He turns to face me, his eyes pure sincerity. “Dom is the only person in my entire life I can count on. I don’t know how much he’s told you about parts of our childhood . . .”
“Enough to understand what you’re saying.”
“He told you? About . . . that?”
It’s like he can’t say the words, and I just want to jump up and hug him tight. But I don’t. “He did,” I whisper.
He heaves another breath. “He bore the brunt of our dad’s problems. He was the one that couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t stand to see the damage the next morning. Dom feels things more than I do, I guess. Or maybe he paid more attention or was around more because he was younger.”
His head hangs. “I should’ve protected him. That night, I—”
“Nate.” I wait for him to look at me. When he does, his eyes about slaughter me. “Nothing that your dad did was your fault. And what happened that night was a terrible accident that neither of you wanted but happened anyway.”
“He’s never been the same, Priss. There’s been a piece of Dominic that’s been a little untouchable since that gun went off. Like . . . it’s like something happened when that trigger was pulled that made him feel . . . less. Dirty. He’s carried that shit around ever since.” He makes sure I’m listening before continuing. “Only recently have I caught glimpses of the brother I used to know.”
“Nate . . .”
“It’s true. As much of a badass as he is, he’s been on this mental island since all that went down. But he’s starting to let you in.”
Tears flood my eyes.
“If you’re going to cry, we’re done here,” he jokes, standing up straight. “Where’s my kid?”
“Follow me.” I wipe my cheeks dry with the back of my hand and lead Nate down the hallway. I prop the guest room door open.
Nate and I stand in the doorway and watch Ryder curled up in a ball in the center of the bed, snoring softly. A juice box that we picked up at the grocery store is on the bedside table.
“I’ve never slept that well in my entire life,” Nate whispers. “Just look at him.”
“He’s a sweet boy.”
“When I was that age, I’d put a chair in front of my door when I went to bed in case it was the night my father would come for me for my ass-whippin’.”
My hand rests on his arm, tears coming back to my eyes again.
“It never happened at night. But I never had a night where I didn’t fear it.”
“I can’t imagine that. I hate you had to go through that.”
“I don’t.” He looks down at me, his eyes a little greener than his brother’s. “It made me who I am. It made Dominic who he is too. Do I wonder what it feels like to be Ryder right now? Sure. But the fact that he’s not living like that is what’s important.”
“You’re kind of philosophical,” I say, trying to break the moment.
He chuckles quietly. “Sure.”
“You know what? Why don’t you let Ryder just sleep here tonight? I’ll feed him some sugary breakfast and bring him home wound for sound in the morning.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But let’s let him sleep.”
Nate searches my eyes, looking for something he must find because he eventually nods and pulls the door closed. As we make our way back down the hallway, he starts laughing.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. Just thank you.”
“For what?”