Chapter Thirty-Five

T he next morning , after signing the papers with Ryan and setting up my temporary office, I drive back to the cemetery. I wasn't here for the funeral, and that regret eats at me daily. The grey cloudy sky holds as I lay my jacket down and kneel before his headstone, setting my cell phone down after hitting play on Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here."

"Dominic, do you have any idea how hard it is for a twenty-six-year-old white woman in a power suit to get weed in this town? The discrimination is real, my love." I pull one of the joints I rolled from my pocket before adjusting myself on my jacket. "And you thought I was guilty of judging by appearance. People practically ran from me." I let out a laugh. "And then I remembered you mentioning Wayne from the deli. Nice guy. Still works there." I fire it up and take a long pull as the music lulls me into a more peaceful state.

For endless minutes I recall the rainy days we spent in his bed reading, the flash of teeth he gave me when he knew no one was looking. The soul he revealed to me in bits and pieces capable of something more. The longer I dwell where he rests, the more I become convinced he knew his time on earth would be short.

We both know I was never going to make it to thirty, brother. Take care of her.

He knew.

"What do you want for the future?"

"Nothing."

He refused to let himself hope for anything. A true soldier, he wanted as few people as possible mourning him. And he'd let me love him. I was the girl honored enough to get close to him in a way few others did.

I reach out and palm the freezing stone. "God, I miss you. I miss you all the time. I'll hear a song you played for me or read something good, and you're the first person I want to tell." Unable to handle the sting any longer, I let the tears fall at will.

"Motherfucker or not, I saw you. I saw you. I knew you. And I grieve for you every damn day. You lose, Dominic, because there's not a day that goes by that I don't mourn you." I hiccup, my chest burning as I finally put a voice to years of pain. "Why? Why couldn't you just wait for help?"

Breaking apart, the bitter wind adds a sting to the tears on my cheeks as more fall. It's then I perk up with realization. I've felt it enough times to know, and it's undeniable, tangible, it's distinctly him.

"I know you're there," I say, taking one last drag of the joint before tossing it into the grass and standing. I turn to feel the inevitable jolt the minute I see Tobias just outside of the gate, watching me. It's evident he's been there a while, his face tinged red by the wind. The sight of him agonizing. He looks every bit like the polished man I met. Volatile amber eyes rest over the smooth planes of his face, his square jaw set. His thick, ink-colored hair is swept back, not one lock out of place. His suit cloaked by a long grey trench coat and leather gloves. Do I still know him? Every bit of our eye exchange tells me I do, but that he will never admit it.

We stare off for endless seconds before I finally speak. "You want to know why I'm here?" I turn back to the grave. "I never left."

The gate squeaks as he walks through and stands next to me to peer down to where Dominic lies. And for several minutes, I know our collective thoughts are all about him and the moments before he left us.

Raw ache spreads through my chest as I try to imagine what it was like for Tobias to bury his brother. As I try to imagine the crowd of people I grew to love all those years ago, who were gathered here collectively mourning his passing; it was something I was deprived of.

"I have to believe that forgiveness is possible, because if I don't, if I don't...Tobias, I won't be able to live like this, I can't live like this anymore. I want so much to make peace with the na?ve girl I was. Not to blame myself for what happened but—"

He shakes his head as if to refute the idea.

"I want so much to move on as you all seem to have," I admit. "I do, but it's been impossible for me. I never got the chance to say goodbye," I say, choking on my words.

Briefly, his stare flits with emotion before his expression grows cold and unforgiving. It's everything I expected and nothing I would ever want.

"I'm here for the same reason you are. To mourn him. To miss him. I have a right to be here." His empty stare rips me to shreds. Part of me wants to retreat safely back into the life I had just days before, to beg Collin to forgive me, and take back the future I destroyed, but I know better. And the reason is standing in front of me, a shell of the man I once knew.

"You need to go home, Cecelia."

I huff, gathering my jacket from the ground and sliding it on. "You should know that's the last thing I'll do."

"You never could make things easy."

"So, we are blaming me?" I take a step toward him, and his nostrils flare as though the mere scent of me is repulsive. I take that hit to the chest, knowing I may never get more than this.

