Page 77 of Lost Kingdom

He considers for a beat, taking a bite of his apple and mulling over his thoughts while he chews. “I guess I haven’t put a lot of thought into it. I don’t have a twin, and my brothers and I were often in pain when we were children.”

“But you said yourself, more often than not, any one of you would accept a beating over watching one of the others take one.”

“So? No one takes pleasure in watching someone they care about piss blood for a week.”

“Have you not considered the possibility that you preferred the physical pain over the spiritual ache of knowing one of your brothers was hurting?” I snag a pan from a lower cupboard and set it on the stove, lighting the flame beneath and spraying cooking oil to make sure our eggs don’t stick. “Archer ran a cop-killer case recently; you risked your entire life and relative anonymity in this city by approaching a suspect. Because you’d rather hurt yourself than risk him being in pain.”

“He’s my little brother. That’s got nothing to do with cosmic whatevers, and everything to do with the fact I’ll torch the entire fucking city to save him. You’d do the same for your family.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I mean…” I crack an egg into the pan. Then a second, third, fourth, and keep going until I use up the six he had. “I’m protective of my family, of course. And I would fight for their safety. But sometimes there’s a lesson they have to learn. Stepping in and taking that lesson for them only delays what was meant to be all along.”

“So your motto is: ‘Fuck them. They’ll figure it out on their own’?”

I snag the half-finished loaf of bread from the fridge and toss slices into the toaster. “More like, ‘if a lesson is meant to be learned, but is not received, the punishment grows larger until the universe has said what she needs to say.’ It’s like a sliding scale, ranging from stubbed toe to permanent disability. Or worse. If someone is meant to learn to slow down, via a stubbed toe, but I force them into a pair of shoes to protect their feet, the lesson will come later, but worse. A car accident, perhaps. A speeding train, even.”

“So you let themhypotheticallystub their toes even if you could save them from the pain?”

“Yes. Every single time.”

“And Duane?”

“Is the baby of the family,” I sigh. “He’s been shielded by seven older siblings and a pair of whacky parents who refused to let him go barefoot,ever. If he was at risk of being kicked off the football team because he was slacking off, or because his grades were slipping, Eli or Liam always stepped in and talked to the coach. If he was set to fail an assignment because he was too lazy to put in the work, Katie or I would stay up late and do it for him. He didn’t even ask. We justdid. No one ever let him fail, because it hurts to watch someone we love struggle. But our actions were wrong, and the real punishment is still to come. Duane deserves a chance to learn, and we’ve constantly and obnoxiously stolen those lessons right out from underneath him. We’re long past stubbed toes, and cruising in speeding car territory now.”

“So you willingly let him ride in the car tonight? Despite the very real risk he’s gonna crash?”

“Iwantto go out there and make this better, but I know it’s not fair to do so. I should have stopped babying him years ago. If I had, he probably wouldn’t be in the situation he’s in now.”

“Nathan Booth’s people are looking for him, Aubree! Butthisis the day you decide not to give him shoes?”

“I can’t.” I draw a deep breath until my chest expands and my lungs ache. Then I release it again and stir the eggs until they scramble. “You have to know that much about me, right? I’m fiercely protective of the people I love. But love isn’t always enough, and robbing a kid of valuable insight into the real world serves no one except me and my ego. Would you stop Cato from making a small mistake, if you knew it would save him from something way bigger?”

“Cato has already learned his lessons.” He takes another bite of his apple and angry-chews so the sound almost beats out the sizzle of eggs in the pan. “You don’t live with Timothy the Second for seventeen years and come out the other side naïve to the world. Whatever he does with his life now, it comes on the back of all the shit he went through in New York. However, I thinkyou’rebeing naïve.” He swallows and holds my eyes when I glance across, his stare beating a drum in the base of my stomach. “It’s no secret you come from a place of pretty flowers and giant rainbows. The shit you went through, and the shit we went through, are not the same. So when you think leaving Duane out there tonight to learn a lesson is all part of some greater plan, I worry tomorrow, when we get word back that your baby brother is in the hospital, or dead, you might regret how fucking nonchalant you are tonight.”

“You won’t even consider the possibility you could be wrong.” I shake my head and bring my focus back to the eggs, while on my right, the toastpops. “Flowers and rainbows?” I set the spatula down and head back to the fridge for butter. “You think so little of me?”

“I think the whole fucking world of you.” He takes another bite of apple, only to set the leftovers on the counter and lower to his feet. He stalks up behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach and resting his chin on my shoulder. “I love that you don’t know the things I know. I intend to keep it that way. Innocence is not something to be ashamed of, and believing the best of everyone is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I didn’t say I was embarrassed.”

He leans to the left and studies the side of my face. “My point being, you’re allowed to be naïve, Aubree Grace. Because I’m not, and where you have blind spots, I’ll have your back. I’m gonna smooth the way for the rest of your life, so your naiveté is completely fucking okay. But your brother isn’t safe tonight, and you’re making me choose between the woman you are right now, and the woman you become in the future, whose heart is shattered because her baby brother has been fed to a fucking wood-chipper.”

I roll my eyes and go back to stirring the eggs and breaking the clumps apart. “Like I said, you refuse to accept there may be a third outcome. And you insist on calling me naïve. Yet I’ve known all week I was married to a mafia boss’ heir, just as I’ve known my little brother is flirting with trouble.”

He reaches over and kills the flame beneath our eggs, then he spins me and pins my body to the edge of the counter. “You knew? Because of the scuff on his jaw? You think that’s as bad as this is gonna get for him?”

“I’ve known for months that my brother has a gambling problem and a serious lack of card game skills. And I’ve wondered all along why he wasn’t learning his lesson.” I tilt my head and burn him with my stare. “Turns out you’ve been keeping secrets and stealing those lessons from him.”

“I was trying to do the right thing! I’m in love with a woman whose heart would break if she knew the shit he was into, so I pick him up and pat the dust off his shirt, and somehow, I’m the asshole?”

“Not an asshole. But certainly, a meddler.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders and step onto my toes. “You have choices to make tonight, and from where I’m standing, I consider the answer pretty damn clear. Stay here with me, or leave to rob my brother of a lesson he’s owed. But if you choose the second, don’t forget to swing by the courthouse on the way and have a judge sign our divorce papers.”

“We’re not getting a divorce.” He nibbles on my neck and grabs my hipstighter when I drop my head back to allow him more room. “It’s never happening.”

“I’ll file on my own.”

“Divorce requires both signatures, babe. You won’t get mine.”

“Funny, because marriage is supposed to require two signatures, also. But I have a friend named Cordoza, too, and I assure you, there isn’t a single cell in my body that doubts his loyalty sits squarely with me.”

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