Page 95 of Ruin
I frown. Fuck. He’s right.
“This is better than making out,” he says as he walks to his truck.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I want to say,That’s because you’ve never made out with Lucian.
I’m not sure anything is better than that. The sex, I guess. But it isn’t my thoughts that are alarming, it’s the need to speak to my brother. Normally, I want nothing to do with him or anyone else. Lucian has me in a good mood lately, and that’s scary for a whole other reason.
Kaison walks toward me with two red cans in his hands. Gas cans.
I raise a brow as my gaze goes to his.
“We’re burning the place down.”
“What?” I blurt.
“You heard me. Now move your bike further back, so I can get the rest of the cans from the truck.”
I stare at him, blinking as he puts down the cans he has and goes back to his truck.
“You’re serious?” I call out.
He grabs two more cans from the bed.
“As a fucking heart attack, brother.”
I smirk as I go to my bike to move it as far as I can. When I get back, Kaison has ten five-gallon cans lined up.
“Have at it,” he says with a smirk.
“You’re not helping?”
“Thought you’d wanna do this.”
I pick up two cans. “I thought we were bonding?” I say over my shoulder as I head toward the house.
His chuckle echoes through the empty space. The front door is slightly open, so I kick it to open it the rest of the way. I walk deeper in, noting there are still some things in here.
“There’s nothing in here you want?” I ask.
“We took everything we needed,” Kaison says, putting two cans down in the foyer.
“Where will you stay?”
“At the new house.”
“It’s done already?” I ask.
“Enough that we’ll manage. Besides, it’ll look suspicious if it burns down when my house is finished.”
“Good point.”
I go right upstairs and stop outside my old bedroom. It wasn’t too long ago that I was here, remembering. Stuck in the past. Kaison had been shot, and I was here for a short time to make sure he didn’t die. Before that, I’d stopped by now and then when necessary, but never spent time here. I couldn’t. It was too fucking much—too many awful memories. Not only of my father, but the ones with Lucian that made me angry in a different way. This house is full of disappointment and hurt.
With a heavy sigh, I put one can down by the wall and head into the room. There are still some things here, but nothing I care about. I took everything I wanted when I left. If I haven’t missed them yet, I don’t need them.
I go right for the bed, dumping the entire contents of the can all over it. So many things happened on this bed. Disgusting things. Lucian never made up for it by making them disappear with good ones. We made out on it a couple of times, but it was too dangerous to have him in my room.
But this isn’t about him. This is about the shit with my father. This is about ending all of that, letting go of it, and moving on. Maybe my problem hasn’t been Lucian. Maybe it’s been the shit with my dad, and once I let that go, I can focus on Lucian and me and the future.