"I should have been the one to die that night," I press, "do you hate me because I didn't?"

"I don't blame anyone but Dominic for his decision."

"I don't think you mean that."

"I do. It's not your fault. But I say a lot of things I don't mean when you're around me. That stops the second you see yourself out."

To be so close to him now without touching him is devastating. In a matter of minutes, the longing I've felt for years intensifies ten-fold as I linger in my own manicured shell, holding onto the high for the split second he allows us in close proximity. He feels it too. I know he does. I lost my heart the minute we connected on a molecular level. Somewhere between the games we played and the love I gave him, I lost a lot more.

One mistake, one night, it cost us all.

It's clear he doesn't trust me. Maybe he thinks I have an agenda.

And to a point, I do.

But it's obvious now that agenda was the same pathetic attempt to liberate myself from his hold. And all of that hope disappears the longer he glares at me, the more I become swept up in his volatile depths. He taught me everything I know. And together, he and his brothers taught me love in every degree.

But this man hosts the hottest fire.

I'll love him my whole life, and I'll despise him too for what he took away, for the way he discarded me, shunned me, cast me out. And I allowed it because of the price he paid, but I've been paying too, and it's time he knows it. I turn and face him fully.

"I loved him."

He drops his gaze. "I know."

"But not the way I loved you."

His eyes snap to mine. I know it's not the time, but I have no idea if I'll ever get the chance again. I never told him, not once, but I'm now in the business of truth. I have absolutely nothing left to lose.

"And whether that matters or not, I deserve to grieve him. And I deserve answers from you."

"I don't want you here."

"Have you ever?"

He averts his gaze, and I catch his eyes. "How about we blame the fucking secrets. Because those seem to have done the most damage."

He turns on his wingtips and crashes through the gate, and I follow hot on his heels. "You denied me all of it! All of it! I deserve this damn conversation, Tobias! And I'm not leav—"

He closes the door to his newer model Jaguar, and in seconds he's tearing out of the parking lot. I race after him, scrambling to start my Audi. When I gun it out of the parking lot, I swear I feel the presence of a cool dark cloud envelop me. Tobias shoots down the road, trying to outrun the past, our mistakes, me, and I stay on his tail before I gun past him over double yellow lines, and my lips lift in victory.

"Should have bought an Audi," I snark, speeding well past his view and gaining good ground. Banking on him following on the straightaway, I go wide, giving myself great lengths before I slow bank on the shoulder and pull the emergency brake, correcting the wheel, so we're head-to-head. In seconds he's racing into view and slams on his brakes coming feet from killing us both. He gapes at me through the windshield, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Like that? Your little brother taught me that hat trick. Your move ."

He glares at me for another second before pulling onto the shoulder and flying out of his car. The minute I'm out of my door, his hands shoot out, and he grips my upper arms, anger rolling off him. "Are you out of your fucking mind? You could have killed us both!"

"Well then, I'd guess I'd be putting us both out of our misery," I retort.

"Whatever you're thinking about, forget it." He's so close that I can feel the fabric of his jacket. His smell invades my nose, and nostalgia hits like a lightning bolt, but I remain defiant.

"I can't forget it."

"You need to go back to your life."

"Just talk to me, that's all I want."

"I'm going to say this once. That was then . There is no now."

He releases me as if touching me burns him.

"You're still the same smug, obnoxious, overbearing bastard you always were."

"No." His tone is acidic. "I'm much worse , and I always get my way. You might remember a lot, but you seem to have forgotten that."

He turns on his Italian leathers and walks back toward his car.

"You lured me here with that offer. You knew I would eventually want to rid myself of the burden when you didn't make good on taking it from him. Why didn't you go after him?"

He pauses his walk and turns to me. "What does it matter? It's mine now."

"God, you're ridiculous. You must hate the fact that I've grown up, and I won't be manipulated by you ever again."

"I got what I wanted. So, your point is moot."

"Not entirely," I taunt. "I'm holding you up to your end until you give me the answers I deserve. I've lived in the dark long enough."

We face off just feet apart, and I know he sees the resignation in my face. "Just go home, Cecelia." He ducks into his car, slamming his door before he speeds off.