42. Levi
LEVI
O f all the things you could’ve fixed around here, you chose the biggest piece of shit on the island. Congrats.”
Christian’s voice slices through the air like a switchblade. It echoes off the warped wooden beams of the old barn, sharp and smug and laced with that brand of brotherly disappointment I’ve known since we were kids—sharp enough to sting, familiar enough to burn.
I ignore my brother when he steps up to the engine I’ve got torn apart in front of me. I just needed something to do, and working on engines has always calmed me when my mind was a warzone. It’s the only kind of broken I’ve ever known how to fix.
I’m fixing this damned boat whether it likes it or not.
“What part of ‘I want to be alone’ didn’t you get?” I mutter, not bothering to look at him when he leans back against the side of the old, beat-up boat that rests in the barn on Shipwreck Island. I can’t help but see the irony in the name.
Shipwreck Island is where he disappeared when life got too loud. Where he dragged Mila after saving her from whatever wreckage she’d barely crawled out of. There’s nothing here but an old, haunted cottage, a stubborn lighthouse clutching a cliff, and a few decaying shacks.
Well, and this piece of shit boat.
Shipwreck Island is quiet. Empty. The kind of place people can come to fall apart in peace.
—Unless, of course, your brother is named Christian Cross.
“Right,” he says with a smirk. “I forgot. You’re deep into your tragic lone-wolf phase.”
Fucking dick.
“Did you come out here to be a jackass, or do you want something?”
“You’re avoiding your problems,” he grunts.
“I’m not avoiding anything.”
“Bullshit. No one gives a flying fuck about this boat.”
“Maybe I do.” Maybe it’s the only thing left that I haven’t completely ruined.
Christian doesn’t seem to take the hint, instead falling into the old lawn chair beside the boat and kicking his feet up.
Jesus fucking Christ, why can’t he just leave me alone?
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be annoying?”
Christian meets my stare—steady, cutting.
“Right now, I’ve got a wife ready to murder my brother, a brother hiding out on my island, and a sad little brunette who cries herself to sleep every night, occupying most of my wife’s time. The least you could do is offer me a drink.”
Ah, of course. This isn’t a visit. It’s a goddamned siege.
My grip tightens around the wrench in my hand until my knuckles throb. That guilt I’ve been choking down for days swells, bitter and thick, rising like smoke.
I grab the bottle. Take a long pull that scorches my throat and does jack shit to ease the ache. Then I pass it to him.
It’s not a comfort. It’s a distraction that I thought I’d moved past, but it’s all I’ve got right now.
Christian drinks too, slow and thoughtful, then sets the bottle down with a soft clunk .
“How is she?”
The words come out like glass. Fragile. Dangerous.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just studies me with that unnerving stillness of his, like he’s peeling back layers I thought I buried deep enough.
“Not great. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but she just moved back to her gran’s house,” he says finally. “But of course, you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Of course, I did. I’ve only spent the last three nights waiting outside in case anyone decides to show up.
“I told her not to get attached,” I mutter, and it sounds pathetic—worse than an excuse.
It’s also hypocritical.
From the moment Ava stepped into my life, it was like the world made sense. Something mattered, and it wasn’t just my family or my job. Fuck, I mattered.
Not that it makes a damn difference.
Christian’s brow lifts. “Yeah. I’m sure that really softened the blow.”
The silence afterward is like a weight on my chest. It presses on my ribs until every breath feels like penance.
I sigh, turning back to the boat. “Doesn’t matter. It was going to happen eventually.”
Christian chuckles under his breath, shaking his head.
“You’re really committed to being the biggest dumbass this side of the Pacific, huh?”
“Fuck you.”
The asshole doesn’t know what the fuck I’m dealing with. He doesn’t know the only sleep I’ve gotten all week is when I’ve passed out, only to wake up from a nightmare, reaching for the empty spot next to me.
He doesn’t realize that I’ve watched the cameras at the house every. Fucking. Day. Just waiting to catch a glimpse of her, only to come up short.
He doesn’t realize I’m fucking dying without her.
“No, fuck you , Levi.”
“What do you want from me, Christian?” I snap. My voice cracks as I hurl the wrench. It hits the far wall with a hollow clang and vanishes into the dark. “You want me to say you’re right? Want me to stroke your ego?”
“I want you to realize you’re ruining your life by being a pussy.”
“Fuck you,” I snap. “You don’t know half the shit I’ve dealt with. You were too busy running off after Mila to even think about what was going on here.”
