Chapter thirty-two
Harrison and Violet's Apartment, The Level
Violet
“Where did you say he was?” I ask Russell. When I woke, I was surprised to find my brother sitting on the other sofa, his eyes glued to a soccer match playing on the huge television that dominates the living room.
“Out,” he says, glancing at me then turning back to the screen.
“Where?”
“He’ll tell you when he gets back. Now, go back to sleep and let me watch this.” He lifts the beer in his hand to his lips and drinks greedily. “Yes!” he cheers, jumping from the seat. “Get in boys! Goal! Merry fuckin’ Christmas!”
“Men,” I mumble, pushing myself up to sit. My baby kicks furiously at the interruption to their relaxation. “Ouch, stop that. It hurts. Mummy is not happy with you.” When I look up, my brother is watching me, a peculiar look on his face. “What is it?”
“It’s good to have you back, Sis,” he says, and my heart strains. “I’m glad you and Waite have managed to sort things out. I know I don’t always act like I care, but I do.”
“We’re getting there. We have a lot to learn about each other. It’s been a long time since we were teenagers.” I run my hands through my hair in an attempt to calm the strands. “I hope the two of you will be able to be as close as you used to be. You and Harry were inseparable. What happened?”
He swallows visibly, then turns to face me.
Seconds pass before he speaks—he’s considering what to say.
Or, perhaps, whether to tell me the truth.
My mind strays, and I wonder if a woman was involved.
Did one of them get the girl? Harry hasn’t mentioned anyone of importance, but there have been women, I know that.
Did my brother lose his best friend over one of them? It seems a plausible reason.
“I’m jealous of him,” he admits, surprising me.
“I’ve never been able to understand…” He looks away, dropping his eyes from mine.
Color coats his cheeks, and he takes a deep steadying breath.
The strong man, who rules his friends with an iron fist, disappears, and all I can see is my big brother, broken and confused.
“Understand what?” I prompt, standing then walking over to sit beside him. I take his giant hand between my two small ones. “You can talk to me, Russ. I’m your sister. I will listen.”
“I never understood how he ended up a better man than me. It doesn’t matter what he fucking touches, it works.”
He doesn’t look at me, keeping his focus firmly on the floor.
His skin flushes, glowing red at his throat and the top of his chest where his shirt sits open, embarrassment and discomfort visible at speaking about his insecurities.
“Not strictly true,” I say, raising my eyebrows, and he glances up.
“He failed to save me from that plane. Then he managed to get himself bound on the ground outside.”
He laughs, and so do I, the mood lightening.
I return to being silent, leaving room for him to continue to talk if he wants to.
My brother doesn’t open up easily; this is a special moment that he chose me to speak to.
“When we all went to study law, I was a few years ahead. Being the oldest and in front is something I was used to.”
He inhales deeply, his large chest rising and falling.
“Then we set up the firm. Harrison came into his own, winning cases that many more experienced lawyers had turned down. He made a name for himself. Clients flocked to us.”
I look at my older brother, and my heart shatters.
He was so used to being the man in charge.
The winner. The best. My father applied unimaginable pressure growing up about his expectations of him, the grades he expected him to attain while complying fully with our father’s demands.
If there had been any bad behavior in our home, Russell took the brunt of the punishment whether he was guilty or not, always protecting both Connor and me.
Harrison had become a regular visitor to our home when he was sixteen.
He was clever and charming. My mother smiled when he spoke, and my father praised his work ethic at the private school he attended, courtesy of our family.
Even though they were close, I had seen annoyance flit across my older brother’s face when my father bestowed his approval on Harry.
It was something Russell rarely received.
When he spoke to him, there was always the insinuation he could have done more, been more successful. Just more.
“I got angry,” Russell says. “We fell out over a case that was his but I wanted.” He rubs at his forehead, wiping away invisible sweat. “He relented and gave it to me. I lost. Our client went to jail, and it was my fault. I missed something.”
“What happened then?” I cajole. This needs to be out in the open. Whatever is eating at him needs to be said out loud so he can let go of the resentment and hurt.
“Harry took over, found the technicality, and won on appeal.”
“That would have been a kick in the teeth,” I say, hoping to convey understanding and empathy.
