Chapter 51
ZARIAH
HOLIER THAN THOU
Hersch used to tell me that our family would last the longest because we had the hardest heads. Being bullheaded was in my blood, being stubborn was in my DNA. I’d never allowed myself to tap into it before, but now?
Fucking angry didn’t cover it.
Elijah’s avoidance of Denali was embarrassing. They did drills together but the moment they were off the ice, it was like Denali didn’t exist. Denali tried to talk to him fifty times, but Elijah ignored him. It was so obvious, everybody on the team knew something was up, and it crushed Denali.
He was so hurt over it.
I was furious Elijah was throwing a tantrum.
And somehow, throughout all of this, Elijah decided his best course of action was to spark a fight with me.
He raised his voice at me whenever he caught me alone, trying to provoke me into a verbal sparring match, but I brushed past him every time. I didn’t care.
I’d dealt with my brother’s shitty attitude long enough. My armor was impenetrable. I refused to crack.
I hated the whole situation, but I hated Elijah trying to back me into a corner even more.
The spring luncheon was supposed to be a celebratory event. It was the first one Marrs actually encouraged the hockey team to attend. Instead of five players, fifteen were welcomed to come. It was big news for every Gladiator except my brother.
I got glammed-up for the occasion with a vintage halter-neck dress. It was an aqua blue that matched a shirt I found for Denali. We looked amazing together. The luncheon was supposed to be so much fun, but Elijah sulked through it.
Why couldn’t he push aside the stupid argument for one day? It was February! Bear was leaving in a couple of weeks for Boston—this was one of our last events to spend time together. I didn’t want to forget this moment.
“I’m going to grab the photographer,” I decided, pushing up from the table.
I felt the footsteps behind me, and for a moment, just a moment, I allowed myself to imagine it was Denali. But when I glanced over my shoulder, of course it was Elijah, hot on my heels.
Fuck.
Behind him, Denali jerked up to a standing position, but I shook my head.
“Sit,” I mouthed,
Denali sat back down.
“Z?” Elijah asked, catching up with me.
I stalled by the punch table. “Are you going to stop being shitty to Denali?”
“Why do you say that like I’m the jackass?” he demanded.
“Because you’re ruining everything!” I hissed.
Elijah was careful to keep his words hushed but his tone was so obnoxious, it made my hands curl into fists. “When you came back to Houston with Grandpa Herschel—”
I gritted my teeth. “Do you actually want to talk? Or are you going to keep talking over me?”
“—do you remember how many letters we got?” he continued, ignoring my question.
“Elijah, listen to me—”
“Do you remember how many letters our neighbors got? How many times Denali called? How he called dad’s school so many times, the principal had to get involved? Do you remember how fucking weird that was?”
“Denali’s not the same guy,” I insisted.
“Maybe you have amnesia but I—”
“You’re not listening to me, you’re not even trying to listen to me—”
“You hid in your room every time the phone rang!” Elijah gestured towards our table. “How could you be into somebody who did that to you? How could you tolerate that shit? What, you don’t have a backbone anymore? Who are you, Zariah?! Because my sister would never—”
I grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him to the miniature hallway beside the stage. “This holier-than-thou bullshit is so funny coming from you—”
“I’m going to tell Mom and Dad.”
My throat tightened. I stared up at him, shocked.
This wasn’t like when I’d gotten caught using Mom’s hospital paperwork to make papier-maché sculptures—we weren’t kids anymore. We were adults. I couldn’t believe Elijah could go so low as to snitch on me.
“You’re going to tell our parents,” I repeated, listless.
“Yes. Because you need to realize—”
“So when I picked you up from jail twice because of those fucking fights you always got into, and you begged me not to tell them—why did I fucking bother?” I asked, iciness creeping into my tone.
“When they told you to stop seeing your girlfriend because your grades were slipping, who the fuck was it that lied to them and said you were staying away from Sloane?”
Elijah stiffened, shoving his hands in his pockets. “That’s different—”
“Different? Different? Who the fuck are you to say anything about Denali?”
“He’s a stalker, Zariah—”
“You’re so self-righteous. And your vigilante self-righteous bullshit ended when you took it too far and almost killed someone, Elijah.”
He flinched hard, and I felt bad, but I didn’t take it back. I couldn’t.
