Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Fiero
I find my brothers in the basement, waiting for me. I don’t know how they knew tonight was going to be the night, but they knew, and now they’re here, waiting for confirmation I did what I set out to do.
Remo is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his jaw tight.
Brando is sitting at the table, turning that fucking blade between his fingers.
And Cass is sitting opposite him, his knees apart, shirt half open, fresh ink blistering over his collarbone.
As soon as the door clicks, their gazes lift.
No one speaks as I pull out a chair and sit, laying a palm flat on the table like that’s going to ground me. I look up, my expression blank.
“It’s done.”
My tone is dull. Almost dead.
“I ruined Pfeiffer McAllister.”
Silence stretches as they absorb the words. They’ve been waiting a long time for this, after all. Revenge. Absolution. Normally that kind of thing feels good, but in this moment, I feel nothing.
Remo exhales slowly, a satisfied curl to his mouth.
“About fucking time.”
Brando doesn’t say anything, but his lashes lift. He watched Pfeiffer patch me up after I took a bullet for her. But, being the youngest when I became mute, he was affected the worst by everything that happened. His brief nod is approval of what I just did.
I pan my gaze to Cass. He’s watching me with a blank look on his face. He’s the only person I confided in about my feelings for Pfeiffer. So he’s the only one who knows how hard this was for me to do.
It was a hard thing. But it was the right thing.
I’ll get over her in time. This will only hurt a short while.
Who the fuck am I kidding? I never want to lick my lips again so I can forever hold the taste of her tears.
“So what happened?” Remo asks. “Give us the details.”
I take a deep breath and talk through the pain. It’s the only way I can get through the rest of this night without falling apart.
“She found out about the wedding,” I start. “She asked why I didn’t take her as my plus-one.”
Remo smirks. Cass looks down at the table.
“I explained what happened after she humiliated me in class—not the detail, but enough. She seemed to recall the day it happened, but… it was clear she’d blocked it out.”
Seeing the realisation dawn on her in real time felt more brutal than any throat I’ve sliced.
Remo pushes off the wall and saunters to the table. “Well done for unblocking it. Why should all of us have to remember the fall-out when she gets off not thinking about it the rest of her life?”
He pulls out a chair with an enormous shit-eating grin on his face. “Your work here is done, my friend. Take the rest of the day off.”
Cass doesn’t react. Just keeps looking at the damn table. “Was she okay?” he says softly.
Remo whips to him. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why should we care?”
Cass slowly looks over at Remo. “Because she’s a fucking human. And so are we.” His gaze skates across each of us. “Despite all evidence to the contrary.”
Unlike me, Remo and Brando, Cass’s body count is low to non-existent—directly, anyway.
Remo stands, slamming his hands on the table. “Yes. Exactly. We are human. And this is a very human reaction to the damage that bitch caused. Don’t you remember, Cassio?”
Remo lets the question hover.
We all know the answer but then he reminds us, in gruesome detail. But hearing what our father did to me doesn’t make me flinch anymore—doesn’t make me feel sad, ashamed or horrified about what I went through. It just makes me feel numb.
Cass rises to his feet. “Why do we need to re-live it, Remo? Fuck knows it was hard enough at the time. Don’t you know how tough this was for Fiero? Don’t you know he still fucking loves her?”
The room goes dead silent. I can almost hear the bones clicking as Remo slowly turns his head.
“What?” he hisses.
I don’t speak, not because I’ve chosen not to this time, but because I don’t know what to say. I can’t deny it and I’m done with lying.
Cass glances at me, his gaze full of apology—he knows he’s gone too far. But, like me, I think he’s sick of concealing the truth too.
Remo’s low voice cuts across him, spearing me in the chest. “That better not be true.”
My chest fills out and my brows hike.
“Why? What are you going to do?”
He blinks as if the question is a physical blow.
“You can’t be for real, Fiero. After everything she did?”
“She didn’t do anything,” I grit out. “She was forced into it by her fucking uncle.”
He leans over the table. “Was her uncle in the room when she taunted you?”
“He didn’t need to be. He was in her head. Same place all abusers go. You know that.”
My calmness is a facade. I’m this close to snapping and giving Remo a piece of my damn fucking mind. He’s the one who hasn’t let this lie all these years.
Of all my brothers, Remo saw the most. He covered Brando’s eyes, pushed Cass out of the room, listened to my cries through the walls. When I refused to speak, Remo was the voice our father turned to. He had to step up sooner than any of us expected.
I was useful, of course, but no one turned to me for answers. Not like they did Remo. He took on a lot of responsibility at a young age because of me. That’s why he hates Pfeiffer more than the others.
But he can’t keep punishing us all forever.
“You don’t love her.” A bitter half-laugh leaves his throat as he shakes his head.
