Chapter Eight #3
“The Bureau gave her new documents, a new life, and they did it because I asked them to,” I said, pointing my finger at my chest. “It was my decision, Trent. It’s the only thing that’s kept her alive thus far. It’s not that I didn’t trust you… I didn’t trust the variables.”
He laughed—short and ugly. “Oh, so now it’s the math. As if the people who love Olive and our misery are part of a fucking equation.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you thought, though! Tell me I’m wrong!” His hands were clenched, knuckles whitening. “You always fuckin’ do this, Tommy. You wrap up the hard shit in logic, so you don’t have to feel anything.”
“That’s not what this was.”
“You didn’t have to put us back together,” he said, pointing.
“You were on the East Coast while the twins asked Travis every day when Olive was coming home, and then why she wasn’t.
Do you have any idea what it’s like to hurt like that—grieving your father and having to hold it together for your kids as they realize death doesn’t follow the rules and that kids die too?
” he said, his voice ragged. He pointed to Travis.
“He does. It wasn’t you who had to pretend you didn’t see it when Falyn covered her mouth and cried herself to sleep so her husband wouldn’t ask her for the millionth time how he could help.
That was Taylor. You didn’t help Camille pour the whiskey down the sink before I drank it all.
You didn’t sit in my shop at three in the morning, staring at Olive’s drawings like they were the only thing you had left.
You didn’t take Taylor’s calls when he panicked every time Falyn shut down or spiraled or when she served him with fuckin’ divorce papers.
” Three times, he pounded his finger so hard into his chest I could hear it. “That was me!” he roared.
Trenton took a few breaths, willing himself to calm down, his next words softer and broken.
“You didn’t talk Tyler down when he called, frantic about Taylor, because he was afraid he was going to lose his twin who was in the darkest fucking place we’d ever seen him.
” He pointed to his chest again, looser as the exhaustion set in. “That was me.”
The sheen in his eyes made me hate myself, but I held it together.
“You think I didn’t understand that it hurt you? That you would grieve? I did. I thought about it all and still decided it was the best way to keep her safe.”
“She wasn’t yours to save!” he growled. Falyn stood up, touching his arm, and he forced himself to relax.
“You stole time, Tommy. You stole years,” he said, his voice breaking.
“Helping her pick out things for her dorm. Celebrating test scores and grades. Birthdays. Christmases. Thanksgiving. Finals. Her first love. You…” He shook his head, disgusted.
“You, who didn’t care if he had kids or not—who had one on accident, as a fucking oops—experienced those things instead of me.
Instead of Falyn. Instead of Shane and Liza.
Do you have a clue what that did to them?
They had to bury both their children. They almost got a divorce.
Falyn has filed for divorce! And you were just going to let Taylor lose the love of his life? ”
“Trenton!” Taylor yelled. “Enough!”
Falyn covered her mouth with the back of her fingers, her eyes wet.
Trenton realized he’d said too much and paused, his hands perched on his hips, staring at the floor.
He sniffed once. “Two and a half years of Olive’s life we’ll never get back.
I… Part of me fucking died with her, man.
I helped raise her. I promised to always keep her safe, and I thought I didn’t.
I thought I let her down,” he said, tears streaming down his face.
“All those tears, the whiskey, the fucking nights on my knees, praying to God, wondering why!” His entire body shook on the last word, his fists at his side, his face bright red, and the veins in his forehead and neck bulging.
“And for what?” he spat. “She’s still not safe. ”
Of everything Trenton said, that hurt the most. His words were indisputable. I’d made the decision to put my family through unimaginable pain, and here we were, positioning for war.
“Trent…”
“You dragged her away from us in the dark of night like a fucking thief, lied to us for years, listened passively while we drowned in grief, just to end up in a goddamn militia compound, hoping it’s enough,” he went on.
“So don’t stand there and tell me this was the cleanest option.
You didn’t betray us to save her. You changed us forever, destroyed your family, just to maybe, possibly delay what you knew was coming. ”
“I bought her time while we worked to neutralize the threat,” I said, my voice sounding more like begging than debate.
“No,” he shot back. “You bought convenience for the Bureau. It was easier. Cheaper. Less red tape. Go fuck yourself, Tommy, you selfish son-of-a-bitch.”
“Hey,” I growled.
“You didn’t have the right,” he said. “You were our brother before you were an agent, before you were the smartest guy in the room. You crossed the one line we can’t forgive, and you knew it when you did it. You don’t pick anything or anyone over family.”
“I did it for Olive, and if you’d take a second...”
“Did you?” He stepped back, dragging a hand over his face. “Did you even ask her if that’s what she wanted? If that’s how she wanted to live? You’ve always been the one who decides. The one who knows best. You’re the final say, huh, Tommy?”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling the blood in my veins begin to boil.
“After Mom died and Dad disappeared into a bottle, it fell to me. I learned early that you liking me couldn’t drive my decisions.
I was potty training Travis, walking you home from school, helping the twins with homework.
I took the blame every time one of you little shits broke something or put a hole in a wall doing something stupid.
When you skipped school. When you got into fights and came home with a black eye.
When you landed in detention. It was always because I wasn’t watching you closely enough.
” My jaw tightened. “I intervened and took punches for you when you couldn’t keep your mouths shut, when you were angry and looking for someone to take it out on because Mom was gone.
Every call from the school, every screw-up, every consequence landed on me—whether the decision was wrong, or whether it was right and you didn’t think it was fair.
I’ve always been the bad guy. The one you all pile onto.
The one you mock, roll your eyes at, blame—because I didn’t have anyone above me to take the hit.
“I didn’t have the luxury of skirting responsibility in all things because I was a kid, so fuck me if I’m that way as an adult, right?
” I stepped closer. “So yeah, Trent. I made the call. And I knew exactly what it would cost. I knew one day you’d hate me for it and I did it anyway.
Because if something happened to that little girl—your little girl—and I hadn’t acted, I would’ve had to own that too.
But I wasn’t willing to let it be the reason you lost her for real. ”
His eyes locked onto mine. “You don’t get to play the protective big brother right now. I did lose her for real. The only one who didn’t know that was you.”
Silence stretched between us, heavy and dangerous.