But it wasn’t about me.
“So what, Vaughn? I’m just supposed to apologize and move on? Leave him to figure things out with Violet on his own?” I huffed. I pushed past my brother, but predictably, he grabbed my arm.
“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. Don’t put fucking words in my mouth. But he’s”—Vaughn motioned in the direction of the living room—“not alone. He has me, Aleks, Ronan—”
“Remy chose me,” I blasted back because I was sick of hearing Ronan’s name when it came to Remy.
Vaughn stilled and his expression went from frustration to confusion. “Luca, tell me you didn’t bring him here because you—”
“Don’t,” I snarled as I got into my brother’s face. “It isn’t like that, and fuck you for thinking so little of me… brother,” I bit out.
“Can you blame me?” Vaughn responded, unfazed by my fury. “After what you tried to do to Aleks?”
He might as well have shoved a knife in my gut. I’d regretted the plan I’d had for Aleks, but I’d been desperate to find Gio. I’d apologized to Vaughn and Aleks both, but to have Vaughn throw it back in my face… it was proof that I hadn’t earned back his trust.
Maybe I never could.
But for him to think I’d brought Remy here just so I could take advantage of him?
“James,” Aleks interrupted, his voice quiet and mixed with what sounded a little bit like disappointment. I’d only heard him call my brother by his first name on a few occasions, but it never failed to catch me off guard.
Until now.
Now I was just too fucking pissed to care.
Aleks was standing on the other side of the counter with Remy right behind him. Remy was holding a quiet Violet. I had no idea how much the younger men had heard, but it didn’t matter. I just needed to get the hell away from Vaughn before we once again came to blows.
I shoved past my brother and bit out, “Make your own damn breakfast and then get the fuck out.” I carefully moved past Aleks who reached out to touch my arm. I heard him say my name with regret, but I just shook my head. I needed to lick my wounds in private. I didn’t dare look at Remy as I walked past him too, even though I knew it would likely be the last time I saw him.
As I headed toward my bedroom, I told myself it was better this way… that Remy would get the help he needed, and he’d get it from people who cared about him and would be there for him beyond whatever happened with the little girl he cared so much about.
That’s what I told myself, but fuck if there wasn’t another louder, more insistent voice in my head that kept repeating one word over and over… a word that proved that maybe my brother wasn’t as far off the mark as I would have liked.
Mine.
Chapter Eleven
Remy
I didn’t feel as bad about entering his room when I found him on the balcony once again smoking. I chose to believe he hadn’t heard my soft knocks rather than ignoring them altogether.
Violet was quiet in my arms, as she had been since Vaughn and Luca’s blow-up in the kitchen. She was toying with Luca’s keychain.
Unlike the night before, Luca was standing close to the railing of the balcony. In fact, he was leaning against it and was staring down at the traffic below. He looked tense, of course, but I wasn’t sure how much of that was from his aversion to heights versus his argument with his brother.
I hadn’t heard Vaughn and Luca’s entire conversation, but what I had heard was still disturbing as hell, especially the part about Vaughn’s accusation that Luca had done something to Aleks.
When Luca came back into the bedroom, he looked pale.
And surprised to see me.
But his expression quickly hardened as he said, “You’re still here” and then went to the closet on the far side of the room. He removed his gun from the back of his waistband and set it on one of the closet shelves before he began stripping off his shirt. It was all I could do not to stare at his muscled back. His moves were quick and efficient as he tugged on another crisp white shirt. I wondered if he even owned any other colors or any clothes that weren’t dressy.
“Vaughn and Aleks are waiting downstairs,” I said, carefully watching his reaction. I swore I saw him pause in the act of buttoning up his shirt sleeves. “I asked them to wait ten minutes for me.”
“You can ask Terrence to help you pack Violet’s things and get them downstairs. Terrence is the guard by the front door.”
The indifferent dismissal was answer enough, but instead of sending me for the door, it had me stepping closer to him.