Page 117 of The Lies We Steal

Instead there was Alistair falling to his knees in front of the chair, hands inching towards my face.

“Briar, Briar, Briar.”

Briar

Briar

Briar

It felt so real, my name on his lips, echoing in my head as the gag on my mouth was pulled away and the ties wrapping me to the chair fell off. I felt his hands, hotter than coals, press into my cheeks directing my attention towards his gaze.

The world started moving normally once again. I had breached the surface, just in time to hear guttural groans of pain and the shuffling of feet.

“You’re okay,” He whispered, “You’re gonna be okay, Little Thief.”

As if I was a feather, he scooped me up into his arms, cradling me to his chest. My nose seeking out the comforting smell of his cologne and burying my head into his neck as he carried me. Chasing that scent.

My vision was spotty, but I could see on the ground behind the chair I’d just been sitting in, laid Dorian. On his side, eyes wide open, clutching his shoulder where blood was staining his white button down. So much blood it didn’t look real. Seeping between his fingers as he rocked on the floor in pain.

Just before my eyes closed, I saw them.

Three shadows moved across the living room, dressed in black and as always, the children of the dark came to protect their own.

Alistair

The shower had shut off twenty minutes ago.

I wanted to give her time. Allow her to absorb everything, let the dust settle, and I knew once she came out, the adrenaline would have wiped her to the point of exhaustion.

Staying in the guest house at Thatcher’s meant she would have a bedroom to herself without any of the awkward, where am I sleeping conversations occurring. Even though I knew she needed space, I refused to let her sleep at the dorms tonight.

Just for tonight I wanted her under the same roof as me. I needed to make sure for tonight at least, she was safe.

Creaking of the bathroom door made my knee quit bouncing, long enough to follow the trail of her long legs, steam poured out from behind her. The shirt and boxers I’d given her to wear were a few sizes too big and they swallowed her body.

A goddess. An angel. All the good left in a wicked world.

Gently grabbing her wet hair and pulling it to the side, giving me a clearer view of the bruise on her eye.

I hated myself more then.

That I had been the reason a girl who represented all the things I’d ever wanted was hurting. A girl who had everything I needed and I was too afraid to accept. Because just as Dorian said, I didn’t deserve anything.

That’s all I’ve been taught. So how would I have believed for even a second that Briar and I could have been something?

Looking at the bright purple wound and scratch on her face threw me below rock bottom. I didn’t question that I’d been more worried about that bruise, than about my brother bleeding on the floor.

Even though there had been a solitary moment tonight when I was looking at Dorian that I saw myself. A son who’d been raised to be something he never wanted to be.

He was the other extreme.

Raised with the pressure of being the successor, having to be perfect, never allowed to fail because if he did they would replace him. I knew what pressure like that felt like for a young kid and it had done just as much damage to him, that it had done to me.

And for that moment, I hated him a little less because for the very first time, I related to him.

My head aches with repercussions I knew I’d be dealing with come tomorrow. Answering questions from our parents, listening to what story they would spin to cover all this up.

But for right now, I would let the guys handle Dorian’s hospital journey, and I would deal with everything else in the morning. Right now, I wanted to make sure she was okay.

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