“What hold does Edward have on your dad?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Dad said the less I know, the better. But it’s enough.”
His words sent a chill down my spine. “Enough what?”
“Enough for me to . . .” He couldn’t or wouldn’t finish his thought.
“Enough for you to marry Jill?”
He gave me a sad smile. “Don’t worry about me, Dani. You heal.”
Heal? “I don’t know if that’s possible.”
He took my hand and squeezed it. “I’ve never known anyone stronger than you. You’ve beaten incredible odds in your life. You’ll beat this too.” He tilted his head. “You don’t have to do it alone, though.”
I looked up to the steel beam ceiling. “I am alone,” I stammered.
“No you’re not,” Brock and Brant spoke in unison.
I looked between the men. My men, as I used to refer to them. It was all so screwed up now.
Brock took a step closer but maintained his distance. I think I frightened him. Or perhaps it was my unpleasant aroma.
Brant, on the other hand, drew me in for a long hug. “I’m here for you,” he whispered in my ear.
I sank against him. “I won’t put you in danger.”
He let out a long sigh. “Don’t worry about me.”
I could hear the trepidation in his voice. It was enough to put the fear of God in me. “I am worried about you. I will keep our secret.” My silence was all I had to offer him.
He pulled back, and relief and sorrow washed over his face. “Dani, I don’t expect you to. I . . . I wouldn’t ask for myself, but for your protection and for . . .”
“Jill?” I rankled.
“No. Someone much more precious to me.”
My eyes widened. “Kinsley,” I whispered.
He kissed my cheek without a word, giving me all the answer I needed. He stood and peered down at me. “I am sorry, Dani. If you need me, I will walk through whatever hell I have to, to be there for you. Just say the word.”
That meant more to me than he would ever know. But . . . “I won’t let you suffer because of me.”
“I’m afraid suffering is inevitable, but it will never be because of you.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure. I seem to have a knack for it,” my voice cracked. I didn’t dare look at Brock, but from the corner of my eye I could tell he’d moved closer to the bed.
Brant tipped my chin up with his finger, making sure his eyes could penetrate my own. “The only suffering you’ve ever caused is from you being so damn irresistible.” He smiled. “But it’s the best suffering any of us who are lucky enough to know you have ever endured.”
My lip twitched.
“I can’t wait for the day we all get to see you really smile again. It’s been far too long.”
“The same could be said for you.”
His finger dropped and he shrugged. “At least I knew what I was signing up for.”
“Did you really?”
“You should get some rest.” He was quick to change the subject.
I nodded, even though I had probably had too much rest. Still, I was tired. So tired.
Brant kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you later. Call me if you need me.”
I tugged the covers back up and leaned against my headboard. Brock’s gaze was fixed on me. I wondered why he had come in. Was he worried Brant and I would do something stupid? Or was he just worried? Whatever it was, it was unnerving the way his eyes seemed to go through me. I pulled my knees up to my chest. His mouth opened, and I waited anxiously for him to say some magic words that would make it all better. The words didn’t come, but when Brant walked past him, Brock reached out and drew his brother into an embrace.
Brant immediately threw his arms around his brother—his best friend and confidant.
I watched the brothers hold on to each other, tears streaming down my cheeks. It was raw and beautiful. A step toward reconciliation for the two. If there ever was a chance to tangibly touch love, this was it.
After several moments, Brock spoke the magic words. “I love you, brother. I am sorry.”
I placed my hand over my mouth, completely overcome.
Brant must have felt those same overwhelming feelings. He could barely choke out, “I’ve missed you.”
“We need to change that,” Brock responded to Brant before he zeroed in on me. “I need to make several changes.”
I bit my lip. I knew that look. And I wasn’t sure my heart could take it. I didn’t want him to fight for me. Not now. Not after I had given up and had nothing to offer. Didn’t he see it was impossible? We’d missed our chance. We were too broken. And I wasn’t sure a tool existed that could fix how dead I felt inside or how much we had hurt each other.