Chapter 33 Brady
brADY
Struggling to get my emotions under control, I know I’m holding Elizabeth’s hand too tight in the elevator, but she doesn’t complain.
She also doesn’t offer any platitudes or ask questions, which I appreciate more than she can imagine. I don’t think I could take it. I haven’t slept in days, and the mind-fuck it always is seeing my father is hitting harder than normal.
My father has never apologized for anything. Ever. Not when he missed every single birthday, most times forgetting to even send a present, not for missing every one of my high school football games, all of my graduations, or even when I won my amateur title bouts.
Not even when he shattered Sera’s already broken heart after her attack. I shove aside the image of my father’s awkward grin when he stood next to my sister’s bed, staring in ill-concealed horror at her heavily bandaged face and arm.
No. I can’t go there without turning around and beating the shit out of him. The only thing that stopped me that day was the fact that it would have just upset Sera more.
But today he’d apologized.
And he looked like he actually meant it.
I shake my head. Getting us into that party is the least he can do.
This fucking party. Ice has formed a permanent boulder in my gut.
I try to assure myself that Elizabeth will be safe.
It’s a public setting. High-profile. There will be too many eyes for Anna to try anything reckless.
That’s what I repeat in my head, over and over, like sheer logic can muscle down the tension suffocating me.
It doesn’t work.
The thought of Elizabeth walking into that room—even surrounded by people, even with Rhodes, Vincent, and myself in the room with her, disguised as caterers—has every instinct in me on high alert. My jaw’s permanently tight, and I can feel a muscle ticking in my temple with my pulse.
My body knows the truth even if my brain keeps trying to argue otherwise.
If I had my way, Elizabeth would never be afraid another day in her life. I’d wrap her up, keep her out of reach, and burn down anyone who so much as looked at her sideways. But that’s not the way this works, and she’s already carrying enough nerves about what she’s going to do.
So, I bury it. Force my expression to stay neutral, keep my tone steady. If she glances at me—and she will—I need her to see confidence in the plan, not the storm threatening to break loose.
The last thing I’ll ever do is make her more afraid than she has to be.
I do my best to regulate my breathing as I open the door for Elizabeth, scanning the parking lot as I round the hood.
Elizabeth shifts in her seat, turning toward me.
“I’ll need a dress.” Her tone is deliberately casual.
“Yeah?”
“And before you suggest it, no, I’m not calling a stylist to send something over. If anyone’s monitoring my accounts, that kind of delivery will set off alarms.”
I roll my shoulders. “Look at you, thinking like Finn.” I give her a lopsided smile, not quite capable of pulling a real one off.
“So,” she continues, her hand brushing over her thigh in a quick, restless motion, “I’ll call Dahlia. She has tons of clothes, and we’re close to the same size. She’ll have something I can use.”
“Right.” I know I’m being gruff, and she probably has questions about what just happened with Ray, but instead of pushing, she puts her hand on the console, palm up.
I lay my hand on top and interlace our fingers. Elizabeth continues to chatter about what color might be best, and if she’ll need shoes. It’s easy to see what she’s doing. She’s giving me the space I need to get my head back on straight after Ray.
Fuck, I love her for it.
My heart slams against my ribs, and I realize I’ve clamped down on her fingers when she looks at me curiously.
Love. Shit.
Am I in love with her?
How would I even know?
Fuck.
“Are you okay? You look really pale.”
“Fine.”
She gives me a look. “If I’m not allowed to say that word, neither are you.”
My brain is racing, trying to make sense of what I’m feeling.
Elizabeth eventually grows quiet, and when we get to the office, she says she needs to call Dahlia and disappears upstairs.
I fight the urge to call her back or follow her up the stairs and lose myself in her body and quiet my mind. But I’m not that lucky because my sister is waiting for me in my office. Sera is trying to look nonchalant, but I know better.
“How was it?” she asks, not meeting my eyes.
I let out a low breath and drop into the chair behind my desk. “Ray is Ray.”
“That bad, huh?”
I don’t answer right away, not only because I want to be careful about how I say it, but because I’m not sure how I feel about the encounter.
In some ways, Ray was the same careless asshole he’s always been, but he agreed to help us.
Even knowing the danger. Maybe I’m being a fool to trust him, but I believed him when he said he would take care of Elizabeth.
