Page 119 of The Lies We Steal

Those were my brothers. Family that was chosen. Who woke up and chose to be a part of my life every day.

“Is Dorian,” She stumbles, “Is he going to be alright?”

I sigh, “Yeah, Silas just hit some muscle in his shoulder. He’ll need a blood transfusion and some fluids but he’ll be alright.”

She nods, accepting my answer and I see that the relief of him being alive makes her feel relief. Even though he almost killed her, she still didn’t want anyone dying because of her.

If I wanted her. If I really wanted her, I’d have to make sure she knew me. More than just what I wanted the world to see.

“He’s got hemophilia.”

“What?”

“Dorian. He was born with a rare condition called hemophilia, it’s just where his blood doesn’t clot as fast as regular people’s does. When he was seven, he was at a lacrosse practice and took a hit to the ribs, no big deal for most kids, but he ended up in the hospital with severe internal bleeding.”

I remember hearing my parents talk about it. I remember hearing it for the first time and thinking, I hate that my brother is sick. That I wish I could fix him.

“That’s when they found out and my grandfather, Alaric, refused to allow the Caldwell name to rest on the shoulders of a sick boy. What if he died? What if he couldn’t handle all the assets he was set to inherit? At the very least, he told my parents they needed to have a backup in case something happened.”

I fucking hated talking about this. I hated thinking about how devastated I had been as a kid when I found out why I was born. I hated how no one cared after I was told. How it was just something I was supposed to live with.

“Alistair—” She mutters, sadness in her voice.

“So my parents basically made me in a petri dish. Genetically modifying my genes so that I was the exact blood type, so that I was initially a replica of my older brother. So that if something did happen, I could give him blood, donate an organ. I was only born to be spare parts. The heir and the spare, that’s what my grandfather called us.” My voice felt like it gave out towards the end, like all the gas in my tank was finally gone. I was now running on empty.

I make myself look at her, look her in the eyes, “I’ve been wanting to kill myself since I found out. I didn’t want to live a life where I was only meant to be a backup. Extra. Only important if an organ was needed. No one deserves to live like that. And then I met the guys and—”

“They gave you a reason to live.” She finishes, taking the words I didn’t want to say out of my mouth. Knowing that me admitting out loud that I need someone isn’t easy.

“Yeah. They did.”

Her hand reaches forward, pushing my hair out of my face, running her fingers through my dark locks.

“I’m glad you met them. I’m glad you’re alive, Alistair.”

Something happened inside of me in that moment.

All these dark clouds herded over me and it began to pour rain. Rain that fell hard and fast over the inside of my chest, wetting an organ that I thought had shriveled up and died.

My heart was a desert. Deserted, dry, without nurture or care. Nothing but sand and blistering heat. And it had just started raining for the first time in my life. The beating no longer felt painful, but smooth, the way it was always meant to beat.

“When I first saw you at that party,” I pause, not sure how to explain what I’m feeling, “You made me feel alive. You excited me. You electrified me in a way no one had before.”

The way she stood in the middle of that dance floor, surrounded by people, smoke falling in front of her face and the flashing lights only giving me pieces of her face. Even through all that, I could still see her clearly.

Her hands rub circles into my chest coaxing the words from my throat, “And tonight, when I saw you in that chair all I could think about was the last things I’d said to you. How I let my past dictate how I felt about you. I’ve never been so fucking—” I tightened my hold, “scared and I hated it. I don’t ever want to feel like that again. I refuse to feel that way again.”

And I meant that. I was never going to feel that again. I wouldn’t let her be put in that position.

“We can’t predict the future, Alistair. And it’s okay to be afraid of that. Being scared doesn’t make you weak, letting it stop you does.”

I thought about that.

How she was the definition of that statement. Even though I’d put her through hell mentally. I’d scared her, she never stopped fighting me. Never let it stop her from moving forward.

“I will tear through the sky, rip heavens gates apart if that’s what it takes to prevent you from being at risk again. They will have to raise hell to stop me from protecting you. You understand?”

She nods, looking up at me, eyes coated with exhaustion. I pull her closer to my body, curling my arms around her so that her head is resting on my chest.

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