Chapter 22
This is dangerous
Dina
Connor smells different from his brother, his cologne woodsy, heavier. Or maybe it only strikes me as heavier than Declan’s because Declan’s energy is calmer, more stable. Or maybe it’s the topics we’re discussing.
“My mother left me when I was a teen,” I tell Connor when he sits down. She might still be out there somewhere, but Dad and I buried her after she disappeared. He visits an empty grave. That comforts him. Poor Dad never remarried, said she was the love of his life, and you only get one of those.
Sergei wasn’t mine. Maybe mine is Chi-chi. Maybe I only get to love my daughter.
I stand by the fireplace, looking for Declan inside the house. He might’ve gone to grab another drink.
Connor puffs on his cigar, making smoke circles as he exhales. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Did she die or…?”
“She kissed me good night, went on a cruise, and never came back.”
“Abandonment.”
I think I need more than a beer tonight.
“Dec sent your family on a cruise.”
“Yes, he did.”
“How does that make you feel?”
I frown. “It brings back memories of my mom and prods my abandonment issues, but Chi-chi loves me and will return, as will my dad for the same reason. Thank you for asking, therapist.”
Connor smiles. He has a dimple. Declan doesn’t. “Do you remember her?”
I nod.
“Nice memories?”
“Yeah. She used to braid my hair every morning for school. She was also a teacher like my dad.”
“Sounds very ordinary. Average teacher. Average family.”
“It was. It is. We are average.”
Connor throws his cigar into the pit. “Declan likes average. He thinks that if he can keep the monster at bay, he will be average. An ordinary citizen.”
“And you?”
“I try too. But we couldn’t be average even if we wanted to. Even at work, Declan is not average. Declan is superb. I know he thinks he butchered this job with our dad, but it’s one of his best.”
“You love your brother.”
Connor snickers. “Love? I wouldn’t call it that.”
“What would you call it?”
“Declan doesn’t count. He’s… He just is. There. With me. Always. Constant. Even when he trained for ninjitsu, he took me with him to the temple in the middle of fucking nowhere.”
Ninjitsu? As in ninja? They were assassins, weren’t they? I turn my head to see if Declan will join us again.
“He’s not coming back out,” Connor says.
“Oh.”
“He probably won’t talk to me for a week now.”
“Why not?”
“Because I made you parent me.”
I frown. “Parent you?”
“Feel sorry for me. Hug me. Mommy me.”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No. Feeling sympathy for someone’s loss and hugging a person when I feel they could use a hug is not parenting them.”
“Declan thinks it is. He doesn’t want your hugs.
Or your pity.” Connor pours his drink into the fire.
“And neither do I.” He pulls out a gun and taps my forehead with it.
“I love nobody. My brother doesn’t count in the love equation because he’s the constant in my life.
He’s the only one who is always going to be around for me.
And I will always be around for him. I would do anything for Declan.
Anything at all. Including the things he must do but can’t do himself. ”
I don’t breathe. He doesn’t strike me as someone who bluffs. His blue eyes are cold, devoid of humanity, telling me he could pull the trigger and not feel remorse. Connor Crossbow is his father’s son.
“You’re a coward,” I say.
Connor’s eyes widen.
“That’s right. I said it.” I had no idea a bottle of beer and a cigar would make me suicidal, but they did, and I can’t stop.
“You could push back against the label your parents gave you. You don’t have to accept their failed and faulty rhetoric.
I’m not telling you to go do good and be good, but don’t make excuses for yourself either.
I don’t care either way. You point that thing at me and tell me you’re doing it for your brother.
You have no idea what Dec and I went through when he was injured, with the whole city looking for him.
And he placed his trust in a stranger. He didn’t have to.
He could’ve shot me when we got to my apartment. He didn’t. You know why?”
Connor shakes his head.
“Me either, but since he spared me, I did my best to keep him alive. You can call me stupid if you like, but you can’t tell me you can’t trust me. Or that I’m not a woman of my word.”
Connor steps away and drops his hand. He smiles, a genuine smile, showing both dimples, not just one. “Don’t sweat it. I believe you. I just wanted to see how serious Declan was about you.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Connor doesn’t get to answer because Declan flies out of the house and tackles his brother. The men roll on the concrete and brawl with fists and fury as if they’re really fighting.
Blood splatters from a lip.
Oh my God, they are fighting for real!
“Stop,” I scream when a shirtsleeve tears. “Stop that!”
But they don’t, and since they’re both wearing black clothes and it’s dark outside, they’re just a mash of dark figures punching and grunting and rolling on the floor. I can’t tell them apart.
They roll near the pool.
A gun falls out.
I rush to grab it so nobody gets shot in a fit of rage. The golden grip tells me it’s Connor’s pistol. I point into the air and fire two shots.
The men pause. I think it’s Declan who has Connor pinned, but with bloody faces, it’s impossible to tell. I walk up to the pair of them, press my bare foot on Declan’s shoulder, and push. Hard. They say a woman is strong in her hips and legs. They’re right.
The men fall into the pool.
I’m done here.