“I appreciate how difficult that would have been for you, Russ. I do, but I think your issue is with our father and his unfair expectations. His relentless control and demands. Harry was always gifted—he would never have come this far if he wasn’t.”
He squeezes my fingers, acknowledging my statement.
“But that doesn’t make you any less of a man. His success isn’t defamation of you; it should give you pride.”
“What makes you say that?” he questions, and I smile at him.
“Without you, Harry might never have been found. He wouldn’t have become the incredible man he is today. He would probably have never attended law school or had the life he does.”
He rewards me with a soft smile in understanding.
“And I would never have found him. So, for that alone, brother, I thank you.”
I reach forward and wrap my arms around him.
“Please sort this. He loves you like a brother. Don’t let insecurities and our father ruin what is true friendship.”
The apartment door opens, and Harry walks into the room.
When I glance up, I see he’s smiling. His eyes search for me, then focus, pinning me to my seat.
My mouth dries. I can tell by looking at him he has plans for us.
Something to celebrate. There is a quiet determination behind the smile; normally I see that when he has my legs spread with his head between them as he entices my body to let go and orgasm.
My nipples hardened beneath the soft tank top I am wearing.
He gives me a knowing look, then his attention moves to Russell who is walking toward him.
“Thank you for coming and sitting with Violet,” he says, holding out his hand. Russell takes it firmly, shaking it, before pulling him into a bear hug. Harry’s expression changes to momentarily stunned as the other man embraces him.
“I will do anything for my sister,” Russell tells him. “I’m sorry for being an asshole these past few years. Your achievements are not grounds for me to be a dickhead.”
Harry’s mouth drops open slightly. His gaze runs over my brother’s face—he’s waiting for the catch.
Russell releases him, standing straight and squaring his shoulders.
“You have always been my brother. I love you like one. Did you find what you were looking for?”
Harry nods. “You can fill me in later, once you’ve updated your girl.”
My heart swells with my brother’s acceptance of us. He glances at me and smiles, his eyes filled with genuine joy.
“Thank you,” Harry replies simply.
“I’ll be going. Merry Christmas, both of you.” Russell moves back in my direction as I sit on the sofa, leaning down and embracing me. “Thank you, little Sis. You helped me see sense,” he whispers in my ear. “I love you.” Without another word, he leaves.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” I ask the beautiful man standing on the other side of the room.
“There are so many things I have to tell you and discuss with you, but right now, all I want to do is take you to bed.”
He strides over then offers me his hands.
I take them and stand to meet him. “Would it be all right if we put this conversation on pause? Can I enjoy you first, then I’ll tell you everything and what I want to suggest to limit Marley’s ability to hurt you both?”
He places both hands on my stomach then rests his forehead against mine.
“Before things change, Violet, I want one more time like this.”
“Before things change,” I say, confused. The statement makes me nervous. “Do you have bad news for me? Tell me where you were, now, then we can go to bed. I won’t relax until I know you won’t leave me.” His eyes are closed as he leans against me. I keep mine open, gazing up at him.
“I will never leave you through choice, Violet. For me to walk away, someone would have to drag me.” He places a kiss on my forehead. “I went to Belmarsh Prison to visit my father,” he confesses.
“Your father? He’s alive?” The shock in my voice is evident.
“I suspected as much, but it was only confirmed today. He was the pimp who owned the whorehouse I grew up in. He worked his own wife.”
“His wife?” I stammer.
“It’s a long story. We can discuss it later.”
“Answer me one thing—are you all right?”
“Yes,” he says, opening his eyes and fixing them on me.
“I discovered I was nothing like him. The fact his DNA flows in my veins doesn’t define me. Family is what you make it.”
He leans down and kisses me gently on the tip of my nose.
“I realized that where I came from isn’t important. It’s the man I am now that is.”
His hand rises, cupping my chin, and he runs his thumb over my bottom lip.
“And from this day forward, you and this little bundle here will be my absolute focus. My life will be spent pleasing you. I adore you both more than I could ever show you.”
My hands rise and wrap around his neck. He takes my mouth with his, kissing me hard enough to bruise my lips.
When he withdraws, they sting a little. “You’re mine, Violet,” he growls.
“You always fucking have been. Back when I took you for the first time in your bedroom, I knew it. That’s what terrified me. Sliding inside you, our connection was undeniable.”
“You said what we did was wrong,” I mumble.