Page 20 of Love Thy Brother
Embry nodded, stretching his legs out away from the table. “He won’t be back until the weekend, if you were hoping he’d distract me from getting all up in your business.”
“I wasn’t.”
“No? You wanna tell me what the fuck you andNashwere fighting about then?”
“Cam didn’t tell you?”
“He didn’t get a chance. All I know is it kicked off and I had to get Liliana somewhere else.”
“She okay?”
“She didn’t see anything. Neither did I. Probably why I’m having a hard time believing it.”
I gave him a super brief rundown.
Embry took it all in without comment, thinking before he spoke, which I appreciated. I let him stew on it while my mind wandered to River. I pictured him how I did most often, when I was knee-deep in denial that he’d spent most of the last year hating my guts.
He had hair as dark as Cam’s and as messy as mine, twisted in a knot at the nape of his neck, gold hoops and huggies in each ear sparkling in the sun. Eyes like a bittersweet-chocolate lagoon.
“Nash’ll come round,” Embry said eventually.
“I don’t want him to come round. I want him to punch me in the face a few more times.”
“He’s never going to do that.”
I knew it. But I felt like I needed it. Was I spending too much time with Alexei? He’d told me once that pain was therapy to him when shit got rough.Cleansing.I’d called him a sick bastard, but his masochistic take on self-care didn’t seem so alien now.
“You’re thinking too hard.” Embry squeezed my arm. “And probably about the wrong things.”
“How d’ya know that?”
“I’m trying to put myself in your shoes.”
“How can you do that when you don’t know what I’m thinking?”
“I can’t.” Embry tugged a packet of mints from his pocket and offered it to me, sliding one out with his thumb. “Doesn’t stop me trying, though. And I’m sorry I didn’t see that you were so messed up after you got hit until it was too late. Maybe if I had, some of this pain...”
He didn’t mean the receding throb in my skull, and I appreciated his words. But it wasn’t Embry’s job to keep my dick in my jeans. Head injury or not, that was on me. “Easy, father. Let me hog all the guilt, okay?”
“What about River? He must’ve known something wasn’t right back then, even if he didn’t know why.”
“River has a head injury too. He doesn’t always think and react like the rest of us.”
Embry frowned, confusion lining his face. “What do you mean?”
I stretched my spine. Regretted it as my ribs throbbed with a new burn. “You missed that chapter of O’Brian history?”
“River doesn’t come up in conversation much. Is there something I should know to understand this better?”
“Understand him better, maybe. It’s not an excuse for how bastardy he is to you, though. He does that shit on purpose.”
Embry smirked. “I know.” Then his smile faded. “Tell me something I don’t.”
I let my mind drift back in time. Way,wayback to a life too early even for Nash. “Riv came off his bike when he was ten—as in,bicycle, not a hog. Wasn’t a mark on him, but he was out cold for three days, and when he came round, he wasn’t the same kid.”
“In what way?”
“He was patient before. Almost like Liliana, you know? Happy. Calm. Shit just rolled off his shoulders like goddamn water. Then, after the crash, that patience was gone, and he’s been a live grenade ever since. No offence, but he’s more like you now, except he doesn’t have a fraction of your self-control.”