Elijah struggled with a comeback, shifting his weight, searching for an answer to prove me wrong. “If I was right—”
“If you were right, Elijah? No, that’s not a real way of thinking.
‘If I was right’ isn’t real because you were wrong!
That option doesn’t exist, King isn’t a bad guy!
” I pointed at him. “If you want a hypothetical, what if you killed King? Think about that one. That’s what should keep you up at night! Not worrying about my relationship!”
“That’s not—I—”
“King is one of my friends,” I said, unable to keep the hurt out of my voice.
“Do you know what it was like to find out King was in the hospital and my brother put him there? To come back to Texas and to have to dance around the topic of you for months? I have to see that scar on his forehead all the time—it’s fucking horrible, Elijah.
” I shook my head. “When you thought King was such a bad guy, did you ever think to call me about him? Did you ever think about how this could’ve hurt me?
Did you ever apologize to me? Do I fucking matter?
No! Because you don’t give a shit. For you, it’s the one-man show.
It always has been. It’s always been about you! ”
“You’re—you’re just deflecting—”
“If you actually thought I was in danger, if you actually thought Denali was a problem, why is your first response to yell at me and avoid me and make me feel so fucking shitty?”
He fell silent, his eyes dropping to the floor.
“I’ve had it up to here with people telling me what to do.
” I was so angry, but my eyes were stinging.
I had to press my lips tight to keep from crying.
“It was Hersch, it was our parents, and it used to be Denali. But you’re my brother!
If you told me today that you needed a kidney, you know I’d give it!
I’ll always be there for you! But why don’t you feel the same?
Aren’t you supposed to be there for me?” My voice cracked.
“Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do for each other? ”
Elijah watched me, his face contorted in pain, but he didn’t have anything to say. I knew he didn’t.
“I’m going to Atlanta,” I finally told him. “I’m leaving in a couple of weeks.”
His mouth fell open. “What? You and Denali—”
“No. Me. Alone. I earned a writing opportunity with a studio and I’m taking it.”
“You’re leaving? Just like that?” Elijah took a step closer. It was like the previous conversation was all but forgotten. “You’re a writer, you do it on a laptop, you could write anywhere—what are you talking about? You can’t go. Why would you leave?”
Right, because it didn’t matter what I wanted. It never did.
His words stung. I gazed at him, chin jutted like he hadn’t emotionally sucker-punched me. “See, that’s the difference between you and Denali. At least he’s pretending to be excited for me.”
After the luncheon, Elijah disappeared. Denali and I returned to my dorm, and my boyfriend was so quiet on our elevator ride.
I knew there was a heavy conversation in store, but after the one with Elijah, I was exhausted.
I pretended like everything was fine and headed to my bedroom.
At my mirror, I kicked off my heels and carefully took out my earrings.
The bed creaked under Denali. I watched him in the mirror, his hands clasped in his lap. “I was thinking…”
“Mm-hmm?”
“You’re about to go to Atlanta, you don’t want things with Elijah…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think, maybe, we could tell him that he’s right, and I don’t know, pretend to break up?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “What?”
“I don’t know. I think it’d ease the tension.”
“We’re not doing that.” I frowned. “Absolutely not.”
“You’ll be in Georgia and he won’t see—”
“That every weekend when you’re conveniently gone, I go dark on social media?” I set my earrings on my desk. “That weird tension between us when I visit for Christmas? No, Denali. No more secrets, we’re not doing that.”
“Zariah—”
“Elijah’s going to get over it. Eventually.”
“I don’t want to push you away from your brother—”
“You’re not,” I insisted. “He’s just being dramatic.”
“Riah?” Denali said quietly. “I can’t be a bad memory for you. I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you, and I know you don’t feel good about what’s going on with him.”
Denali meant well, but built into that care and thoughtfulness, I could feel his anxiety spiking. He was beginning to spiral, and I couldn’t let that happen.
I watched him in the mirror. “Alaska? Can you get the rings?”
His eyes darted to the mirror, and we gazed at each other’s reflections. We hadn’t talked about them in a while, and he certainly hadn’t said anything about them being finished, but I could read him like a book. If the rings weren’t in my bedroom, his answer would’ve been instant.
The silence lingered. They were somewhere close.
Denali waited for me to say something, and when I didn’t, he walked to my closet and pulled out the ice monster box.
They must’ve been hidden inside.