Despite how important Remo is to me, that statement drives me insane.
“Yes,” I grind out low. “I do.”
He bares his teeth. “You know what that makes you?” he snarls. “A fucking traitor. How can you love someone who tore us apart?”
I stand without thinking, my hands balling into fists.
“She didn’t!” I bellow. “When are you going to get the fuck over yourself and listen to the truth, Remo? It wasn’t fucking her!”
A knife driving deep into the table makes us all step back.
Brando is glaring at us, his hand white-knuckling the handle of the blade he just drove halfway into the wood. Either he really is inhumanly strong or that blade is sharp enough to rival every single item the Fagans own.
“We didn’t want her ruined for this,” he growls. “This was supposed to bring us together, not drive us apart.”
Cass sits back down and folds his arms as though Brando just succinctly made every point he’d been debating himself.
Remo and I glare at each other, then he shakes his head and I know there’s no going back. I’ve hurt him. By failing to fall out of love with the girl who triggered my father’s anger that day, I’ve failed him.
I might have shattered Pfeiffer in the street and walked away from the broken pieces, but in Remo’s mind, I’d chosen her all along.
He straightens and holds his hands up, his lids falling closed like he can’t bear to look at me—or any of us.
“I can’t do this,” he sighs, his voice heavy with disappointment.
When he stalks out of the room, none of us stop him.
I know he’ll come around eventually. He has to. We’re all he’s got.
Minutes pass, punctured only by Brando’s grunt as he heaves the knife out of the table and goes back to turning it over in his fingers.
Cass takes a deep breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever say this,” he says calmly, “but I’m disappointed in you.”
I cough out a despondent laugh. “You too?”
“Yeah.”
I jerk my chin. “What about you, Bran? Have I disappointed you too? Might as well make it a full fucking house.”
Brando glances sideways at me, his lips twitching into what would be a smile if Brando’s face muscles ever experienced one.
I glide my gaze back to Cass and open my hands. “Well, go on then.”
He breathes again, his brow furrowing. “After everything other people have put you through, you still didn’t choose yourself.”
I swallow, his words hitting me square in the jugular.
“You knew what you wanted this whole time. And you had a chance with her. She wanted you. She fell for you. That’s what you’ve always wanted, brother. Not revenge.”
It feels like my chest is pressing against my ribs.
“Before that day, before all the nightmares, you used to talk in your sleep.”
I sit up, brightening at the possibility of a memory that doesn’t involve beating, humiliation, grief or sadness.
“I did?”
Cass looks over at me. “Yeah. It used to make me feel safe, like a reminder that I wasn’t alone in the room when it was pitch dark outside. That was the thing that broke my heart the most. When you stopped speaking in your waking hours, you stopped speaking at night too.”
“What… What did I talk about? In my sleep?”
He huffs and shakes his head, a hollow smile teasing at his lips. “Her. Pfeiffer. You only ever talked about her.”
Brando’s knife stops turning.
My fingers curl around the chair as I try to channel the pain outwards. The agony comes on so suddenly, I don’t know how to process it.
The cruelest thing about regret is it usually arrives with clarity. And pixel by pixel, the picture is getting clearer. I’ve made a colossal mistake. I finally had the girl of my actual dreams and I just let her go. For what?
“Do you remember what I said?”
Cass tips his head and squints at the ceiling.
“No. It was muffled, like your words got all jumbled up. But you always said her name so clearly, and always with a soppy fucking smile on your face.”
I bite into my cheek as the sheer horror of what I’ve done to her and to myself climbs up my throat.
“I never saw her when you were at school together, but when she was here, the way she looked at you, Fiero…”
His breath shakes. “You’re our brother and we’ll always love you. But… none of us are capable of loving you like that.”
I swallow again and my voice cracks. “Like what?”
“Like the world will end if you don’t love her back.”
Brando’s knife drops to the table and he plants his face in his hands before running rough fingers through his hair.
“Do you have anything to add?” I ask him, praying to God he doesn’t, because I already want to slit my damn wrists.
“No.” He stares blankly. “I agree with Cass.”
My eyes feel damp so I ram my fingers into my eye sockets, rubbing any emotion clean away.
“So, what are you saying? I should try to get her back?”
“No, Fiero.” Cass’s tone turns irritated.
“I’m saying you need to think about what you want and stop worrying about what other people expect of you.
If you want to get her back, then you go and fucking get her back.
If you want time to think, take the time to think.
Don’t let expectations derail you. You’re the Don of this family, Fiero. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
I stand with more conviction than I’ve felt in months.
“I don’t need time to think,” I state. “I know what I want.”
Brando lifts his head. “He’ll get over it.” He means Remo.
Cass settles back in his chair. “What are you waiting for?” Then he grins, knowingly. “Go and get her.”