I’m destructive by nature. Only this time, I’ve targeted myself, and that’s not who I am.
Like a rubber band snapping into place, I leap forward, and Breckin catches me. I seek and destroy things to make myself better and, as much as I will regret this, it will make me feel something else.
Breckin’s lips find mine in desperation as we crash into the wall. I grunt when my back connects. My fingers find his hair and pull him closer. As always, I’ve yanked him back in just as I think I finally have the chance to make him give up.
Yet here I am, using him and his body as a Band-Aid for everything I don’t want to feel. Because facing the truth of my reality—my mother’s betrayal, my father’s secrets, and my heartbreak—is too much for me to bear.
My hands drop to Breckin’s pants, and I flip open the button. I’m reaching into them and grabbing his hard cock when someone clears their throat behind him. Breckin has his gun out and pointed at Oren’s head before I can remove my hand.
Pulling out my hand, I shove Breckin away from me and meet Oren’s glare, giving him one in return.
“Get the fuck out,” Oren says to Breckin, never taking his amber eyes off of me. Breckin lowers his weapon and turns to me, waiting for me to tell Oren to leave instead.
“Leave, Breckin,” I say, not willing to glance at the pathetic look I know he’s giving me. In my periphery, I see him button his pants after tucking his gun into his waistband and scoffing. He shoulder collides with Oren as he walks out, not bothering to argue.
Oren quirks an eyebrow, no amusement on his usually cheeky face. I blow out a long breath and roll my eyes.
“Did my dad send you?” I ask, fixing my disheveled clothes.
“No, but it looks like I arrived right on time.” He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest and one ankle over the other. “Doubt you want him leeching off of you again.”
I snort, because if that isn’t the fucking truth. Me and my damn impulse control. Feeding Breckin any kind of kibble makes him hang around like the stray he is.
“What do you want, O?” I pick at my nails while asking the question in an attempt to seem bored.
“Your boy was suspended from the FBI the other day for beating the fuck out of Bastian.” My head snaps up. Oren smirks when he notices he has my full attention, and I narrow my eyes. “Boss has put me on bitch work since I played a part in his suspension.”
My body stiffens, and my fists clench at my sides. I’m ready to lunge forward and break Oren’s neck. I breathe out and force myself to relax, knowing I’m giving him the reaction that he wanted.
“He’s not mine, so if you don’t have anything to tell me that I will actually give a shit about, then you carry your ass out right behind the ogre.” I point a manicured nail in the direction that Breckin departed in.
Oren chuckles, and it’s almost enough to snap what little self-control I have left. I’m too wound up, and that’s not going to end well with the ball tonight.
“Funny.” He smiles. “He said the same thing about you.” Straightening from the wall, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an envelope, which he hands to me. “While I was filing old shit, I stumbled across this. I thought you may want to see it.”
I hesitate before taking it from his outstretched hand, then look at Oren. He dips his chin in encouragement, and I open the envelope to pull out the picture that is stuffed inside. My brows pinch together as I stare at the people in the photo, trying to process what the fuck I’m looking at.
I see long, curly, black pigtails pulled tight on a child’s head, which I recognize as myself from when I was around three or four years old. I’m wearing a pink dress in the photo, and I internally gag at the frill of the monstrosity I was put in. My dad stands tall, frozen in a laugh, and Donovan is latched on to his leg in a tailored suit that looks strange on a tiny child.
It’s not just the three of us in the photo, however.
Also frozen in laughter is a man slightly taller than my father, with eyes so blue they would be hard to miss through the tightness if they weren’t so vibrant.
I know those fucking eyes.
My gaze lands on a woman next to the man. She has naturally tan skin and is absolutely stunning. Her light-brown hair and pale-gold eyes are warm as she looks down at the children. A boy stands next to me and is kissing the side of my head in the photo. I laugh at the look of disgust on my face.
With tan skin like his mother and deep-brown hair like his father, he is the perfect mixture of his parents. I swallow through the lump in my throat as my eyes volley between every face in the picture, trying to come up with my own answers since I know my dad won’t tell me.
“Joseph and Nadya Brenner at their wedding.” Oren confirms what I’ve already put together. Liam favors his father as an adult, only showing similarities to his mother through his skin tone. “After finding that, I did more investigating to confirm who they are. Not that it isn’t obvious.”
“Why did you give this to me?” I rasp, swallowing once again to keep my throat from closing.
I spare Oren a glance, but quickly return my attention to the photo in my hand. Some things that didn’t make sense before are clicking into place as other questions are raised. I knew Liam when I was a child, but I was too young to remember.
He shrugs. “You and Liam have a weird connection. Judging by that picture, it seems the idiot has always been a bit obsessed with you.” A huge smile breaks across his face when I look at him. “He was suspended because he was defending your honor. The picture doesn’t give us the answers we’re all curious about, but it helps some of it make sense. We’ll see you tonight.”
Oren offers me a tight smile before he walks away.