Page 49 of Searching for Valor

“Iambeing nice. I asked how he was, didn’t I?”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide her smile. “Yes, you did. And I appreciate that, but are you ever going to forgive him for Tectra-X?”

No, he thought but said, “I’m working on it.” To his mind, that device had been worse even than Izzy’s betrayal, and if he couldn’t forgive her, he sure as fuck wasn’t going to forgive Pierce.

But he knew Rhiannon loved Pierce, so he was trying to be civil with the man. For her sake.

“He’s trying too, you know,” Rhiannon said. “To make amends for all the destruction his work caused. He feels terrible about what happened.”

Rylan grunted noncommittally. He didn’t want to talk about Pierce or Tectra-X or Izzy or any of it. He just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts and his bourbon-laced coffee. He reached for his mug again, desperate for the numbing effects of the bourbon, but Rhiannon’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Ry,” she said softly, “Pierce told me what happened yesterday.”

He shook off her arm and grabbed the mug, draining the cold dregs, wishing he had more. “Annnd the other shoe drops. I knew it was coming.”

She ignore the biting sarcasm. “I’m sorry they ambushed you like that. They’re just worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

Her head tilted slightly and her eyes—so much like his own—softened. “You’re not fine. Mom said you haven’t called to check on her in over a month. She’s halfway through chemo, if you’re wondering. She started losing her hair, so Dad shaved his head in solidarity.” She pulled out her phone and showed him a photo on the screen.

Rylan’s chest tightened at the sight of his parents’ smiling faces. Their bald heads gleamed in the sunlight. His mother’s eyes were tired, but her smile was radiant as she leaned against his father’s chest. The love between them was palpable, even through a photograph.

He looked away, shame burning in his gut. He hadn’t called. Hadn’t even thought to ask how she was doing. What kind of son was he?

“Do they know I…” He couldn’t finish the thought.

“No. I didn’t want to stress them out. They’ve got enough to worry about right now.” Rhiannon smiled sadly at the picture before darkening the screen and sliding the phone back into her pocket. “Besides, you should be the one to tell them.”

“I’m not telling them.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Because you’re pushing everyone who cares about you away.”

“I wouldn’t have to push if everyone just stayed away from me.” The words came out sharper than he intended, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Youshould stay away. I don’t need you meddling in my life.”

“I’m your younger sister. It’s my job to meddle,” she reminded gently. “Especially when you’re sabotaging yourself like this.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered again because it was all he could think to say.

“Rylan. You’re not.” She pulled her chair closer. “Talk to me. Please.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve got it under control.”

She touched his shoulder, and he froze. “Ending up in the hospital, getting your stomach pumped, isn’t in control. Checking yourself out against medical advice and coming home to pick up right where you left off isn’t in control. You’re spiraling.”

He shrugged off her hand and turned to face her, his anger bubbling to the surface. Anger was good. It was easier than guilt or shame. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I do. I know exactly what this looks like because I’ve seen it before. When you came home from that last deployment, I watched you disappear into yourself. Then when we finally got you back, I watched you destroy yourself with alcohol and drugs. And I can’t—” Her voice broke, and she took a shaky breath. “I can’t watch you go through that again.”

Her words cut deeper than he wanted to admit. He clenched his fist and his prosthetic mimicked the movement, the metal fingers also curling into a fist at his other side. It still surprised him when it did that, when it functioned like a real arm. It wasn’t real, though. It was a hunk of metal and wires and circuits thatwould never truly replace what he’d lost. A constant reminder than he would never be whole again.

And that pissed him off.

He grabbed hold of the anger and fanned it because it was safer than the ache clawing at his chest. “I’m not that guy anymore.”

“Aren’t you?” Tears swam in her eyes. “Because it feels like I’m sitting next to the same brother who told me to leave him alone when I found him living on the streets in LA.”

“I’m not using.” At least that much was true.

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