“Goddamn it. How did I not see that?"
“I mean, he's white and I'm beautifully melanated, so I can see how our closeness was misinterpreted. Why would you assume I was shagging him though?"
“Do you have any idea that your brother is very intense about you and your safety?"
I shrugged. “Yeah. It's annoying."
"Why is that?"
"After our mum and dad died, he took it on to be my protector. He's essentially all I have left. And he takes it very seriously. Too seriously. I know he's looking out for me, but sometimes it feels like he's smothering me."
His voice went quiet. "How did your parents die?"
As usual, the pain wrapped around my heart and squeezed. But maybe, just maybe this time it didn't squeeze so hard that I couldn't even breathe. "Bomb."
"What?" His brows furrowed as if there was no way he'd heard correctly.
"They were killed by a bomb."
“I was expecting you to say something like an accident, or one from cancer and the other one from something else. Bomb was the last thing I expected you to say."
“Yeah. It's shocking for sure."
"What happened?"
I'd already told him this whole story. I'd already shared all of these details with him the night we met. And maybe that's what made it easier to talk about the second time around. Knowing that he'd already heard it. He just didn't know he'd heard it.
"They were visiting me at school. I had wanted one normal experience at uni, the whole bit. My parents at graduation." I shook my head. “If I hadn't insisted that they come, they wouldn't have exposed themselves."
“I know I wasn't there, but I really doubt that it was your fault."
“I know. You sound like all the shrinks that Gabe hired. Hell, you sound like Gabe. But I can't help but think if I hadn't insisted, would they still be here?"
"Speaking as someone who does this shit to themselves all the time, I'm going to tell you what everyone tells me. Well everyone but my parents. This isn't your fault. Things happen, but no one deserves bad things happening to them."
And I knew he would say that. It's what he’d said the last time.
“Yeah, I know. It's hard to shake though."
He ran his hands through his hair. "Up until two weeks ago, I thought I was responsible for my brother's death."
I furrowed my brow. "What?" That was one of the things we bonded over, both feeling responsible for the deaths of people we loved. "What happened two weeks ago?"
“Your brother dropped a bomb on me the day after you and I met."
"He did?"
“Yeah. He told me that Charlie had been a Rogues agent."
"Jesus."
“Yeah. And the night he died in a car crash wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate."
My heart sank. My stomach cramped. "Oh, for fuck’s sake. Lock, I'm so sorry."
All he did was nod and keep his eyes on his beer bottle as he shredded the paper label. “I guess I was meant to be collateral damage, but I survived with barely a scar."
I knew exactly where those tiny scars were. Along his back and his shoulders. I knew he'd covered them up with tattoos. But I couldn't tell him that I knew that.