Chapter 73

My hands shook something fierce as I set the lit cigarette between my lips. I needed a fucking break. Thankfully, Mom didn’t push too hard as I sat in the backyard alone to smoke. It was better than fucking drinking—though I wanted to do that too.

I tipped my head back against the plastic lawn chair and sighed. Fuck. I was a fucking mess. I wanted to say it felt better now that they knew, but it didn’t. Not really. Alone, hopeless, and angry. None of that fucking changed.

I didn’t move as Declan joined me, stretching out in the chair next to me. He crossed his arms and stared out into the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to apologize for feeling like crap,” he said.

“No, I’m sorry I answered the phone.”

“I’m not,” Declan replied. I rolled my head to stare at him. “I mean that. I’m not.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because for all the fucked up shit that goes on between us, Killian, you’re still my brother, and I love you,” he stated like it was as simple as that.

“Why?” Maybe it was a dumb question, but I couldn’t help it. The words were out of my mouth before I could do a damn thing to stop them.

“Because you were born, fucker,” he said, and I snorted. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You’re my brother, I love you, and you just have to deal with that.”

“I’m still fucking sorry. It wasn’t…” Fair? That wasn’t the right fucking word. I didn’t know what to say.

“Killian, if you ever need to talk or need someone to just sit with you, you know you can call me, right?” Declan asked. I just grunted in response. “I think we forget that humans like wolves are social creatures. We were born to be together. We were born to survive together. Somewhere along the way, as a society, we forgot that our mental health is just as important as food and shelter and all that shit. We can’t survive if we don’t take care of our mental health. It’s okay to need other people. It’s okay to need help. That’s part of surviving. We’re meant to do that together.”

“Yeah, but do you do that for yourself? Because the Declan I grew up with never relied on anyone.”

“I’m sure as hell trying,” he told me honestly. “It’s hard as fuck. Raven reminds me it doesn’t make me less to slow down and take care of my anxiety. It doesn’t somehow make me less than I am to say I’m struggling. She says it takes courage to tell her or Cade those things. I guess what I’m saying is that it doesn’t make you less… anything because you’re struggling, Killian.”

“It fucking feels like it,” I admitted.

“I know. But we won’t think less of you. It doesn’t make us want you around less. If anything, we’ll be there to hold you up until you can stand on your own again. We’re in this together.”

“Does that count toward my job?” I asked. Probably shouldn’t have. I really didn’t want the fucking answer. I wasn’t sure I could handle the fucking answer right now.

“What do you mean?” Declan replied.

“Come on, Dec.” I sighed. “We both know you think less of me because of what I fucking do. Maybe it’s not my fucking mental health you’ll hold against me, but it still fucking counts.”

Not-entirely-sober-me was saying the shit I didn’t want to say otherwise.

“I don’t think less of you.”

“Can you be honest with me? Please? I can’t fucking handle the back-and-forth bullshit. I get it. My job isn’t fucking normal. And I know I don’t meet your standards of… well, everything.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled. “I don’t think less of you. Surprised by it? Yeah, I fucking am. But I’m also worried about what it’ll do to you. Killing people… that’s not normal. It’s not healthy. And when you talk about it… it’s like it doesn’t faze you in the least.”

“Benjamin Carter was a fucking troll—an actual fucking troll—who used magic to make him look human and worked as a school teacher. He kidnapped girls between four and eight years old. When he was done torturing them for over a week, he’d cut out their organs to eat them and leave their bodies in the middle of the road,” I snapped. “Should I be sorry I tracked him down and killed him?”

“That’s…”

“Fucking horrifying,” I finished for him. “Jason Wyland was a wolf shifter who kidnapped people, turned them, and forced them to kill each other. If they refused, he’d go after their families and turn their children. Should I be sorry for killing him?

“Martin Grue was an ogre who kidnapped young women and kept them alive for weeks while chopping them up little-by-little—while they were fucking conscious mind you—to eat them. Do I need to feel bad for fucking killing him?”

“Okay, you made your point.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Fuck. I don’t want to hear more.”

“I remember the ten people I killed, but they weren’t really fucking people, Declan,” I said angrily. “They may have passed as human, but they were fucking monsters. Yeah, the fucking hunter hadn’t done shit, but I’m not sorry. My job is to protect people, and I’m damn good at it. I have to do this job. I don’t fucking care if I sold my goddamn soul to do it. I’ll pay the fucking price.”

“Because you couldn’t protect them,” he whispered. I stared at him, his words halting the rant in my head. “You do this because you couldn’t protect Ginny and you couldn’t protect your son, am I right?”

“No,” I lied, but he was fucking right. I couldn’t fucking protect Genevieve from everything she went through, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could’ve done to protect my son. It wasn’t fucking fair. I didn’t like being helpless.

This job—no matter what the proverbial cost on my goddamn soul—I could protect people. I could keep them from getting hurt or worse.

“You’re a shit liar,” Declan commented.

“And you’re too damn observant for your own good,” I shot back. “Want to fight about it?”

“Nah,” he chuckled, “I’m not in the mood to kick your ass.”

“Fat fucking chance.” Still, I fucking smiled. We fell into a comfortable silence. I tossed away the butt of my cigarette and immediately lit another one. I needed something to do with my hands—something to do with the rampant energy trading places with my drunken state. I blew out a huff of smoke. “Hey, Dec?”

“Yeah?” Declan replied.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”