It's the uncomfortable feeling, spreading through my gut at the genuine regret in his eyes when he spoke about Sera, that is fucking with my head.
I run my hand roughly down my face as Sera paces restlessly back and forth across my office. She spins to face me and swallows hard, like she’s making herself ask the question. “Did he ask about me?”
I hesitate.
“Brady,” she snaps. “Did he?”
I exhale. “Yeah.”
Her mouth twists like she’s chewing something bitter. “Did he ask about the scars? What they look like now?”
“No.”
She blinks, surprised. “Really?”
“He didn’t bring up how you looked at all,” I say. “Ray was disappointed you hadn’t come. He even apologized… for what he said back then.”
She scoffs. “Too little, too late.”
“I know.” I let her hear my understanding. She’s the only other person in the world who can understand the tornado of being in Ray’s sphere. The highs of when he’s good and the horrible lows when he reverts to his natural selfish state.
Sera is quiet for a moment, then her shoulders square, and she meets my eyes. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right? I’ve told you a thousand times, and I thought you’d gotten over it, but—”
“Stop.” My voice snaps like a whip, and she flinches. I close my eyes and take a deep breath trying to keep calm.
She lowers herself into the chair facing me and stares at her hands in her lap.
“Sera, I’m sorry—”
“What happened to me. Was. Not. Your. Fault.” Her hazel eyes swirl dark when they meet mine. “You may not want to talk about it, but I need you to hear me. Really hear me.”
I manage a short nod.
Sera’s chest rises with a deep inhale. “I didn’t tell you what was happening, not because I didn’t think you could help me, but because I knew you would.
You would have fixed it. But I didn’t want to be one more woman in your life needing you to step in.
” She huffs a dark laugh. “You aren’t the only one fucked up from watching Mom pine after Ray our entire lives.
Expecting you to be the parent and her friend when you were just a kid yourself. ”
“Sera—”
“I mean it.”
Her gaze holds mine, daring me to look away. I don’t, because I can see what letting down her guard is costing her—even with me.
“You were a better dad to me than most of my friends had. But you never should have had to fill that role. You were entitled to a life, too.”
Emotion creeps up my throat, and I dig my fingers into my leg under the table to keep silent. To let her continue.
“I should have told you what was happening. It was my own stupid pride that caused this. But even if I had told you, you couldn’t have stopped it that night. It happened in a split second. No warning, just the acid—” Her voice cracks and tears well in her eyes.
I swallow hard as she chews her bottom lip and then blows out a long stream of breath.
“It would have happened, regardless.” She comes to her feet and blinks away the emotion. “Besides, you avenged me.”
My entire frame stiffens, but I keep my expression blank.
Sera rolls her eyes. “Do you all think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t notice Vincent handing out packets every time someone was traveling overseas?”
I can’t speak. My air is completely stuck in my lungs.
“Where is Aaron supposed to be surfing this week? South America? Thailand? It’s not very nice of him not to even call or FaceTime his family now and then.
” She cocks her head and looks at me. “It’s been what?
Over a year since he left Atlanta? Seems a long time not to contact your family in any way other than email and postcards.
” She shrugs, her eyes full of fire. “You should have told me.”
My mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. “I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”
Her eyes narrow. “You thought I’d feel bad that you killed him for what he did to me? Made sure he could never hurt someone again…” Then, to my shock, she flashes me a smile. “You don’t know me nearly as well as you think you do, big brother.”
I’m still staring dumbfounded at her when she says, “So, you and the princess, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure? This isn’t just another one of your damsels in distress? Because she’s really not your type.”
“You don’t know her, Sera.” I sigh. “She’s been through her own shit. You’ve only seen part of it. But it’s more than that. She sees through all of mine and wants me anyway.”
Sera stares at the wall behind me for a long second. Then nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
She shrugs. “If you get her out of this in one piece… I’ll play nice.”
“That’s so generous of you,” I drawl.
She heads for the door but stops just before crossing the threshold.
“I’m not promising rom-com marathons or joint manicures.”
“Just so you know,” I lift an eyebrow at her, “she loves Taylor Swift.”
“Huh,” she grunts. “Maybe there’s hope for her after all.”
I snort. “You’d like her if you actually talked to her.”
“Maybe,” she acknowledges, flipping me her middle finger as she disappears.