Page 117 of Things We Burn

Brax had already been pale, but his eyes widened, and his skin sallowed even further. His beady eyes darted side to side as he contemplated running. There was nowhere to run to; we were far off any main roads, any houses. Knox chose this location, and Knox had done his research, controlling every single variable.

Brax wasn’t a dumb fuck; therefore, he knew running was futile. And though I’d never shared anything about Knox with him, he was also smart enough to recognize a predator when he saw one.

“I didn’t take him up on it because I didn’t want your life to be on anyone’s conscience.”

I didn’t look at my brother. I knew he would’ve been shooting me an expression that I’d be able to read without words. My brother didn’t believe he had a conscience. A soul. He thought he’d sold both a long time ago.

I thought differently. But I’d given up on convincing him of that.

“In addition to that, you’re not worth the effort it would take to dig your grave,” I added.

“Have to agree to disagree with you on that one, brother,” Knox stated in a flat tone. His expression was blank, soulless. Even though I knew my brother was much more than the sum of his parts, much more than what the underworld and our past had turned him into, that look sent shivers down my spine.

I didn’t let that show, though, focusing my gaze on Brax, my fists clenched as the devil on my shoulder urged me to change my decision, let Knox take care of him once and for all.

But I was going to have a daughter. I didn’t want to end a life. Not even Brax’s. I didn’t want that. I wanted to show my brother there were other ways to deal with things than violence and death.

“You stole from me,” I told Brax quietly. “Somethin’ more precious than anything I could ever own. You stole time from me, you stole moments I’ll never fuckin’ get back. I’m going to takeeverythingfrom you.”

He fabricated a note. I don’t know where he got it from. He was always making me write shit, sign it. And, the dumb fuck that I was, I’d done it all. I’d given him the dynamite to use to blow up my entire life.

I clenched and unclenched my fists. The dragon inside of me was clawing to get out, but I muzzled it.

“Everything,” I repeated. “I’ve made calls to ensure you won’t work for anyone in our industry ever again. You’ve beenblocked from all clubs, all parties, all those fuckin’ lists you were desperate to get on.”

I looked at my brother. “And I’ve had some help to ensure that all of your bank accounts are no longer bursting with money you’ve hoarded or embezzled. There’s enough there, to survive on.” I looked him up and down, sneering at his $1,000 loafers. “If you know how to survive without caviar and fuckin’ champagne.”

I shook my head. “I know how superficial you are, how fuckin’ shallow. I know all you care about is status and money. And with all that being gone, that’ll be worse than death. I sentence you to a life where you mean nothing to no one, and you’ve got no way of hiding what a piece of shit you are.” I paused, my eyes scanning his face. “On second thought…”

My fist plowed through his nose, savoring the satisfying crunch of it breaking. I reveled in the pain my knuckles felt from the contact with bone.

Brax fell onto the dirt, out cold.

“Thought you were taking the high road, no violence and all that,” Knox commented.

I shrugged. “What can I say? The low road feels good sometimes.”

Knox’s head bobbed up and down in a slow nod. “Yeah, it does.”

My brother’s voice sounded haunted, underneath that steel, emotionless tone he’d perfected. They were tattooed in there, those ghosts, those demons. Because of the road he’d taken. And fuck if I felt helpless to see it, my brother getting further and further away from me.

We walked toward our respective vehicles, leaving Brax unconscious in the dirt. Knox was going to drop him somewhere far away from Jupiter, inform him of what might happen to his balls if he thought about selling my location to the press.

“How’s Avery?” Knox asked.

I massaged my hand. The ache was dull, satisfying. I thought about the woman waiting at that cottage for me, with a dog, a fucking dog she’d said she’d never get, a dog that the most authoritative woman I’d ever met couldn’t control.

I thought of the ocean, that kitchen, the warmth of that house that already felt like a home.

“She’s good,” I replied. “She’s fuckin’ gorgeous pregnant.”

“Don’t doubt it,” Knox replied as we reached my bike. “You got a due date?”

I flexed my knuckles. “Don’t have all those details, yet. Things have been a bit … messy.”

“I can imagine,” he said, his normally impassive tone showing a hint of amusement. “You find that out, send me the details. The number you’ve got for me is clean now. If it isn’t, you’ll hear from me.”

He paused, looking at my face—really looking. Despite him being my brother, I felt a prickling at my spine under his gaze. I could recognize a predator too.

---