Page 20 of Blood & Bond (The Bouchers #2)

“It’s one of the first coins ever minted in the United States,” Ambrose explained.

“My father knew that it was a piece of history, so he held on to it. He told us he won it in a game of cards, but it was probably much more boring than that. Eventually, he gave it to Zeke, and by then, the coins were pretty much obsolete. They’d been replaced by others. ”

“You’re rich,” I told Charlie, wiggling my eyebrows at him as I poked him in the thigh with my toes.

“It’s not like I’d ever sell it,” Charlie countered, shoving my foot away.

“You’re wealthy without the coin,” Ambrose interrupted, a small smile playing on his lips. “Everything Zeke’s is yours now.”

“What?” Charlie stuttered, pushing himself up on the bed.

“You’re his mate, Charlie,” Ambrose replied. “Everything Zeke owned became yours the moment you completed the bond.”

Charlie shook his head. “But we weren’t married.”

“Marriage is a human construct,” Ambrose said dismissively. “We follow Vampire law.”

“Oh my god,” Charlie whispered.

“What?” I asked, glancing between them.

“Our family is wealthy,” Ambrose said with a wink. “Zeke was filthy rich.”

“He said he always knew what stocks to buy,” Charlie said dazedly.

“This is wealthy ?” I asked doubtfully, waving my arm around.

“In comparison, yes,” Ambrose replied.

I flopped down next to my brother. “Well, I want a Range Rover,” I ordered imperiously to the ceiling.

“With floral seat covers and vents that smell like sunshine.” I turned to look at him, and his eyes were still blank with shock.

“Also, I’d like one of those castle bouncy houses with the slide.

I always wanted those, and no time like the present. ”

“I’m not buying you a bouncy house,” Charlie replied, finally snapping out of it.

“But you’ll get the Range Rover?”

“You’re such a mooch.”

“Better a mooch than a scrooge,” I countered. “I want the Range Rover to be white.”

“Dream on,” he replied drolly.

“G-Wagon?” I asked hopefully.

“Get the fuck outta here.” Charlie laughed, flicking me in the forehead.

I grinned back at him. Seeing the real Charlie shining through was such a gift—much better than a Range Rover. Though I’d still love one of those. Who wouldn’t?

We hadn’t even had a car growing up. I’d learned to drive as an adult.

Ambrose had disappeared out of the doorway at some point, but I didn’t think he’d gone far.

“You smell like Zeke,” I told Charlie softly, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“I used his shampoo,” he replied just as quietly. “It doesn’t smell the same on me.”

“Yeah, it does,” I argued.

He just shook his head.

“I bet he’s really happy we’re here.” I rolled to face him and curled my hands under my cheek. “He was so insistent that we find his family.”

“Do you think he knew he wasn’t coming back?” Charlie asked, his eyes welling with tears.

“I think he would’ve done anything to get back to you,” I replied, not quite answering the question.

I wasn’t sure if Zeke had known that he was going to die, but I had a feeling that he knew it was a strong possibility.

He wouldn’t have made Charlie memorize the message to his family otherwise.

Zeke wouldn’t have even put that idea into my brother’s head unless he’d felt like he had to.

“I miss him so much it hurts,” Charlie confessed. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“Just hold on a little longer,” I ordered gently, reaching out to grip the hand he’d pulled beneath his chin. “It’ll get better.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “But I know it will. You just have to give it some time.”

My brother’s lips trembled as he nodded.

“I’m the third wheel now,” Charlie said. “Is this how you felt when I met Zeke?”

“I was the front wheel,” I countered. “Arguably the most important, so I didn’t let it bother me that there were two of you following me around.”

He let out a watery chuckle.

“It wasn’t the same,” I said with a sigh. “I wasn’t grieving when you met Zeke. I was on an adventure with my big brother.”

“We had a good time, huh?”

“The best time.” I squeezed his hand. “Do you remember when that bird shit on Zeke in the park?”

Charlie let out a bark of laughter.

“That was the highlight of the trip,” I continued, lifting my hand to sweep it down the back of my head, and then putting it in front of my face with an exaggerated expression of disgust. I deepened my voice. “What in the absolute fuck?”

I cackled.

“Oh god,” Charlie wheezed, crying and laughing at the same time. “He was so upset.”

“He was pissed at that bird,” I corrected, raising my eyebrows. “It was lucky it had wings and could fly away.”

Charlie’s entire body shook.

“He wasn’t even embarrassed!” I exclaimed. “He was offended .”

