Page 34 of The Carver

She finished off the rest of her wine before she joined me in the bedroom, still wearing my shirt as a blanket. It was the first time she’d brought a bag with her, so she washed her face and did her nighttime routine in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and using her skin care products. When she came to bed with no clothes, a clean face, and brushed hair, she was irresistible. When she did her makeup in a smoky look and wore a black dress, she was sexy as hell. And when she looked like this, she was sexy as hell too. It was like an outfit change, neither one better than the other.

Once she was in bed, she was all over me, clinging to me like I was the flames in the hearth. My shoulder became her favorite pillow, and she hugged me under the sheets, fingers resting where my ribs sat beneath the skin and muscle.

I lay there for a while and stared at the ceiling, the question she’d asked coming back to me. It was easy to forget most things, to move forward in life and never look back. But some events stuck with you forever—like a scar.

Chapter 5

Bastien

Eighteen Years Ago

Winter had struck the City of Light, and snow covered the sidewalk and streets. I looked out the front window into the night, seeing the gleam of the snow on the opposite sidewalk. It was so cold I could see the frost in the corners.

“What are you looking at?”

I heard my brother’s voice from behind me but didn’t turn to look at him. “Snow.”

“Snow.” It was a single word, but it was packed with incredulity. “You’re staring at the window so hard, I assumed there was a naked woman across the street.”

“Get down here.” Father’s voice came from the parlor downstairs.

“See you later, perv.”

I turned to look at Godric, but I only saw his back as he stepped out of the room.

Father’s voice called again. “Both of you.”

I heard Godric’s steps halt on the landing instead of hurrying down the stairs. It took him a moment to continue and head to the first floor, where our father waited.

I made my move a moment later, unsure what my father wanted from us at this time of night. As I drew closer, I heard Godric and my father speaking from the parlor.

“Why does he have to come?” Godric asked in a quiet voice.

“Because he’s your brother—and my son.”

“But he doesn’t belong here.”

“Godric.”

I stilled on the stairs and gripped the banister, feeling ostracized in my own home. Godric and Father had always been close. I just assumed it was because Godric was older than me, the eldest son. But sometimes I wondered if it was more than that.

“You don’t need him when you have me,” Godric continued. “He’s not cut out for this.”

My brother and I used to be close when we were younger, but a couple years ago, everything changed. My best friend disappeared overnight, and he kept me at arm’s length. He struck me down with insults. Every time I asked what the hell I’d done to incite this hatred, he never gave an answer. Eventually, I stopped asking and accepted this was the way it would be. My father prepared him to take over the business, and I stayed home with our mother.

My father left the parlor and approached the stairs. “Bastien, get your ass down here—” He stopped when he spotted me at the bottom of the stairs, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation.

I didn’t pretend otherwise, and he didn’t seem to care either way.

His eyes were glazed over like usual, like he was thinking about something else besides the two of us. “Grab your coat and your gloves.”

“Where are we going?”

“I gave you an order. Now, follow it.” He returned to the parlor where Godric remained.

I went to the coatrack and grabbed my things. I put on my heavy boots and then pulled the beanie over my head because I wasn’t sure if we would be outside in the cold.

Father and Godric walked to the front of the house where the main door was, their voices growing distant.

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