Page 71 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

“I’ve always cared,” he snaps back. “I’ve been keeping tabs—on you, on Emma, on this place. Just because I wasn’t here doesn’t mean I didn’t give a damn.”

Despite my earlier resolve to let him back in, the questions I’ve had for so many years come rushing out. “Then where the hell were you when things began falling apart? When I realized the crippling debt and bad business decisions dad left me?”

He’s silent for a moment, as if contemplating his words. “I couldn’t stay,” he says finally, his voice low. “Not after mom died…”

The memory of that day comes flooding back. It’s as gut-wrenching now as it was then. “They said it was suicide.”

Ryan’s response is swift. “I don’t care what they said. Mom would never have left us. Never. He killed her. I know he did.”

“And your answer to that was to leave us with a man you thought was a murderer?”

“He would never have touched you. The sheriff didn’t buy suicide as the cause of death, either. If I hadn’t left, I’d have killed my father. Maybe not that day, but some day. So, I joined the Navy and found some positive ways to channel my rage and need for control.”

He’s not the only one with a need for control. We just found different outlets. For him, it was the Navy, and for me it was shibari. But that’s a conversation for another time. Right now, I need to know what he’s planning. “How did you know about what’s going on here?”

“I have my ways, Bren. The fact is, Sapphire Development is Candace Prescott, and destroying my home is just a part of her master plan.”

If he knew all of that, why didn’t he warn us before now? Thanks, brother.“You mean your ex is responsible for this?You’re responsible for this?”

“Well, I wouldn’t quite put it that way.”

“I sure as hell would. Do you think I’m an idiot and don’t know how dangerous she is to the vineyard?” Candace made that perfectly clear the day she rolled up to the front door and threatened our entire family.

“You don’t,” he says, his voice cold as ice. “Not like I do. She’s vindictive, Brennen. Calculating. She doesn’t just want the vineyard. She wants to bury our entire family—every single one of us—and if you let your pride get in the way, she’ll succeed.”

And he thinks I don’t know that?I glare at him, but remain silent before I say something I’ll regret.

“I’m not here to take over,” he continues. “I’m here to help. Whether you want me to or not. The vineyard belongs to you,me, and Emma. If push comes to shove, Emma and I can force you.”

“Arrogant bastard.”

“Undoubtedly, but we’re a lot stronger if it’s all three of us. Mom always said as long as we had each other…”

He’s right about that.But I’m not giving him the satisfaction. “You think she would have approved of what you did? What you didn’t do?”

“Not a chance. She’d have made the Navy give me up, write an apology letter to her, and dragged my sorry ass back here, but she wouldn’t have been thrilled with you, either. In fact, the only one she wouldn’t be pissed at is Emma.”

Another thing he’s right about.If I weren’t so angry at him right now, I’d have a laugh at the thought of our mother bringing high ranking naval officers to their knees.

Ryan doesn’t let up, continuing to push my buttons. “You really think you can handle this on your own? You’re drowning, Brennen. The vineyard’s falling apart, Candace is circling like a shark, and you’re just standing there, bleeding and waiting for her to take the first bite.”

I’m on the verge of snapping, my temper amping up to a boil as I step closer to my brother. “I don’t need your help.”

Ryan doesn’t back down, continuing to bait me. “Sure, you don’t. You didn’t need help when Dad ran the business into the ground. Didn’t need help when Candace set her sights on this place and you didn’t see it coming. Face it, Brennen, you’re in over your head.”

“Shut up, Ryan,” I growl.

“Or what?” He leans in further. “You’ll throw a punch? Go ahead. It might be the first decisive move you’ve made in years.”

That does it.My arm shoots out, my fist aiming for his face.

Ryan ducks. “Too slow,” he says with a smirk, taunting me.

“You arrogant son of a—” I keep swinging and he keeps ducking. I’m no match for my brother who was trained by the military’s best. Hell, hewasthe military’s best. That’s why it surprises the shit out of me when I actually land a punch, hitting him square in the jaw.

“Feel better now?”

As soon as I realize he let me get that hit in, my emotions run the gamut—from shock to anger and then resignation to the fact that as much as I hate to admit it, I do need my brother.

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