“You think I don’t know what Dad did to you?” His face is growing redder and redder by the moment. “You seriously think I don’t realize you went against what I said and murdered the fucking bastard?”
Well, fuck.
We stare each other down—the only sound the heavy rain outside and our heavy breathing.
“So, what? You want to lecture me? Want to turn me in?”
“Of course, I’m not going to turn you in. I wanted to do the same thing. What I want is for you to get your head out of your ass and realize you’re going to die a sad, lonely, pissed off old asshole if you don’t fix this shit.”
“I don’t want to fix things, you big asshole,” I snap. “She was a good fuck, but it’s over. We had a deal, now it’s done. She knew what she was getting into. I didn’t fucking force her.”
He opens his mouth to argue back, but stops abruptly, cocking his head to the side.
“Well, I’ll be damned . . . you’re in love with her.”
“Fuck you.”
“I never thought I’d see the day,” he murmurs, shaking his head.
“Does it matter?”
He fixes me with a dark look. “It always matters.”
I shake my head, grab the bottle, and turn away from him. I swallow half of it and don’t feel a thing.
“She doesn’t need to be a part of this.”
“She already is. And now you’ve abandoned her.”
“I didn’t fucking abandon her,” I snap. “She fucking left. It’s better this way.”
“Bullshit,” he scoffs. “You think she gives a fuck that Dad used to beat you? Or that you have nightmares some nights? She fucking loves you, for some goddamned reason. You know how hard it is to find shit like that? Especially for assholes like us.”
I shake my head. He doesn’t get it.
“She doesn’t fucking want me,” I grit. He says nothing.
“What about when Palmer shows up? What then?” He doesn’t respond when I stare at him.
“Yeah, sure, I fucking love her. I love her so much that I’d rather live a life without her than a life with her fucking dead, even if it fucking kills me. Do you not understand that?”
The silence between us is heavy.
“Everyone’s willing to break the rules for someone . . .” he says finally. “Are you willing to let her walk away?”
I shake my head, turning away so he can’t see the agony coursing through me.
It’s been a week without her, and I feel like I’m going through withdrawals day in and day out. It’s like I need her to breathe, and I’m slowly suffocating without her.
It feels like she’s stolen the man I used to be, and now, I don’t know how to live.
“I loved Mila for years . . . Even when I knew I shouldn’t. It didn’t stop just because I said goodbye.”
I don’t know what to say, so I don’t.
“I know Dad did horrible shit to you. I know he beat the fuck out of you.”
“We can save this trip down memory lane. I’m really not in the mood.”
“Too fucking bad,” he grunts. “Bad shit happened, and you have to accept that you’ve got things you need to figure out . . . but don’t punish the girl for it.”
I grip the edge of the counter in the old barn, my hands tightening until my knuckles turn white.
He’s right. I’ve always been a stubborn son of a bitch. So much so that it’s fucked me over a fair few times.
I scrub a hand over my face, trying to push the image of her tear-streaked face out of my head. It’s haunted me since I came to this goddamned island, and nothing will chase it away.
From the moment I met her, I’ve taken from her and taken from her, while keeping her at arm’s length because I knew the moment I let her get too close, I would be fucked.
Now, I have to live with the consequences.
“Love isn’t all about protecting them,” Christian says, breaking through the tirade of thoughts swirling around my brain. “Sometimes you have to accept that they’re going to see your dark parts, and hope that they can still look at you the same after.”
I scoff under my breath.
My dark parts.
Fuck, where do I even begin?
I finally toss the wrench down on the counter, looking at the broken engine torn apart in front of me, and silence fills the barn.
“You sound like a Hallmark card,” I grunt eventually.
Christian shrugs. “Sometimes Hallmark cards are right.”
Fucking hell.
I scrub a hand over my face. Look out the barn doors to the sky. Wonder what the fuck I’m doing.
“You think she’d even want me back . . . after what I did to her?”
Christian cocks a brow. “You’ll never know unless you try.”
Pain lances at my chest, and I rub over the spot absentmindedly. Maybe I’m getting old. Maybe it’s just the thought of her disappearing from my life.
I love her. That’s enough, right?
Fuck, I can’t believe I’m about to do this.
“Takes a half hour to get to her house,” I grunt, looking at the time on my phone. “Think you can get me there in the next twenty minutes?”
Christian grins.
“Make it ten.”
The ride to the little cottage in the woods feels like it lasts a lifetime. My head’s a fucking mess. My sanity is even worse.
I keep thinking about the outcome. If I manage to convince her to take me back, how the fuck am I supposed to keep her safe?