerability slip like that in front of me. I buckle myself in and crank the ignition.

“I know you don’t,” I retort and pull out of the parking lot and onto the main road towards her house. She slams the visor shut, and I can feel her eyes burrowing into the side of my face.

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