43. Talon
forty-three
Talon
E very light inside the house was out when I finally returned. The only sign of life was the porch light, which had likely been courtesy of Milo. I would be crazy to expect any sort of kindness from either of the women in the house after the way I’d acted. I had driven for hours, my scalp sore from tearing my fingers through my hair over and over again. You would think I’d be tired of driving after the week we’d had, but I couldn’t be in that house.
I couldn’t stand there and watch Misely’s heart break right in front of me and know I was the one doing it. Despite my vitriol, I was angrier at myself than her. Of the two of us, I was the one who already had an unplanned child. I was the one actively in a boatload of bullshit because I hadn’t been able to keep said child away from the prying eyes of my uncle. I should have been smart enough to wrap it up.
It was easier to blame her though. To make her hate me. To make it easier for her to let me go. Kyle didn’t know she existed anymore. As far as Kyle was concerned, Misely had stopped being a ‘person-of-interest’ after I’d combed through her apartment last year. I couldn’t keep Leo safe, but I’d damn well try harder with Misely.
Blowing out a breath, I made my way quietly through the house in the dark, careful not to let my boots hit the floorboards too hard. I wasn’t sure what would be waiting for me once I entered the guest room, but there was a guilty hope that Misely would be asleep and any uncomfortable conversations could be reserved for the morning.
“You’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence.” Milo’s voice, hoarse from fatigue as it spoke through the pitch black of the room, made me jump three feet in the air.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I cursed, pressing my palm to my chest. “What the fuck are you doing?”
His chuckle was low and lacked humor. “Did I spook you?” A light switch clicked and the table lamp beside him illuminated the small room. “Good. It’s the least you deserve after your little performance earlier.”
Milo’s expression was one of pure, unfiltered disappointment that I felt to my toes. If I’d thought he had been angry the night before, it was nothing compared to how he glared at me now.
“Sit. Down.” His command was no nonsense, but on principle I fought the urge to ignore it. I was the older brother, damnit. I was the one who barked orders. Yet I sat, running my hand through my hair yet again, gritting my teeth at my tender scalp.
Milo’s glare cut through me, dark circles heavy beneath his hazel eyes. I wondered absently how long he had been sitting there waiting for me. Long moments passed where we sat in the dim silence, staring at each other with a slew of unspoken words between us. I knew what he was going to say but the combination of my own self-deprecation and worry for the woman in the other room had me on edge.
“Are you just gonna sit there all night and fucking stare at me or are you going to say what you got on your mind? Some of us are tired.”
Milo’s jaw ticked, clearly irritable in his own right. “You’re so fucking selfish. Always worried about number one, right?”
Crossing my arms, I leaned back in the armchair but said nothing.
He shook his head with disbelief. When he spoke again, he sounded exasperated. “What the fuck was that?”
“What was what?” I bit down on the side of my cheek hard enough to taste copper.
His eyes rolled. “You know what. You didn’t even let her get a word in.”
I barked out a low laugh. “So she could say what? How everything was going to be okay? So she could downplay it and act like I’m not already caught up in a total fucking shit storm?”
“A shit storm of your own making, Talon.”
I felt every muscle in my body tighten. “Don’t you think I know that? Do you think that’s a great thing to bring another fucking kid into?”
“No, but if you would’ve shut the fuck up long enough for her to speak, you would’ve known that she hadn't even had time to see the results yet.”
An instant cold sweat beaded along the back of my neck. “What?”
A humorless twitch lifted one side of Milo’s mouth. “She’d just taken the test when we came in. So when you asked her if she was pregnant, she didn’t know yet.”
“She didn’t kno—”
“Nope. And instead of doing the right thing and shutting the fuck up, you shoved your head right up your own ass instead.”
I replayed the afternoon’s events on slow-mo in my mind, going over every line, every syllable. He was right, of course. I had been a jackass and she had barely said two words. She had been scared and anxious and it had been the perfect time to prove that I wasn’t a bloody fucking asshole. And I’d gone and proven the exact opposite.
I met my brother’s stare again, ignoring the judgment in his glare. “Is she pregnant?”
The laugh he released this time bounced off the frames of photos that lined the fireplace mantle. “As if I’m going to be the one to tell you. Hell no. You can man up and talk to her.”
My body melted into the chair, exhaustion, frustration, and heaps of self-deprecation draining me of the last of my energy. “As if she’ll ever want to speak to me again.”
“Right now? Probably not,” Milo said with a shrug, standing and stretching his arms above his head. “But if you give a shit about her, which we both know you do, you’ll grow a pair and be honest with her. Whatever the fuck it was you thought you accomplished with that little spectacle earlier was bullshit. Take the night, think about how you’d feel one way or another, and then talk to your girl in the morning.”
“She’s not my girl.”
He rolled his eyes. “Talon, do me a favor. Grow the fuck up.”
Heaving a sigh, I made to stand and head toward the guest room but Milo lifted a hand to stop me.
“She’s in with Birdie tonight. I’m taking the guest room. Because you’re the one who fucked up, I think it makes the most sense that you hole up on the couch like a man who is well and truly in the dog house.” With a smirk and two finger salute, Milo stepped into the room in question and shut the door in my face.
Sinking into the too small sofa he’d just vacated, I pressed a hand to my face, feeling like an asshole. Confusion, guilt, and the burning urge to protect Misely warred for the lead spot in my mind, only heightening my inner turmoil. It seemed like no matter what I did, I was consistently making things worse.
Her expression from that afternoon plagued my mind. The hurt that lay in her eyes and the way she flinched when I threw Cara at her. What the fuck was wrong with me? But I already knew. The intention had been to hurt her. To say something awful enough that she would not forgive me. And knew I was not worth forgiving, that she was so far out of my league…but what ifs kept my stomach rolling.
What if she really did give a shit about me? What if she really did see some sort of future with me? What then? And the one that would now keep me awake the rest of the night—what if she really were pregnant? With my child? Would I really go on as I had with Kenna? Live separately from Misely and the baby we’d created on this strange little journey we had taken?
Could I miss out on all the little moments, all the firsts? Miss out on seeing Misely’s body change and glow as she grew this tiny person, this miniature version of the two of us? I wasn’t sure I could. Because unlike the first time I’d fucked up with Kenna, I was pretty sure I might actually fucking love this girl. Misely wasn’t just a convenient one-night thing, and I’d never be able to just brush her off as if she were.