He leans on the shovel like a crutch, his entire body shaking. “I fucked up, okay?” He lets go of the handle and scrubs his hands over his head, his eyes stark with anguish. “She tried to tell me for years, but I didn’t listen. I was just so…angry with her. About the school thing and her relationship with Dad. Then here she is, living in this huge mansion…”
I don’t think he’s talking for my benefit, and I don’t give a shit what his justifications are. I just need to know if he’s going to be a continuing threat to Ivory.
Rising from the bench, I grab the shovel and dig. “So Lorenzo’s call gave you the idea to take from her. With his robbery experience, you jumped on the opportunity to steal some of her happiness for yourself.”
He drops his arms to his sides and stares at the house, his voice a croaked whisper. “Yeah.”
I settle the cat in the hole, swallow a knot of sadness, and return the dirt. “I should be burying you instead of Schubert.”
A frown contorts his face, his ignorant eyes backlit with conviction. “I promise I won’t cause her any more trouble. Fuck, I’ll spend the rest of my fucking life staying the hell out of hers. It’s the only thing I can offer her.”
I’ll have a PI on my payroll for the rest of her life to make sure of it. “It’s time to deal with the other thing.”
“Yeah.” He lifts his chin, gazing out toward the darkening sky over the eastern horizon. “I know a place.”
The moment I wake, my muscles tighten in memory of the day’s events. A dim lamp glows in the gloom of the bedroom, casting shadows over my brother’s dour expression where he slouches in a chair beside the bed. It’s disturbing to see him in this house, in a place that’s always represented safety, happiness, and love. But I’m not scared. Emeric would kill him before allowing him to be alone with me again.
I shift my attention down the length of the mattress and find watchful devotion in eyes of shimmering blue. My heart hums.
Emeric told me once if anyone touched me, his response would be murderous. He’s a man of his word. Lorenzo is gone. Dead. No longer able to hurt me. I still feel heavily weighted by shock, my insides aching with the loss of Schubert and coiling with worry over Emeric taking such a drastic gamble with his future to protect me. But we’ll get through this together, no matter what.
Sitting on the bed beside my feet, he traces a hand along the outline of my leg in the blankets. His chiseled face is smoothed into a calm mien framed in exhaustion. His black hair spikes in a chaos of perfection, and a steel gray Henley stretches across his shoulders, accentuating the strength of his neck. He risks that neck for me repeatedly, and today was no different.
My grateful smile comes easily. “How long have I been out?”
His jaw shifts, mashing the gum in his mouth. “Six hours.”
I’m aware he spent that time dealing with Lorenzo’s body. What did he do with it? The flicker in his gaze tells me he anticipates the question, but there’s a hard glare there, too. He’s not going to tell me.
I don’t want him to carry this burden alone, but it would be important to him to keep me isolated from the details. Pushing him on it would only make him frustrated and conflicted.
I can be rational on this one thing.
His hand moves over the bend of my knee, his thumb stroking against the covers. “Your brother is leaving.” He looks at Shane and steels his voice. “For good this time.”
Blowing out a breath, I check what I’m wearing—another one of Emeric’s t-shirts. No panties. I shift to sit against the headboard, dragging the covers with me, and meet Shane’s eyes.
He scoots to the edge of the chair and rubs his palms over his jeans, watching the movement. “It’s a little late, but I’m saying it anyway.” He glances at me. “I’m sorry.”
Two words don’t erase years of abuse and bullshit. However, his actions today, his choosing me over Lorenzo, hit hard and true, fracturing the ugly barrier between us.
A fracture doesn’t bring down a wall. But it does leave behind a precious weak point, one that will always be there. Whenever I think of him, I’ll feel that fracture and remember it fondly.
Emeric studies our interaction, his expression neutral, his caresses lingering on my ankle.
Shane lifts a hand and reaches for mine, making an awkward hesitation in the space that separates us before hooking our fingers together.
He smiles sadly, squeezes my hand, and whispers, “Fuck you, Ivory.”
I squeeze back. “Have a nice life, Shane.”
He pulls his hand away, then his gaze, and walks out the door without looking back.
A pang of loss tightens my chest. The urge to stop him tenses my legs.
But he broke into Emeric’s house. He beat me for years. I’m no longer a victim. With those reminders, I let him go.
Emeric follows him out. When he returns a few minutes later, he strips naked, slides into bed behind me, and curves his body around mine. I revel in the warmth of his skin and twine our legs together, melting against his chest with a sigh.