Page 28 of Last One Standing (Saint Brothers #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ANGEL

I’d realized Kona hadn’t taken his pills, and I didn’t want him to be in pain while he slept.

As I’d ascended the stairs, it had hit me how much Kona kept it together for Pika, just as I’d done for my brothers after my parents and sister were killed.

I’d needed to crack open, and it had taken me so long to do so.

Only once I’d done that had I been I able to heal. Kona needed that.

“The Baris family, that’s what was written on the entryway of the living room of their house.

They adopted me, Gabe, Shep, Nick, Noel, and Scarlett.

We were a big family and for a year, we were a happy one.

Our parents were killed and Scarlett was kidnapped, raped, and murdered by a group of rich, powerful, evil people. She was only sixteen.”

Kona gasped.

“Me and my brothers changed our name to Saint, tracked every single one of them down, and for years, on Christmas Eve, we killed until they were all gone.”

“Why Christmas Eve?” he asked.

“That’s when they murdered Scarlett.” I closed my eyes, trying to wash away the image of her battered body.

“It’s okay, Angel, you don’t have to tell me more.” Kona had sat up and was resting his hand atop mine.

“No, I do.” I swallowed loudly. “We were all consumed by rage for a while, but one night I heard crying. Nick was sitting outside, and in his hand was a family photo of all of us on adoption day. He fell apart. After that, Noel did. Then Shep and Gabe.”

“But not you.”

“Not for a long time. They were shattering in front of me, and I worried they would be lost in their grief and not see danger coming, so I stayed vigilant. I closed the safe door on my emotions and let my brothers crumble.”

“Not very healthy.”

I looked into Kona’s sweet eyes. “No, it’s not.”

“What happened then?”

“I was alone one night. It was years later. My brothers were off doing something—I can’t remember what.

I was sitting in my bedroom. I turned on the TV, and The Golden Girls came on.

A prickle of sadness was working overtime to wheedle its way through the sealed door because Scarlett, my parents, all of us loved that show, but I hadn’t watched it since they died. I avoided it at all costs.”

“It’s a great show.” He smiled softly.

“I tried to hit the button and change it, but I couldn’t. For the first time, I swore I felt them with me, hugging me, telling me to let go. Begging me.”

“Did you?”

“Like a dam broke. I sobbed for hours. It was so bad I stayed in my room the next day, telling my brothers I was sick so they wouldn’t see my swollen eyes.” I chuckled.

“How’d you feel after that?”

“Relieved.”

Kona’s brows pinched. “Relieved?”

“Before that moment, I didn’t think I’d really ever feel anything ever again. I loved my brothers, so I stayed strong for them. I convinced myself that was what my purpose was. When I finally grieved, I ripped off the Band-Aid so the wound could truly heal properly.”

Kona pursed his lips. “And you think I need to.”

“I know you do, Kona.” I flipped my hand and entwined our fingers. “You’re safe to do it now. I’ll watch over you, and so will my brothers. You can start the process of mourning all you’ve lost. You’ll never be able to move forward, not truly, until you do.”

“Angel,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry about your sister and parents. That’s horrific, I can’t think of a word that truly encompasses what happened to them.”

“Thank you.”

“I…” He sighed and blinked. “I wouldn’t even know how to crack open the shell around me.”

I nodded. “Talk about her. Talk about Leo.”

“To you?”

Shit . Was I making it seem like he had to confide in me? “Uh…”

Kona chuckled. “I’m not being confrontational, I’m asking. Can I tell you about my mom?” He scooted closer. “You’ll keep me safe if I crumble?”

“I promise.” And I meant it. Even if Kona was never vulnerable, I’d guard him with everything I had.

“She laughed at everything. Seriously. You know how some people cry when they are happy, sad, excited?”

“I do. Scarlett was like that.”

“Right, so you know how awkward it is. I have this memory of a neighbor coming by—Pam, I think her name was. Pam was telling my mom that her husband had passed away and how Pam found herself lonely a lot of the time. My mother, she started laughing. I knew this about her but still. Pam was so upset, I had to explain to her that it wasn’t personal. ”

I chuckled.

“My mom felt so bad afterward, she must have baked ten pies for the woman. One she even wrote ‘I’m so sorry’ on.” He sighed wistfully. “My mother tried for a year to get back in Pam’s good graces.”

“Did she?”

“No.” Kona snorted. “Pam died a year later in a car accident. When another neighbor came by to tell my mom…” He motioned with his hand.

“Oh no, she laughed?”

Kona touched his nose. “Bingo.”

We were both laughing. “I’m shocked you all didn’t pack up and leave due to the laughing scandal.”

Kona was laughing harder now, holding his ribs. I wanted to try and calm him down so he wouldn’t injure himself further, but then his shoulders began shaking for an entirely different reason. Kona Miller was cracking.

I didn’t think; I got up and moved to the other side of the bed. Just as I’d gotten close, Kona fell into my arms and sobbed.

It wasn’t loud, and I was sure it hurt, but he gripped the back of my shirt, buried his face into my chest, and cried; he let go. Kona was ripping off the Band-Aid.

Sometimes we buried things away so deep, covered them, and locked them away and we didn’t know how to get them out again.

I came to the conclusion that I’d skipped out on grieving my family, and when the first tendrils of it had poked through, instead of welcoming it I’d tried to fight it. Until I just hadn’t wanted to.

Kona had broken the shell he’d created and allowed me to be part of it. He gave himself permission to mourn, and me the honor to be here for it.

We didn’t talk anymore. I held Kona as tight as I could without hurting him and let him soak my shirt with his tears. I wasn’t sure how long it was after they’d begun to fall, but Kona quieted.

I peeked down at his face—it was still bruised, but he was getting better. His eyes were now swollen from crying, his cheeks were wet, and he was fast asleep.

He clung to me so tightly, I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to startle him once he woke to see me in his bed, but the way he was holding on to me, there was no way to shimmy out without waking him.

With a defeated sigh, I gave up. I’d stay awake to be alert when he opened his eyes. I could do that. I’d assured him I was merely there for comfort, and I’d leave the second I got an opening…yeah, there was no way he’d hold on all night. I’d get my chance to slip out. I just had to wait it out.