Page 82 of King of Depravity

My blood runs cold. “The truth?”

“Is that what changed you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rush asks.

My tongue is stuck in my mouth, but Ryker just shrugs. “Have you ever wondered why you, Triston, and Gris all have this polished look while Killian and I appear far rougher?”

His comment throws me. It’s not that I haven’t thought the same, but it has nothing to do with how I came into the world and my feelings about my father.

“What are you talking about, Ryker?” Gris growls out.

Ryker lets out a long slow breath. “I’ve kept this information to myself out of respect to our mother, but we’re all grown men, and I know the secret hurts Killian.”

“Secret?” my voice is barely a raspy whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Our mother had an affair. You can see how it might happen. Being married to a selfish prick who was hardly ever with us. But Killian and I…we are the result.”

Bile churns in my stomach. “You mean to tell me that you—me—we…have the same biological father?”

“That’s right.” He gives our other three brothers an apologetic wince. “The love of our mother’s life.”

Light explodes behind my eyes. “But?—”

Ryker moves to stand right in front of me, his hand coming to my shoulder. “Killian? What’s the matter? I thought…”

“He told me…” I can barely push out the words, my chest is too tight, my head swimming. “He told me…”

“Who told you? Told you what?” Triston moves to my other side.

“Our father. Your father. He told me that I was the product of a vicious attack. That I was born out of filth…”

Ryker’s teeth snap together, a feral noise coming from his throat. “Tell me everything.”

For the first time in twenty years, I do. I tell them about that night, about what he told me, and about how I’ve believed since that day that I was made of violence and darkness. Telling them, ridding myself of the words, it lightens me in ways I’ve never imagined. Sharing with Chloe first really helped. It loosened my tongue, shaped the words.

When I’m done, I see the stunned faces of all four of my brothers. “Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” Ryker spits. “He was always a selfish, vindicative asshole, but that…”

“Killian,” Gris comes to my other side, Rush just on Ryker’s shoulder so my brothers are ringing me. “How have you even fucking survived that?”

“No more killing,” Triston murmurs. “We’re changing your job.”

I appreciate what he says. And I know that changes are coming. I welcome them, truthfully. I’m ready to step out of the shadows and be a more visible member of our team.

And the support of all my brothers today has removed a heavy shroud that’s been over my shoulders.

But I am who I am now. And if any man touches Chloe, he will feel my wrath.

Triston must sense my shift in thought, it’s like he hears me mention Chloe in my private thoughts, because he steps away, grabbing the canvas that he’d set down when I’d began to speak.

Turning it to face me, I see Chloe’s painting for the first time. “I rescued this from your loft.”

But I don’t answer.

Instead, I stare. It’s me, but a me I’ve never seen before. I’m so strong, and…beautiful. Made of empty space, of dark sky, but filled with beautiful stars. My throat closes as I reach my hands for the painting, touching the places where bullets have ripped the canvas.

“I can’t believe…”

“She loves you, man.” Triston gives my arm a light punch. “And she thinks you’re a beautiful person.”

---