Page 132 of Ruin
I give Kaison the middle finger, then head upstairs to take a shower, refusing to give in to the disappointment I feel over knowing he’s gone. I did this.
No, fuck that.Hedid this.
Helied to me. He fucking lied to meagain.
When I get out of the shower, I throw on fresh clothes and pull the door open. Kaison is standing there and it startles me.
“What the fuck do you want? There’s another bathroom downstairs.”
“We need to talk.”
“No.” I go to squeeze by him, but he steps in front of me, stopping me.
“We need to talk,” he repeats, this time more sternly. It’s a deep voice that reminds me too much of our father, and my stomach sours. I think of raising my fist to knock him out, but my body is frozen in fear.
Fuck him so fucking hard for what he did to me.
I close my eyes and take a slow breath. Kaison isn’t doing this on purpose; he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
“Kolton,” Kaison says, this time in a much softer tone. I blink a few times, and he comes into view. “You okay?”
I wipe at my eyes, feeling tears and hating it.
“I’m fine,” I say, clearing my throat.
He’s staring at me like he doesn’t believe me, which he shouldn’t. I’m not okay. Not even close.
“Let’s talk.” His voice is the softest it’s been yet, and it causes emotion to swirl in my chest. There’s something about a soft, calm voice that makes me feel safe. So much like Lucian’s.
I can trust my brother. I don’t have to keep my distance from him. He’s family. He’s a good man. I know he is. He didn’t know what was going on when we were younger, and if he did, he wouldn’t have stood for it. I’m certain of that. My brother is not a dick.
It’s okay to trust him.
It’s okay.
“Okay,” I say. “But I need a drink.”
He huffs a laugh. “Fine by me.”
We head downstairs, and I don’t see Cora anywhere, and since Kaison doesn’t seem concerned over it, I assume she went to bed. She’s been sleeping a lot, I hear.
Kaison goes to the kitchen, pulls a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and heads toward the front door. I follow after him, not bothering to argue. It’s a nice day, and I haven’t used the porch swing ever. Not sure why I bought it at all, honestly.
Kaison takes the wicker chair, so I sit on the swing across from it, hoping it won’t give out beneath my weight. It creaks, but nothing snaps. I find my brother watching me with a weird look. He shakes his head and offers me the bottle as I get comfortable. I take a mouthful and pass it to him, then whip the cap out into the yard.
“So it’s going to be one of those nights,” he says.
Night is hardly here, but it will be soon. It was supposed to be a good day. The meeting went decently at the club. I left early to spend the day with Lucian. Now, here I am, fighting with him again.
“You wanted to talk.”
“Because you need to.”
“No oneneedsto talk, Kaison.”
“It’ll make you feel better.”
“What the fuck are you? Some kind of therapist?”
