Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
ISLA
The door shut behind Julius, and the sound didn’t just echo, it lingered. Pressing itself into the walls, into my chest, into the space he had just occupied.
For a second, I genuinely thought the room tilted on its axis. The ground beneath me shifted in a way I couldn’t correct, couldn’t steady, couldn’t catch up to. It just kept going, with no end in sight.
I didn’t realize I was staring at the door until several minutes had passed.
Until the silence stretched so far it started to hurt.
Until I became aware of the fact that we may have lost him to this.
Finding out the paternity of the baby may have been less severe than what just occurred in this hospital room.
“He’s not okay,” I announced, wiping away my tears.
Kraven didn’t answer right away, and that alone told me everything I needed to know. He always had something to say when it came to his brother. Now he just stood there, watching the same door I was.
“No,” he agreed, “he’s not.”
“Are you okay?”
I swallowed, my fingers tightening slightly against the edge of the hospital bed. I tried to ground myself in something physical because everything else felt like it was slipping away, too fast, too far, and I feared I’d never be able to get it back.
“I’m not the one whose life has been ripped apart.”
“You pushed him,” I said.
“I told him the truth.”
“You didn’t just tell him the truth,” I countered. “You forced him to face something he wasn’t ready for.”
“He was never going to be ready for it, Isla.”
“That doesn’t mean you had to shove it in his face like that.”
“And what… you think letting him lose his shit would have been the better choice?”
“Yes,” I simply stated. “For five minutes maybe? Yeah, I do.”
“It wouldn’t have been five minutes. Trust me, the only reason he didn’t lose his shit was because of you and not wanting to cause you stress. It doesn’t mean it’s not coming, though.”
Silence fell again, but this time, it wasn’t empty. It was fully charged and rearing its ugly head.
“You still love him?”
I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?”
“The kind that matters right now.”
My chest tightened. I knew what he was implying, even if he wasn’t saying it outright. Kraven didn’t look away. He didn’t soften. He didn’t give me anything to hold on to.
What I felt for Julius wasn’t the same as what I felt for Kraven, and what I felt for Kraven wasn’t something I could explain without hurting Julius in the process.
I was tied to both of them, and in the aftermath of everything we had just learned, our lives shifted again, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with any of it.
“He’s breaking, Kraven.” I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t seen it in his eyes before he walked out. “You saw it too, I know you did.”
He nodded.
“You’re just going to let him walk out like that?”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, frustration creeping back in, not directed at me but present anyway. “Chase him? Force him to talk when he clearly doesn’t want to?”
“Yes.”
He stilled. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” I insisted. “If you don’t, he’s going to shut down completely, and you know that. You know how he is.”
Kraven exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over the back of his neck. “I also know that if I push him right now, he’ll swing, and I’m not talking about physically.”
“Then don’t push him. Just be there for him. I’m stuck here right now, so it has to be you.”
His eyes flicked back to meet mine. “You want me to go after him?”
I held his gaze. “Yes.”
JULIUS
I didn’t remember walking out of the hospital room. Not fully. It wasn’t in a way that felt clear or intentional. It wasn’t a conscious decision as I made my way outside the hospital. I needed air—fresh, clean air.
The moment I did, the air hit me differently. It was colder, sharper, like it cut through the fog in my head just enough to make everything feel louder, not quieter.
We’re not brothers.
The words hadn’t stopped. Not once. They just kept repeating, circling, digging deeper every time they came back around. Slicing into my skin, my heart, my soul. The truth was trying to force itself into something permanent, something I couldn’t ignore or push away, no matter how hard I tried.
I leaned back against the wall, setting a hand over my face, pressing my palm against my eyes as if I could block it all out or shut it off for just a second, but it didn’t work. It never did.
This wasn’t something I could escape or ignore. It wasn’t something I could fix or control. That was the hardest part for me. Every single one of those decisions had been built on the assumption that Kraven was my brother. That he was mine to protect. Mine to take responsibility for.
My family.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, pushing off the wall.
I needed movement, wanting something to burn off the energy. It was building under my skin. If I stayed still, if I let myself sit in the truth too long, I was going to break.
And I didn’t get that luxury.
KRAVEN
I didn’t move right away. Even after she said it, knowing she was right. Going after him meant I was going to see a version of him I didn’t know how to fight. She was watching me.
Waiting.
“Fine.” I pushed off the door. “I’ll go.”
Her shoulders dropped slightly with relief. It was what she needed right then, and I could do this for her and the baby. This wasn’t going to be easy, but nothing about my relationship with either of them ever was.
I stepped out into the hallway, the door closing softly behind me. It didn’t take long to find him. He always owned every space around him, whether he wanted to or not.
He was pacing, holding himself together by nothing but force.
“Julius.”
He didn’t stop. He didn’t turn. He didn’t acknowledge me.
I stepped closer. “Julius.”
This time, he did stop. Slowly and deliberately.
This is going to be a problem.
“What?” he bit out, flat and cold.
“We’re not done.”
“We are for tonight.”
“No,” I countered, shaking my head. “We’re not.”
He let out a quiet breath. “We’re not brothers,” he repeated, like it was his new mantra, testing me.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.” His eyes locked onto mine, focused, dangerous in a way that felt more familiar to me. “Whatever this is doing to you, it’s not the same thing it’s doing to me.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Then don’t act like you understand.”
“I understand enough. You always think you have to carry everything on your own.”
“That’s because I do.”
“No, you don’t. You have me. You have Isla. And soon, we’ll have a baby.”
“You guys keep throwing that ‘we’ word around like it’s supposed to solve everything.”
“What if it does?”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means…” I didn’t waver in speaking with conviction.
“What if we don’t find out who the father is?”