Page 48 of Our Broken Pieces
Gage had stayed true to his word and had left me a goddamn mess this morning. I had battle wounds every damn place and I had to wear a long sleeve blouse, slacks, and a scarf to hide it all. I also ached like a sonofabitch, every movement uncomfortable and sore.
However, I knew Alaric would know something was up if I were to sleep in my work attire, so I had to bite the bullet. When I had walked out of the room in a simple t-shirt and sweats, his eyes had widened and, not going to lie, he looked slightly sick.
He had given me a onceover, and with evident struggle, he ignored my appearance and prattled on about what he was cooking me for dinner. I gave him space and let cooking distract him as I wondered if I was going to lose my brother over this.
“Grab the plates,” he instructed. “Chicken Alfredo a ’la Alaric Anderson is finished.”
I chuckled and got up from the barstool to set out the plates and utensils. “Is that a copyright?”
“I think you mean trademark,” he teased. “And I’m thinking about it.”
We silently set up dinner and it wasn’t until we were sitting comfortably next to each other eating that he finally broke. “Wanna tell me about it?”
“Gage Evans,” was all I said.
Alaric angled his body, so he could face me. “Wait? What?” he asked, incredulous. “Like…you’ve met someonelikehim or are we talk abouttheGage Evans?”
I kept my face staring down at the plate of pasta. I wasn’t exactly embarrassed as I was wary. I could also admit I was scared. I didn’t want to lose my brother and asking him to accept something that was going on versus something that had ended once upon a time was tricky. He was mybrother, and I knew he took the role seriously.
“The second one,” I mumbled, my mouth full of food and bad manners.
He turned back around and started eating in silence. I knew he was absorbing the news and trying to tamp down his initial reaction to what was best for me. I appreciated it, but it didn’t suck any less knowing that he was struggling with the news.
“How?” he finally asked.
“He’s best friends and business associates with my boss, Mr. Cavanaugh,” I told him. “Mr. Cavanaugh assigned me to a joint venture with Gage’s company and that’s how we…uh, reconnected.”
“Reconnected…” he mumbled, deep in thought.
“He came over last night, demanding answers, and…uh, one thing led to another,” I admitted, embarrassed as hell. It wasn’t even that the sex was twisted. Talking to my brother about me having sex with a guy,at all, was embarrassing as hell. He didn’t want to know that shit about me any more than I wanted to hear details about him.
He turned to face me again. “Demanding answers?”
I nodded, and finally faced him back. “He wanted to know why I left him ten years ago,” I explained.
Alaric got a strange look on his face and his eyes narrowed a bit. “Are you telling me that, after ten years, he came after you foranswers?He still cared, ten years later?”
I nodded. “Yeah. He was really pissed.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth,” I admitted. “I told him everything. I also pointed out how he had given up on me after only two weeks, and that is what kicked off…uh, everything else.”
Alaric let out a dark laugh. “Yeah. Regret is a motherfucker. So is hindsight.”
I could feel my eyes start to water because this was where this conversation counted with my brother. “I’m not going to lie to you, Alaric. I still love him,” I confessed. “I’m fairly certain I never stopped.”
His eyes searched mine and I thanked God that all I saw was concern and not disgust. “Are you sure it’s not the sex talking, Mys? I mean…I…I know you…” Alaric let out a deep, uncomfortable breath. “I know you like…uh, different things.”
I shook my head, dinner forgotten. “I can see how you would think I could be blinded by what Gage does for me, but it’s not that. I was lost the second he walked into the conference room at work, Alaric. Whatever bond that Gage and I had as teenagers was still there-isstill there.”
“I can’t lie to you, Mys, and tell you this doesn’t worry me,” he told me honestly. “You’re my sister, and I worry about you.” He took my hands in his. “Even without…the sex part, you’re love for this guy is…extremely intense. What if it doesn’t work out again? I saw what it did to you last time, Mystic. I just don’t want to see you go through something like that again.”
“You don’t think I’ve thought about that, Al?”
“Look, I support you, no matter what,” he said. “I might not like it, and I might not understand it, but Idoandwillsupport you.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Will I ever call him up and invite him to Thanksgiving? Probably not. Seeing bruises on you, whether consensual or not, is a hard limit for me, Mystic. But I will be happy for you ifyou’rehappy.”
The tears fell because I knew this was hard for him. His natural instinct was to defend me, and he was still struggling with understanding that I didn’t need defending on this. The bite marks and bruises usually represented unhappiness, not satisfaction.