The ring box was a flash of velvet in his hand, a pretty wine-red color. He set it on the desk before sitting on the bed. He was giving me space, allowing me to do what I wanted with them, but I could feel his eyes on me.
I wasn’t as cool and casual about this as my voice suggested. This was something to distract Denali from everything going on with Elijah, but my heart pounded just the same as I picked up the box and slowly opened it.
Our rings were gorgeous.
The size difference was astronomical. I rubbed the metal of Denali’s ring. It was mostly made up of the iron-gray from the typewriter, crafted with intricate metallic designs. A strip of thin gold wrapped around it.
They must’ve had more keys to spare than they had anticipated for mine. My ring was almost entirely gold with a thin iron-gray band around it.
They were so beautiful, my breath caught in my throat. Denali must’ve paid a pretty penny for them.
I took a moment to rummage through my jewelry case, searching until I found a plain gold chain. It was perfect.
“You said you wanted yours around your neck, right?” I asked.
“Yes. I…oh…” Denali trailed off as I showed him the chain, his ring hanging down the middle. Immediately, he reached for it and stopped himself.
“You’re mine, baby,” I murmured, clasping it at the back of his neck. “Nobody’s going to take you away from me.”
His fingers were quick, rubbing and tracing the ring, outlining the metal with his fingers. His breathing was unsteady, like he couldn’t decide what to say. There were no words for this. His eyes flashed between me and the ring, his throat bobbing with every swallow.
My Gladiator band caught my eye, the only piece of jewelry I wore everywhere. It was just a woven bracelet, which meant my ring could hang next to the Gladiator’s logo. Who would think to see it?
I nodded. “You have yours around your neck, I’ll have mine—”
“Zariah,” Denali said, stopping me.
There was a question written in his eyes, but I didn’t know what he wanted. “Yes?”
His gaze dropped to the ring in my hand. He swallowed again. “Please.”
Oh.
It was like how he loved to tie my ice skates or zip up my jacket, but…so much more. My pulse quickened at the nameless request. Having my ring on my bracelet was one thing—what Denali wanted was something completely different.
“Can I see it on?” he whispered. “Please?”
Could he hear my racing heartbeat? Blood roared in my ears and the blush burned so much, I felt lightheaded. Slowly, I nodded.
His hand touched my waist, bringing me towards him. God, his hands were enormous. They twitched against me as he lifted my wrist, my palm, taking the ring from me to gently slide onto my ring finger.
Denali ran his fingertips along my skin around the ring. Goosebumps spread across my body at the constant, pleased petting. Denali was so happy and it felt so good making him happy. I didn’t want to worry about Elijah, I wanted to be happily in love.
And…Denali had that look on his face.
That look I knew so well. That look that said some undeniably freaky shit hurled into his brain like a brick at a window. Whatever it was must’ve been so sinful. He was clearly wrestling with it, trying to calm down.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s just us.”
I hiked up my dress a few inches and crawled into his lap. Denali’s face darkened, like he was only now realizing what we were doing. His voice was husky, layered with indecision. “Zariah…”
Gently, I touched his face with my left hand. My ring brushed along his cheek and Denali choked out a curse. I ran the flat of my hand along his jaw, caressing him to let him feel the metal. “You like this?”
“I—I—” Denali was too embarrassed to admit it, even if he shifted closer to my hand. He hesitated. “Yes.”
“We can talk about this.”
“I—I don’t know.”
“It’s just us,” I promised. “Nobody has to find out.”
Denali took my hand, pressing it to his heart, his heartbeat. The necklace and his ring were caught under my palm, and he pressed it into his chest.
We lingered in that moment, in the indecision, both waiting to see if one of us stopped the other.
Fuck stopping.
Our movements were jerky and uncoordinated, clumsily taking off his necklace. We worked together, unclasping it to slide the ring off. Denali was quicker than me, he jammed the ring on his finger and quickly reached for my hand. We stared down at the rings on our fingers, our foreheads touching.
“Oh,” he rasped. “I didn’t think…fuck.”
“You really like this, don’t you?” I asked. “Like…a lot.”
His voice dropped so low. “Yes.”
He wasn’t the only one. This bordered on taboo, a shameful secret we’d have to keep quiet. If our families found out we had rings—oh my god. If anyone found out about this, the questions would be endless.
But we could share the secret here, together.