Chapter 8 Confession #4
“He’s right,” Thorne said, startling us both.
He was leaning in the living room’s doorway to the balcony, his arms crossed and expression thoughtful as he watched us.
“It’s just a pool, Arden. Those lights out there?
They’re just lights, not cameras.” He craned his head back and squinted up, “And somewhere up there past all that fucking pollution is a shit ton of stars. The world isn’t Viktor’s house, and life isn’t Halden’s compound. ”
Kane gave his brother a salute. Then he let go of my wrist and backed up several steps with a mischievous grin. I lurched out of the way as he launched himself forward, tucking into a ball and dropping down. “For Leah!” he shouted and whooped before slamming down into the deep end.
Thorne shucked off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. He stripped down to his boxers, giving me a playful wink before he jumped into the pool, shouting at the top of his lungs, “For Leah!”
Their heads broke the water, both of them laughing as they looked over to me.
“C’mon, little flame—ignite,” Thorne said with the brightest smile on his face that I’d seen in a long time. “What would Leah want for you?”
Tears streamed down my face as I took a few steps back.
“Uh-oh, she’s gearing up,” Kane announced and shoved his brother out of the way.
“For Leah,” I breathed and sprinted forward.
Thorne and Kane cheered wildly and a laugh cracked out of me as I flung across the pool, plunging down beneath the surface.
The water was freezing, shocking down into my bones as it swallowed me.
I let myself sink for a minute, blinking against the sting of the chlorine.
I could make out Thorne and Kane’s legs swishing in the water further out.
The water rippled as I dragged my hands down through it, the pressure harsh in my good ear.
Still, it was peaceful. They were right.
It wasn’t The Tank. We had the freedom to actually swim, to break the surface whenever we wanted or sink even deeper.
I let myself touch the very bottom, my lungs screaming as I swept my hand over the rough cement, looking up at where the moon glistened at the surface.
Leah would’ve loved it, sitting at the bottom of something so soundless, so seemingly vast and staring up at something equally as infinite.
My chest warmed as memories surged—not of her lying limp but of us scrubbing the floor at Viktor's estate, of her braiding my hair, of breaking into that car in the garage and wishing for a better life.
My chest warmed, some of the anger and grief subsiding enough to want to breathe.
I shot to the surface, gasping as my lungs filled with air.
Kane splashed toward me, and I laughed again.
Part of me felt guilty for letting myself feel any kind of happiness on the day Leah died, but I think grief is weird that way.
It’s incomprehensible, and so incomprehensible emotions often release when it happens.
I hated how Leah died, but I was desperate to latch to the pieces of her that were alive—pieces Viktor eventually hollowed out, as he did with all his children, but were beautiful when they’d existed.
Eventually, our legs tired, the three of us floated on our backs, holding hands, our heads bumping into each other.
We were quiet, relaxed, looking up at the stars—although looking back, I’m pretty sure they were just satellites and helicopters.
Thorne gave my hand a small tug, running his thumb over my palm.
“So, did you get it all out earlier? The screaming?”
I huffed. “Hardly.”
Another round of chuckles went through us, but they died out as a familiar tension strung through the air. It was the same that had haunted us since that day, the day they were forced to—the incident.
"I don't blame you," I said after a long while, their fingers grasping my hands a little tighter with the words. "And we don't need to talk about it. Let's just…be again. I've missed this. Missed us."
"Agreed," Kane said, his voice cracking.
Thorne ran his thumbs over my knuckles, but he kept quiet at the sound of the balcony door sliding open.
We sat up, treading water as Rafe stood in the doorway, frozen.
He had a beer in his hand, his tie loose around his neck and his jacket left behind.
The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, ink curling along his wrists.
He swallowed, looking between the three of us, before his eyes finally settled on me.
I felt faint at the eye contact. I’d spent so long avoiding him I’d forgotten just how Rafe Creed looked at me.
He had a way of staring so deeply that he could easily whittle his way back into my torn, jagged heart.
I quickly averted my gaze and repositioned on my back, kicking my legs and pushing myself into a floating position again.
Only a few seconds later, the balcony door slid closed.
I glanced over, finding Rafe gone, both Thorne and Kane whispering to one another.
I frowned. “No secrets in the pool,” I announced, stretching my arms and flapping them lightly like wings so I’d close the distance between us.
“Oh, really?” Kane asked, and I immediately started to backpedal.
“Brother secrets, I mean,” I stammered. “No whispering about me behind my back.”
Thorne swam to the edge of the pool, lifting himself out and settling on the edge. He leaned forward on his knees. “Arden, he tried. He did everything he could to save you and save your baby, to not have to—”
“Don’t,” I growled, cutting him off. I straightened and swam to the opposite end. “I think maybe it’s time I go back to bed. We don’t know what this Buyer has planned. We botched our last job. It doesn’t make sense that we're suddenly being treated to a penthouse.”
“While I agree,” Kane admitted, climbing the steps in the shallow end and shaking out his hair, “you’re also deflecting.”
“We have to talk about this, Arden. Maybe not the specifics, but at the very least the fact you won't even look at him,” Thorne pushed, standing from the edge as I wrung out my hair with a scowl. “Creed don’t attack each other. That was your rule back when Rafe didn’t know ASL. It still applies.”
I pressed my hands on my hips and sucked in a breath. “I’m not attacking him.”
“Maybe not physically or verbally, but ignoring him may be worse than both, and you know it. He would die for you in a heartbeat,” Kane said.
I rubbed my brow. “Look, I know you two mean well, but this is complicated. Being near Rafe just reminds me of what I can’t have and what I lost when I tried to have it anyway.
It’s painful. I physically lock down when he tries to interact with me, and that’s not good for us. I’ll get us killed if I don’t perform.”
They followed me as I walked back to my room, going straight for the fluffy robe hanging on the bathroom door.
I threw it on, turning back to find them crowding the balcony door, arms folded and their green eyes steady.
Damn them. They couldn’t be more different, but it was moments like that one where it showed they were related.
They could be stubborn as mules sometimes.
I tied the robe and leaned against the end of the bed. “You guys, please. Today has been a lot.”
“You realize he blames himself,” Thorne said, his voice low.
I frowned. “For what?”
“Everything, Arden,” he continued. “Every time you were sent to Room 82 because he didn’t understand a sign.
When you got pregnant, it didn’t matter if it was his or not, because he felt he was the reason.
Halden taking that form you? Then when we were all forced to—" He cut himself off, looking sick. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Rafe can’t forgive himself, and yeah, it’s not his fault.
It’s not yours, either. It was just a shit situation and really horrible fucking timing, but it doesn’t matter.
There’s a reason he hasn’t pushed back too hard about you punishing him; he thinks he deserves it. ”
“I’m not punishing him, or I wasn’t trying to,” I whispered hoarsely, but my heart had slowly sunk further with each of his words.
He was right. I’d been so blind to it, but now that Thorne had said it aloud, I realized every single word was true.
And those first days after? Rafe had tried to talk to me.
He finally had the ability to talk and I wouldn’t listen.
I covered my mouth. “Fuck,” I said. “Fuck. Why didn’t either of you tell me this sooner? ”
Kane’s expression hardened. “You wouldn’t let us.”
I looked to the door. “I have to—”
“Yeah. You do,” Thorne said. “Go.”