Page 41 of The Lies We Told Ourselves

Dex: Then what’s wrong, big bear?

Me: I’m at the parents’ house.

Xander: Why?

Me: Someone needs to get the info on Gage.

Dex: And you volunteered as tribute? Shit, Booker, you should have let me come with you.

It should help that they knew why I didn’t want to do this and fully supported me not being around those people.

Except it didn’t.

Someone had to do it, and I wasn’t about to let Trace or Xander walk into that place. Not when they were finally free.

That was why I’d driven my ass here this morning. I was the black sheep child that they didn’t want around. Yes, I’d be subject to the worst of our mother’s criticism, but she wouldn’t try to suck me back into her plans. I was the last person on earth she wanted in them.

Trace and Xander couldn’t say the same.

I’d failed Gage. I hadn’t been there when he needed me. Hell, I hadn’t even known he needed me. And, as a consequence, he’d fled in the middle of the night, leaving only a brief note, and I’d never seen my brother again.

I wouldn’t fail my other brothers.

Me: It needs doing, and it might as well be me.

Dex: Do you think they’ll actually give it to you?

Me: I’m not leaving without it.

Trace: I’m leaving now. Wait for me.

Me: No fucking way, brother. I’ll be done by the time you get here anyway.

Damn it.

I shoved my cell into my pocket and climbed out of the car. I wouldn’t let Trace ride in here thinking he was acting the hero and getting sucked back into this bullshit.

At least I’d gotten my motivation to get this done.

I wasn’t surprised when the door swung open as I approached. They’d have known the minute I drove through the gates that I was here.

That it was my father standing in the doorway and not Emmie, the housekeeper, was a surprise, though.

“I need to speak with you,” I said, avoiding any of the usual formalities.

He was so used to how I felt about this place that he didn’t even flinch anymore. Only my mother would have had some kind of cutting remark about how I’d lost my manners in the gutter or some other such bullshit. Jasper was used to my disdain by now.

The brief flash of sadness that crossed his eyes was new, though. Not that I’d let it suck me in. It was probably just his latest manipulation tactic. The only surprising thing about it was that he’d try to waste it on me.

“We can talk in the study,” he offered, holding out a hand to point the way as if I’d have forgotten.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked through the ostentatious hallway to the oak-lined study my father had always closed himself inside when we were kids. There was a time when I’d thought he didn’t know what our mother did to us. That he was so busy it had completely passed him by.

Now that I was an adult, I saw the truth of it, though. Of course, he’d known. He just liked to pretend that he didn’t.

I came to a stop in the middle of the room. There was no way I was sitting down and drawing this out any longer than it needed to be.

“I’m here for the details on Gage,” I told him. “I know you kept track of him.”

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