Page 9 of Blood & Bond (The Bouchers #2)

“Well,” I mused. “Chance wouldn’t have wanted to get in trouble for startling his baby brother and getting him hurt.”

“Good point.” Ambrose grinned at me. “But Zeke was always getting hurt, so I don’t know that Chance would’ve gotten into trouble. One time, we were down at the river…”

Ambrose told stories for hours while Charlie lay across from us, soaking it all up.

He smiled and laughed and cried a little, but it felt like I was watching in real time as a little of my brother’s spark came back, if only for a little while.

I would never be able to pay Ambrose back for what he gave Charlie that night—a glimpse into the life of his mate that he’d never see.

More memories that he would’ve never had otherwise, even if those memories were second hand. It was such a gift.

I knew then that bringing Charlie to the Bouchers was the right choice. If Ambrose could give Charlie that, and he was just one person, maybe being surrounded by Zeke’s family could give him even more.

I stayed awake as long as I could, but the hum of their voices eventually lulled me to sleep. When I woke up a few hours later, the only light in the room filtered out of the bathroom doorway, and there was an arm draped over my waist. Across from me, Charlie’s bed was empty.

I shot up so fast that I made myself dizzy.

“He’s in the other room,” Ambrose told me softly. “He’s fine.”

“Why did he go in there?” I asked, glancing at the darkened doorway.

“I think he wanted some privacy.”

“Then you should’ve left,” I replied, turning to look at him. “That’s your room.”

“We wanted to let you sleep.”

“I was already asleep.”

“You wouldn’t have stayed that way if I left you,” he reminded me gently.

I let out a frustrated breath and looked at the doorway again.

If I listened carefully, I could hear my brother’s familiar snoring.

It wasn’t obnoxious or anything, at least I didn’t think so, but it had always been noticeable thanks to a deviated septum he’d had since we were kids when a bully broke his nose.

“Thanks for what you did earlier,” I said, keeping my voice low. “You know, the stories.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“They didn’t have enough time.” I sighed. “They didn’t get to make enough memories.”

“They didn’t,” Ambrose agreed, laying his hand on my back. “But I think that would’ve always been the case. It’s never enough.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I wish I could’ve seen them together,” he said with a sigh. “Just once.”

I glanced at my backpack.

“We all waited so long. It’s hard to explain. Humans fall in and out of love so easily?—”

“Hey,” I protested.

He let out a huff of laughter. “I just mean that there is one person for Vampires. One soul that is our perfect match. There is no good enough or okay for now . It’s that one or nothing.”

“Are you telling me you’re a virgin?” I gasped mockingly.

“Fuck no.” He poked me in the side. “I’ve had plenty of sex. I was having sex before your parents were born.”

“That is not the flex you think it is.”

He poked me in the side again.

“Don’t worry,” he said dryly. “I’ll know what I’m doing.”

“You seem pretty sure of that.”

“Positive.”

“For all you know, I’m into weird shit,” I countered, turning to face him. “I could want you to meow like a cat while you go down on me. I could ask you to lie perfectly still and play dead while I ride you.” I leaned down so I could see him clearly. “I could ask to paint your dick with hot sauce.”

Ambrose’s smile was so big it transformed his entire face. “Meow.”

The word was so surprising that I let out a loud bark of laughter. Slapping my hand over my mouth, I looked at the bedroom door and waited, but Charlie was still snoring.

“You’re a freak,” I whispered.

“You’re the one who wants to paint my dick with hot sauce,” he whispered back.

“That was an example.”

“It sounded like a fantasy.”

“Bullshit.”

“Baby, I’ll do whatever you want.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back up. Carefully, I swung my feet over the side of the bed and padded over to my bag.

It only took me a moment to find what I was looking for, and I carried it back over to Ambrose, crawling in beside him.

It was so dark in the room that I had to power up the camera by memory as I lay back until we were sharing his pillow.

“I’m going to leave the sound off,” I said softly as I scrolled backward through the photos until I got to the beginning. “I don’t want to wake Charlie up.”

