He belonged to me now, and the only thing I cared about was making sure he fucking knew it—thateverybodyknew it.
The bottle in my hand made apopwhen I uncapped it, and I shook a couple of pain killers into my palm. I didn’t bother with water when I tossed them into the back of my throat and swallowed them with a single gulp.
“Rough night, Elijah?”
Our eyes met from across the table, and the disdain that lingered in his gaze almost made me laugh.
Almost.
I didn’t respect my brother enough to care about what he thought of me.
Dropping the bottle into the pocket of my sport’s jacket, I acted as though he hadn’t spoken. That only served to piss him off. Ezra was a fucking grenade, and it was anyone’s guess when he’d explode.
“Are you planning to ignore me for the rest of the evening?”
“I’ll stop fucking ignoring you when you say something that doesn’t piss me off.”
He couldn’t.
Ezra lived and breathed to aggravate me, and if it wouldn’t completely devastate my mother, I’d shoot him right here and now.
“You are such a—”
His mouth snapped shut, and for a minute I thought I’d witnessed a miracle.
Beneath his shirt, his shoulders tensed. It was a subtle correction of posture that anyone would have missed, but that innate gesture paired with a smile laced in overzealous flattery only meant one thing.
My mother was here.
Over my shoulder, I spotted her moving toward us, weaving through tables with an energy not all sixty-year-olds possessed. Her dark hair was pulled back into a twist like it always was, held together by a thin band of diamonds. The lines around her mouth smoothed when she smiled, lifting a hand in a feeble wave. Her heels were too tall, and they clapped when she walked, one foot in front of the other as if she was on a runaway somewhere and not in a 4-star restaurant in the heart of Seattle.
Ezra and I both stood as she approached, offering our cheeks when she reached for us. She came to me first, palming the sides of my head. Her light eyes were warm as they looked over me, dancing with affection.
“It’s good to see you, ma.”
“I’ve missed you.” She was careful when she pressed her lips against my cheek. “I love having both of my boys in one room.”
Ezra snorted, and it took all my self-control not to reach across the table and slam his head into the edge of it.
“Hush.” Mom greeted him with a kiss more chaste than mine, and I pulled out her seat for her. “I would think the two of you could pretend to like each other long enough to have a meal with your mother.”
Falsifying my like for Ezra felt a lot like getting my fingernails torn off, but for my mother, I’d endure it.
I had a fondness for her—an incalculable appreciation that didn’t extend to the man who sat parallel to me. My attendance tonight was a result of my devotion to her, and though she tried to ignore the tension that kept Ezra and I connected, I knew the hostility upset her.
“I was just checking on Elijah. He was taking pain killers a few minutes before you arrived.”
Christ. I wanted to strangle him.
“I’m fine, ma.” I returned to my seat and reached for my water goblet. “It’s just a migraine.”
“Is it, though?” Her lips turned downward, and she leaned forward to place her hand over mine. “I once knew of a man who was prone to migraines, and do you know what he had?Worms.Do you want worms in your brain, Elijah?”
My lips twitched against the rim of my glass. “No, ma’am.”
“Then do us all a favor and see a doctor.”
“I don’t have worms, ma. It’s just a migraine. I haven't been sleeping.”