Page 78 of Unlocked Dive
“He doesn’t need a doctor,” I interrupt. “And no one is pressing charges.”
Gabe arches a brow at me, a mocking mirror of the expression I’ve thrown a hundred times. But he doesn’t argue, sending the guard away with a reassuring smile and a rueful shake of his head. His anger is gone, replaced by a cruel satisfaction that slices into my skin like retribution.Like a surgical scalpel.
He couldn’t take my wings, but now he wants to take my anchor.
Like hell I’m giving him the satisfaction. Whatever past claim he had, Byrd is mine now, to punish and forgive.I’ve only just begun to coax him free.
“I know what you did to him.”
“WhatIdid tohim?” He feigns hurt, but his lips curl with sadistic mirth. “He was the one fucking me, little brother. And then he fucked my career over too.”
There’s a story here.Anotherone Byrd never told me. Or maybe it’s all the same story, and I know both of them well enough to guess the ending.
“Bullshit. If you’re talking about that big showcase you didn’t get in sophomore year, don’t forget I’ve seen you on the silks. And I’ve seen him on the rope. If he’s the one you whined about beating you out for that spot, it just means the judges knew what they were doing.” Tears burn behind my eyes, but I clench my fists against the ache and cling to my disdain.
“We all got into the same school, you know.” Gabe scowls. “Me, Byrd.You. Don’t try to pretend you deserve it more than I did because Dad’s been blowing smoke up your ass. Or that Byrd is some unrivaled god because you’ve discovered you like taking it as much as sticking it in.”
“Back to that shit?” I run my tongue over my own unbloodied lip and flip him off. “Get out of here, Gabe, or I’ll be the next one to lay you out. You wanna call the cops if I break your nose with my bionic hand and watch how fast our rich daddy bails me out?”
“Looks like it’s two rich daddies now.” He smirks. “Byrd always was a sucker for a pretty little asshole.”
Before I dissolve into pure, unhinged violence, my snarky mouth comes to my rescue.I can hit where it hurts, too,brother.
“Yep. Two men who love me more than they ever loved you.”Please, god, let it be true. “One is a lawyer who could probably get me off even if I put you in the hospital, and the other is waiting to take me back to our hotel so we can get each other off and forget you ever existed.”
Unfortunately, Gabe’s mouth comes from the same stock as mine.
“You sure about that last?” he asks, glancing at where Byrd is arguing quietly with the burly security guard, his fists shoved in his pockets, looking anywhere but at me.
“Yes,” I lie. “Byrd chose me.”
“He chose me first.”
It’s a knife in the ribs, but I got good at faking functional after the last time he wrecked me.
“And look where that got him. He’s spent his whole adult life afraid to reach for what he wants becauseyoutaught him he’s not worth it when he does. But he is worth it. He’s wortheverything, so you can fuck all the way off now and leave us the hell alone.” I keep my gaze steady and my trembling hands shoved in my pockets and pray he doesn’t call my bluff.
“Sure thing, baby brother. Have fun with my leftovers.” He pushes off the fence and finallysaunters away, leaving me alone in the ashes of my trust.
Byrd, now free of looming authority figures in uniform, watches him go and sighs when I step up beside him.
“I’m so sorry, Echo. I never wanted you to find out that way.”
It’s too many revelations for one day, and weary exhaustion laps at the frenetic tension keeping me afloat. I’ve barely had time to process the first betrayal, and now I’m caught in this tenuous space between sympathy and rage, the urge to lick his wounds warring with the need to inflict them.
“Can we go back to the hotel?” I ask. His gaze snaps to mine, surprise and relief written in the widening of his eyes and softening of his jaw.
What would he be like now if I’d found him first?
“Yes.” His hand hovers at my back as I lead him toward the nearest exit, but he never actually touches me, and I keep my own hands to myself.
For the first time since he found me in the rain at the Santa Rosa airport, I don’t obsessively ogle him while he drives. The streetlights are just starting to come on, winking bravely against the deepening shadows of the sunken streets.
“Have I ever actually been Echo to you? Or have I always only been Gabe’s little brother?” I think it comes out pretty casual, but the 4-Runner lurches as Byrd’s foot hits the brake a little too hard, and he lets out a heavy breath before easing out of the parking lot.
“Jesus, Echo. How can you ask me that?”
“Seems like a fair question.” There are a million more on the tip of my tongue, but I force myself to wait and pretend my patchwork soul doesn’t hang on his answer.
