Celeste’s comments came back to him. “My relationship with Derrick isn’t what you think. It’s complicated.”
“Yep.” His arrogance was really getting on Roarke’s nerves. “But it didn’t make any difference to you. You saw something you wanted, and you took it. Roarke Hawthorne always gets whatever he wants.”
He bristled at the words. “It always comes back to our father. You can’t let it go.”
Derrick took two steps forward. “You wouldn’t either if you had been the one rejected.”
“I didn’t have a choice, Derrick!” Roarke snarled. “None of us did. It’s not like I told him not to have anything to do with you. I was a toddler, like you. But you know what, I’m done. For fifteen years I’ve tried to create a relationship between us, be a brother to you, but you’d rather hate me and wallow in self-pity. I’ve had it up to here.” He brought his hand up to his forehead. “You want to hate me, hate me. Obviously, nothing I do will change your mind.”
“Damn straight.”
Roarke chuckled. “You have serious issues. The crazy thing is, you had a father, and still do. Maybe he’s not the one you wanted, and you don’t have the same DNA, but anybody can see how much Phineas loves you. Anybody but you. Somehow you even managed to mess up that relationship and convince yourself your stepfather only adopted you because your mother made him do it.” With a shake of his head, Roarke continued. “That sits right up there with hating me because our father chose to stay with my mother. And while we’re at it, do I get to hate you because your mother stole my father from my mother? Do I get to hate you because our parents’ affair eventually caused me to lose my own mother? How exactly does this hate thing work? I’m new at it.”
“This isn’t funny!”
“I never said it was, but I’m tired of putting up with your nonsense. I’m tired of tiptoeing around your feelings. If I’d known fifteen years ago your anger and bitterness would still be so strong, I wouldn’t have told the family to contact you.” He started down the stairs.
“What? What do you mean you told the family to contact me?” Derrick had moved to the head of the staircase, his face a mask of confusion.
“Exactly what I said. I was the one who told Aunt Iris and Uncle Reese to find you. You’d lost two parents, like us. I thought, as family, we could help each other through a difficult time.”
Silence.
Finally, Derrick said, “No one ever told me.”
“It doesn’t matter whose idea it was. You’ve been so busy hating me you can’t see how much we care about you. We don’t care about the private plane and the models you always bring around, obviously trying to impress us. We want you in our lives because you’re family. You always held back—except with Cassidy.”
“It was the pigtails,” Derrick said softly. “The first time I met her she was eight years old. She wore pigtails and was so freaking bubbly. She’s been under my skin ever since.”
“Yeah, that’s Cassidy.”
Roarke watched emotions flit across Derrick’s face. He didn’t have time to decipher them or reminisce. He needed to find Celeste, and since he didn’t know if Derrick had thawed enough to share her whereabouts with him, he took off.
Outside on the lawn, he paused. Chances are, she would be at the airport. But which one? Did Derrick take her to the airfield where they’d flown in on the private plane, or was she at the Brunswick Golden Isles Airport, to take a commercial flight?
“Roarke.” Derrick stood on the porch with one hand shoved into his pocket. “I took her to the Golden Isles Airport.” He glanced down at his Rolex. “If you hurry, you can catch her before she boards the eleven-forty-nine flight to Atlanta.” Roarke nodded his thanks and whipped around toward the car. “And Roarke, tell her I’m sorry. I said some things to her I shouldn’t have.”