“Oh.” Ambrose breathed as I stopped on the first photo I’d ever taken of Zeke and Charlie.

Zeke was standing behind my brother, his arms wrapped around Charlie’s chest, his chin resting on Charlie’s shoulder. Their heads were tilted toward each other so that their temples rested together. Both were grinning. Huge.

The next photo was the two of them walking down the street. Zeke’s hand rested on Charlie’s lower back, and Charlie’s head was turned, only half of his smile visible as he looked up at his mate.

The next photo was of the three of us. We were sitting on a grassy hill, lined up.

Charlie behind me with his arms around my shoulders.

Zeke behind him, with his arms the same on Charlie’s shoulders.

Our heads formed little steps from the left, first mine, then Charlie’s, then Zeke’s.

I was caught mid-word, and the other two were laughing.

I was pretty sure I remembered setting the timer, and I’d been telling them to smile or else, but I’d misjudged how long I had before the picture was taken.

Then another photo of Zeke and Charlie. Sitting on the same side of the table. Charlie is telling a story, and his hands are out in front of him, mid-movement. Zeke is looking intently over at Charlie, his gaze soft. No smile that time, but more intimate.

Ambrose let out a choked noise, but shook his head when I looked at him, so I kept going.

There were probably a hundred photos of the guys in my phone.

I’d been so determined to get a picture of everything we saw that I’d bought the camera the week before our trip.

I’d had no idea then that it would provide the only proof of my brother’s love story.

None of us had known then how short-lived our trio would be.

Eventually, we got to a short video I’d filmed of Charlie and Zeke.

We couldn’t hear their voices, but my breath caught as we watched them move across the screen.

They were roughhousing in a swimming pool.

Zeke lifted Charlie in the air and tossed him to the side.

My brother went under with a huge splash, and Zeke grinned proudly at me.

Seconds later, he disappeared under the water because Charlie had yanked his legs out from under him.

They came back up with a spray of water, both of them laughing hysterically.

Zeke reached out and cupped Charlie’s cheek affectionately.

Charlie turned and kissed Zeke’s palm. That’s when the video stopped.

Ambrose let out a shuddery breath beside me. I turned my head to look at him as he cleared his throat.

“Thank you,” he rasped. “If you—my parents would really love to see those, if you’d be willing to show them.”

“That’s up to Charlie,” I replied. “But I’m sure he’d be glad to. I have more, you know. That wasn’t the last one.”

“I think, uh, maybe later.”

“Okay,” I whispered, hitting the power button. I set the camera next to me on the bed.

The room was silent for a long time. Eventually, Ambrose’s hand found mine in the dark. When he threaded his fingers through mine, it didn’t even occur to me to pull away.

“I’m glad he had that,” he said softly. “Fuck, I’m really glad he had that.”

Eventually, his breathing grew slow and steady as he fell asleep, but I was wide awake for a long time.

I’d been very aware from the beginning how the loss of Zeke had affected Charlie, and even though I couldn’t understand it fully, I’d tried my best to be sensitive to the fact that his life had been devastated.

But it was almost embarrassing to admit, even silently to myself, that I hadn’t really considered how Zeke’s death had affected his brothers.

The same brothers who’d put their asses on the line to search for and protect a man they’d never met just because their brother had loved him.

I’d been suspicious and catty and sarcastic, and they must’ve hated me.

Maybe not Ambrose. I was Ambrose’s winning lottery ticket.

But the other brothers, Danny and that asshole, Chance.

They’d probably wanted to throttle me. They’d still been dealing with the loss of their baby brother when they’d decided to search for us, somehow found us when we were deliberately playing needle-in-a-haystack, and I’d refused to tell them where Charlie was and then tried to escape by climbing out a bathroom window.

I winced.

“Sleep, baby,” Ambrose ordered, rolling to his side. His arm wrapped around my middle, and his breath feathered across my neck. “Whatever you’re thinking about can wait until morning.”

I bristled at the order, but closed my eyes anyway. He was right. I could continue berating myself for being a colossal pain in the ass once the sun was up.