Chapter 37 ANI
Alek’s head rests just below my leg. His skin is clammy and every breath is shallow.
I sit frozen on the island, unable to move, unwilling to blink in case that is the second he stops breathing.
My legs tremble, but I press my knees together and try to hold still so I don’t disturb him.
I tell myself it’s because he needs rest.
I keep waiting for the familiar flood of anger and the resentment I’ve carried for so long, but it doesn’t come.
I don’t hate him. I never really did. Honestly, I hated what he did, the choices he made, and the secrets he kept.
I hated how he always caved to what our father wanted, instead of leading his own life.
But the constant fighting and bickering with him?
That was just a shield, my way of dealing with the fear of losing him.
As I sit in a pool of his blood, that fear is no longer just a possibility. It’s a terrifying reality.
My chest constricts so tightly, it’s hard to breathe. What will I do if he doesn’t make it? If he slips away here, on this slab of granite? I can’t picture a world without Alek in it. No matter how fractured we’ve become, he’s my brother. My blood. The only tie I have left to the place I came from.
“Ani, baby…” Nik’s voice pulls me out of the spiral I’m headed for. I turn my head, and he’s there, crouched close, his face softer than I’ve ever seen it. “I’ll be over here if you need anything.”
He stands, his blood-stained hands leaving dark prints against his shirt, and when he touches me, those stains spread onto mine, too. It’s only when I look down that I realize my own shirt is speckled and streaked in the crimson of Alek’s blood.
“Anything, okay?” Nik says again, firmer this time.
He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering for just a breath before stepping out onto the terrace.
The glass door clicks shut, muffling the low rumble of voices—Hawk, Gunnar, Jagger, Damon.
And now Enzo and Cillian, too, the men Nik trusts most. They gather outside, talking strategy, control, and war.
Left alone and suddenly engulfed in silence, my eyes flick back to Alek. The rise and fall of his chest is barely perceptible beneath all the blood. There’s too much of it. On him. On me. On the counters. Still dripping onto the floor.
My legs are shaky as my feet land when I slide off the granite top.
I turn on the sink and wait for the water to warm.
It feels like it takes forever, though I know it’s only seconds.
I grab a dishcloth from the drawer, wet it, and wring out the excess water.
My hands shake so badly that the fabric slips twice before I can hold it steady.
I return to Alek and start with his chest, careful around the ugly sutures Damon stitched. Working methodically, I wipe away the blood, rinsing, wringing, and repeating. Each time I dip the rag under the running faucet, pink swirls spiral down the drain like something out of a nightmare.
His skin looks less like death as I clean him, and he looks more like my brother again. I whisper apologies under my breath, words I’ll never say when he’s awake. I’m sorry I hated you. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. I’m sorry I didn’t say I love you.
When I finish with him, I can’t stop. The counter is slick with pools of blood, the cabinets streaked where it sprayed. I scrub until my arms ache, until the rag is more red than white.
“Ani.” Nik’s voice cuts through the haze, steady and low. I don’t hear the door open, but Nik is suddenly behind me. “Ani.” His hand closes gently over mine. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I have to do something.” My voice cracks, and I hate how small it sounds.
Enzo walks toward us, his dark eyes warm and caring. “We’ll take care of this.”
Nik doesn’t let go of me. Instead, he gently pulls me from the mess. “Let them, while we get you cleaned up.”
I shake my head, pulling back just enough to keep the rag moving. “I don’t want to leave him.”
From the doorway, Cillian’s voice rumbles. “We’ll watch over him.”
My hands falter, and Nik doesn’t give me chance to argue. He slides the cloth out of my grip and sets it on the counter, dragging me away before I can protest. My feet stumble, but his hand is firm at the small of my back, guiding me down the hall and into our bedroom.
Without a word, he steers me into the bathroom and turns on the shower. The cascading water fills the room, drowning out the noise in my head. He reaches for my shirt as shower warms.
“I can do—”
“I know you can,” he cuts me off, gently tugging at the hem of my shirt.
His hands are careful and reverent as he strips me from my blood-soaked clothes and haphazardly tosses them away.
They land in a heap on the floor, too ruined to ever be saved.
He peels the layers away like he’s unwrapping something fragile.
“My brothers are taking care of Alek, the same as they’d take care of me. Let me take care of you.”
My throat closes around the words I want to say as he slides my panties down my legs. Once I’m naked, he removes his own clothes and tugs me under the spray with him.
The water runs red at first, swirling around the drain, staining the white tile.
Nik takes the bar of soap and lathers it in his palms before running them gently over my skin, washing away every trace of the life that spilled from my brother.
His touch is firm but soothing, his hands rubbing slow circles over my shoulders, my arms, my hands.
Pulling me close, he holds me tight to his chest before tipping my head back.
He wets my hair and works shampoo in with steady fingers, massaging my scalp, with my hands resting on his chest. I don’t even realize I’m crying until Nik tilts my chin up and wipes away the tears with the pad of his thumb.
“He’s strong, Ani. Stubborn as hell. He’ll fight. ”
I nod in agreement, though his words feel hollow.
Tenderly, he rinses the soap from my hair, running his fingers through it until the water runs clear. Then he wraps me in a towel and ushers me into the bedroom. He dresses me in clean clothes. letting his soft, warm shirt swallow me whole.
By the time we return to the kitchen, the smell of bleach hangs faintly in the air. The counters gleam and the floors shine. Every drop of blood is gone. If not for Alek’s resting body stretched out on the island, you’d never know what went down here.