Chapter 45
Kai
I stare at the ruin of my brother’s face and the tears cutting tracks through the scar tissue I put there, my mind swimming as I try to process everything Ezra just said. But I’m stuck on a single thought that repeats ad nauseam.
He thought he was protecting me.
My brother thought he was saving my life. Every punch, every kick, every time he made me feel worthless and small—he thought he was toughening me up for something worse.
What I can’t get over is…he might have been right.
If I hadn’t had Haven to run to, I might have ended up just like him—broken and bitter and so full of rage that hurting those closest to me was the only thing that makes sense.
But I did have Haven.
I’ve always had Haven.
Still, I chose violence more often than not.
Yet still, she’s here. Still by my side during what must be one of the most uncomfortable Thanksgiving dinners in history.
And she’s defending me.
“You want to know what makes Haven special?” My voice is steady and calm, but fuck knows where the stillness is coming from.
I hold on to it like a lifeline anyway.
“Everything, Ezra. Every single fucking thing.”
My brother’s eyes narrow and his lips part to speak, but I just keep going.
“She grew up in the same shithole we did. Her dad was a junkie who—” I stop, swallowing hard. The abuse Haven suffered is not my story to tell. “She went through hell too, Ezra. But she’s still here.”
“Kai, darling,” Sharon says. “Why don’t we all relax a little and have some dessert? There’s a pie—“
“Shut the fuck up, Sharon,” Richard cuts in without even looking at his wife. “Can’t you see Kai’s trying to impress his little bitch? Big man, aren’t we, son?”
Haven grabs my hand and I squeeze it, drawing strength from her touch as I do something that’s always felt impossible—ignoring my father.
The growl he makes when I keep my eyes fixed on Ezra, when I keep speaking like he didn’t say a word, makes the hairs on my nape prickle…but I don’t stop.
“She’s still the kindest, funniest, most stubborn person I’ve ever known.
” I let out a shuddering breath. “She saw the worst parts of me—the cruelty, the violence, all the shit I did to her because I was too weak to question your lies—and she forgave me anyway. Not because she’s stupid or naive.
But because she knows what it’s like to be so broken that you want to break everyone around you just so you can feel normal again. ”
Ezra shoves his hands into his pockets, a sullen set to his jaw.
“She’s special because she makes me want to be a better man. Because when I’m with her, I can actually see a version of myself that isn’t a complete fucking disaster, and I want that for her. For us.”
My voice cracks, but I push through. Ezra drops his gaze, so I look at Sharon, then Richard, forcing my spine straight.
For the first time in my life, I’m standing tall around my family.
“I love Haven. I’ve loved her since the day we met, and I’ll love her until the day I die.
” I sandwich her hand between mine, squeezing.
“I’m going to marry her if she’ll have me.
Even though I know I don’t deserve her. Even though I know I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for everything I’ve done. ”
Haven makes a soft sound beside me, but if I look at her right now, I’ll fall apart. Instead, I look back at Ezra. He’s glaring at Haven under his lashes, but when he hears my voice directed at him, he shifts his gaze back to me.
“You thought you were protecting me?” My voice drops low. “You ruined my fucking life. You filled my head with lies about her. You made me hate the only person who ever truly loved me.”
Ezra’s scowl tightens.
“We could have helped each other. We could have gotten out together.”
I shake my head slowly.
“But you just couldn’t stand that I had something good when everything in your life was shit. So you chose violence, just like Dad. And I did as well, but that’s all changed.”
“You ungrateful shit.” Richard’s chair scrapes back, but he stays in his seat. “Everything you have, everything you are, is because of me.”
“Because of you?” I say quietly. “Yeah, right.”
Sharon reaches out and puts her hand on Richard’s arm, patting it like she’s trying to soothe a snarling dog. “Richie, please. He doesn’t mean it. He’s just upset. Please, darling—“
“You don’t get to defend him anymore.” I don’t even look at my mother. “Not today. Not ever again.”
Sharon’s hand stills. Her eyes fill, but she doesn’t speak again.
When I finally turn to Haven, she’s desperately wiping at the tears spilling from her eyes.
“That’s why Haven is special. She helped me break the cycle. With her, I make my own choices. And I’m done choosing violence.”
I force a swallow, clear my throat.
“I choose life. I choose love.” I bring Haven’s hand up to my mouth, kissing her knuckles. “Maybe, one day, you will too.”
Ezra’s face cycles through pain, rage, despair…but he shuts them down one by one.
Until there’s nothing left.
“You’re right,” he whispers, slowly shaking his head. “She’s the reason you survived, not me. She’s the reason you never needed me.”
His hand comes out of his pocket.