“How…how dare that bird shit on him,” Charlie added, hiccuping. The half laughter gradually turned into gut-wrenching sobs.

I crawled closer and pressed my cheek to the top of his head, my arms pulling him as close as I could get him with the quilt between us. My breath came out in choked gasps as I cried, trying to comfort him.

There was no soothing it. There was nothing I could do or say.

My shy, sweet brother had never felt like he belonged anywhere until he’d met Zeke.

He’d been drifting through life with me as his only anchor until he’d met his mate.

I’d seen the way he lit up in Zeke’s presence, like he’d finally found his place, and now that was gone.

He wasn’t even drifting anymore. He was slowly breaking apart while I watched.

I wasn’t sure how long I could keep him anchored.

When I raised my head, Ambrose was standing in the doorway, his gaze soft. He gave me a shallow nod and swung the door mostly closed between us. The light in the main room shut off.

Eventually, Charlie cried himself to sleep, his face pressed against Zeke’s quilt. I carefully disengaged from him and pulled the comforter over him before shuffling out of the bedroom. I wasn’t sure when I’d ever felt so weary.

The weight of it all was suffocating.

“Hey, baby,” Ambrose said, sitting up as I walked toward the couch.

“Have you been here the whole time?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“I didn’t want to go far in case you needed me,” he replied, pulling me down to lie beside him. “Did he finally fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” I breathed as my body molded into his.

“Good.”

“I’m not sure what to do,” I confessed.

“You’re doing it,” he assured me, running his fingers through my hair.

“I don’t think it’s enough,” I whispered tiredly.

“It’s enough for tonight.” His lips found my forehead in the dark. “You can do it again tomorrow.”

It didn’t take long before the steady rhythm of his breathing lulled me to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I was sprawled out on top of Ambrose, and there was a large wet spot on his shirt where I’d drooled.

“Shit.”

“You slept hard,” he said in amusement.

Of course he’d woken up before me. Wiping the leftover drool from my cheek, I pushed myself up until I could see over the back of the couch.

“He hasn’t come out yet,” Ambrose informed me. “But he took a shower a little while ago.”

“Great,” I mumbled as I stood up and stretched.

I really needed to put on a frigging bra.

I’d been flitting around without one since the night we’d left the hotel, and it was starting to get annoying.

Usually, I preferred to go without a bra, but it wasn’t exactly practical.

My boobs weren’t huge, but they weren’t tiny either.

The difference when I wasn’t wearing one was noticeable. “I need to shower too.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Ambrose teased, still laying back on the couch as he watched me.

I glared and turned my head to the side to smell my armpit. “Still fresh as a daisy,” I countered, making his eyes light up as he laughed.

“What would you have done if you weren’t?” he asked curiously, sitting up.

“I don’t know,” I replied, glancing at the closed bedroom door. “Passed out from the stench?”

Ambrose chuckled. “Well, you still smell fine,” he said, running his hand over my ass.

“Charlie?” I called.

My brother opened the door fully dressed.

“I’m going to go shower,” I said, pointing at the door with my thumb. “Cool?”

“Have at it,” he replied with a shooing motion.

Like he hadn’t terrified me the night before when he sobbed himself to sleep.

I rolled my eyes and headed for the door, pausing in the hallway.

“Lead the way,” I ordered Ambrose. “I don’t remember where your room is.”

“The wings all look really similar,” he replied, taking my hand as he went downstairs. “These stairs are directly across from ours. You just have to go through the living area.”

“Right,” I said as the sound of voices drifted over from the kitchen.

“We’ll be down in a while,” he said.

“Who are you talking to?” I asked, hurrying to catch up to him.

“My dad said my mom made breakfast.”

“Because it’s not weird at all that you have conversations across the house without raising your voices,” I said as we climbed the stairs.

“I don’t even think about it,” he replied. “When I was a kid, I forgot that my mom couldn’t hear us, though. Got me in trouble a few times when I was really little, and I assumed she heard me when I went to play outside.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. I only made that mistake twice.”

“Twice?”

“The first time, they reminded me that I had to go to her and make sure she heard me. The second time my dad spanked my ass.”

I grimaced.

Ambrose shrugged. “It worked. I didn’t ever forget again.”

“So if I want you to remember something, I should just slap you. Good to know,” I said sarcastically.

Ambrose pulled me into his room and closed the door, pressing me against it.

“When I grew up, going outside alone was dangerous. Going outside without either of my parents knowing? Even more so. In my father’s eyes, corporal punishment was preferable to a dead son. You disagree?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, staring at his mouth. “I hear you.”