56. Declan #2
I stepped back and looked around. I hadn't been back since the day he’d gone to jail.
Being here now, though, was bringing all those memories back.
As I walked into the living room, I could still remember him physically striking me.
Yes, we’d wrestled over the years, especially as children.
I mean, what kind of boys didn't at least once? We’d practiced karate against each other, and as teenagers, we’d even sparred during Krav Maga.
That’d all been either training or in good fun. Never had he ever struck me in rage.
He'd been so angry too. I’d betrayed him, so I didn’t blame him. Still, it was a Brogan I’d never seen before, and one I never wanted to see again. As I stood right where he’d knocked me onto the floor, I shook my head.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing. In fact, I think this is a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come here—”
“Finally, something we can agree on,” I heard, and both Enslee and I tensed at the sound of Brogan’s voice.
It was laced with irritation, but damn if I didn’t want to hear it anyway.
I’d been so starved for a sighting of him or even the sound of his voice, so it didn’t even matter if it was directed at me in anger.
Enslee was not quite as enamored. Her eyes widened, and she definitely had that “deer caught in the headlights” look in them.
I turned and watched him fully step into the penthouse.
He looked straight past me at Enslee, then headed toward her.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he asked her.
“The m-meaning?” she stammered.
“You called him, didn’t you?”
She squared her shoulders, and I’d always admired the way she never backed down to either of us. “I think the two of you need to talk to one—”
“If I wanted to fucking talk to him, I would’ve picked up the phone and called him myself. Irritatingly persistent isn’t a compliment, for fuck’s sake. Why can’t you just leave well enough the fuck alone?”
“Hey, there’s no need to talk to her like that,” I interrupted.
Brogan turned to me and regarded me with as much interest as someone would a wad of gum on the ground. “Get the fuck out and take her with you.”
I growled, and while it used to have some sort of effect on him, it had little on him now.
Brogan walked to the refrigerator, pulled out a beer, then guzzled it down in just a few swigs.
His anger radiated off him. I supposed it was to be expected, not only because of me, but from having done whatever he’d done with his father.
“Did you visit Stanley?” I asked, and again, he said nothing.
I was watching him for any signs of instability.
I think he knew it, too, because he walked into the great room and over to the wall of windows.
As he stood there with his back turned to us, I watched him look out at the city.
The views were absolutely magnificent, and multiple memories came rushing back of the times when I’d fucked him against that very glass while staring out at the same view he now was.
When his body tensed, I wondered if he was inundated with the same memories, or had he blocked out everything about us.
It wouldn’t be the first time. After all, he’d blocked out the conversion therapy.
It hurt like hell to think our lives together might end up in that same category.
Enslee rose to her feet, and as she started to walk over to him, I quickly held my hand up to hold her back.
She’d been right. One of us needed to swallow our pride, so it’d be me.
I’d been the one to fuck everything up, so it was only fitting.
I was not only a people pleaser, but a bit of a pushover when it came to Brogan. He was the man I loved beyond all reason, and these last few weeks apart had been torture. Between his time in jail and now, I couldn't let this distance remain between us.
He said nothing to me as I approached until my shadow fell over his. He spun around quickly. “What part of get the fuck out did you not understand?”
“Baby, I—”
“And don’t you dare ‘baby’ me. Just fucking leave already.”
“No! We need to talk, Brogan. So much has happened, and—”
“There's nothing to talk about—”
“Brogan, I think you should let Declan—”
“This doesn't concern you,” Brogan countered to Enslee, and I growled.
“Don't talk to her like that.” He looked at me with disgust. It made the pain in my chest grow even deeper and stronger. “If you’d just let me tell you the truth, I’m sure—”
“Since when do you tell the truth? You're a fucking liar.”
Anger filled me. “That’s rich coming from you. We both know the one who lies is you.”
He blinked once or twice as if f he couldn't believe I called him out. “What the hell did I lie about?”
“You’d lied when you’d told me you couldn't breathe without me. Everything that night had been a lie, huh?”
“At the time, it was the truth. Who knew the air I’d been breathing had been so polluted?”
“Polluted?” I asked.
“With your lies… your betrayal…You’d stabbed me in the goddamn back, Declan. After, you’d lied about it and would’ve kept on lying had you not gotten caught.”
“I never actually lied about it. If you would’ve asked me, I would’ve—”