He’s holding a gun.
Sharon gasps.
Richard goes completely still. The contempt drains out of his face, leaving behind fear, confusion, dread. He almost looks like the man he might have once been before he broke.
The barrel swings toward Haven. Our hands are suddenly clenching tight enough to stop the blood flow to our fingers.
“So what happens when she’s gone?” Ezra’s finger curls around the trigger.
I move without conscious thought. One second I’m standing beside Haven, the next I’m in front of her. She’s still gripping my hand, but I keep my arm pushed back, herding her behind me as the muzzle of Ezra’s gun gapes at me.
“Kai, don’t—“ Haven’s voice is raw with fear.
“It’s okay, Heavenly.” I don’t take my eyes off my brother. “I’ve got you.”
“Move!” Ezra yells, the gun dipping and rising as he tries to aim past me at Haven.
“You want to shoot someone?” I lift my chin. “Shoot me. I’m the one who put you in the hospital. I’m the one who left you behind every afternoon. She didn’t do anything.”
Ezra’s hand begins to shake. Tears and snot stream down his face, until he looks less like a monster and more like the scared kid I remember from our childhood. The one who’d crawl into my bed after Dad was done with him, and lie there shivering until he fell asleep.
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to—“ He cuts off with an angry sound. “You think I set all this up just so I could shoot your fucking girlfriend? This wasn’t about you, Kai. This wasn’t about her. It never was. This was about us.” He waves the gun at Mom and Dad.
“About me.”
My mind reels, adrenaline racing through my veins like I’m holding a live wire, and the pieces finally slot into place.
My brother was going to kill himself.
At the Thanksgiving table.
While we all watched.
“Jesus, Ezra,” I murmur through numb lips. “Why didn’t you tell someone you were this deep in it? You could have gone to therapy.”
“You think telling some asshole how Dad used to make me bleed is gonna fix me?”
I don’t know what the fuck to say to that. I never went to therapy, even when I knew I should have.
“Nah, bro,” Ezra scoffs. “There’s no fixing me. I’ve known it since I started college. Because even then, even when I wasn’t in this fucking house anymore, it didn’t matter. I still had the panic attacks and the insomnia and the anger issues.”
He holds out the gun, studying it.
“I’d have done this years ago. But then I met Bastian, and I thought I had shit figured out. It was like…I felt like I finally had a chance to be happy. Or as close to happy as I ever thought possible.”
The gun lowers, and for a sweet, sweet moment I think he’s going to set it down. But he raises it again, ever so slowly, aiming it straight at my head.
“Imagine my fucking surprise when he dumped me for you.”
“That’s not how it happened, Ezra,” Haven says behind me. “You can’t blame Kai.”
Thankfully, Ezra ignores her.
“He chose you over me,” my brother says in an almost conversational tone of voice. “After everything.”
His gaze slides to Haven, and that’s when he registers what she’d said.
“Wait…both of you?” It’s not rhetorical. It’s incredulous.
Humiliation flashes over Ezra’s face before he blanks out his expression.
“Ezra,” I say carefully.
“Don’t.” The gun wavers until he steadies his arm. A slow, manic smile spreads on his mouth. “You’re right, Kai. She does make life worth living. I don’t even feel suicidal anymore.”
He moves the gun to the side, and it takes me too long to figure out why.
Haven has stepped out behind me, hands raised, like she’s trying to reason with my unhinged brother.
“But I bet you’ll want to kill yourself when she’s gone.”
I’m frozen again, heart pounding uselessly as I watch my brother’s finger curl around the trigger.
“No!” Mom lunges forward, yanking my brother’s arm. “Stop it! Stop it right now!”
“Sharon!” Richard yells, and I swear, it’s almost like he gives a shit whether she lives or dies.
“Bitch!” Ezra jerks his arm free, his face contorting with rage. “Where the fuck were you when I needed you?”
The gun swings toward her.
“You never did nothing! You just fucking watched!”
“Put down the fucking gun!” Richard bellows.
Ezra gives him a dismissive glance, tightening his grip on the gun.
Sharon’s crying, mascara running down her face in black rivers as she holds up shaking hands. “I’m sorry, Ezra baby,” she sobs. “I’m so sorry. I—I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do, and—“
“Sorry?” Ezra’s voice drops to a growl. “You’re sorry?”
Sharon hiccups through her tears, her bangles rattling as she clasps her hands together like she’s praying. “Yes! Yes, baby! I’m so, so sorry—“
“You know what sorry gets you, you fucking cunt?” Ezra mumbles.
He pulls the trigger.
The sound is deafening in the enclosed space of the dining room—like the world is cracking in half.