Page 124 of Severed Heart (The Ravenhood Legacy #2)

The facts are, once upon a short time ago, and only briefly, I had a family. A family I didn’t try or petition for but came together naturally—a gift. A gift that was promptly snatched right back like a favorite toy in cruel taunt.

“Christ,” I rasp out as I put the backhoe into gear and lower the bucket, fury driving me on as I head in the direction of the small house she made a home, intent on erasing it.

It’s the speeding car on the road next to me blurring into my periphery that has me halting the demolition and kicking back in the bucket seat to weigh going through with it.

Seconds later, Tobias pulls up right next to me, our eyes meeting from where I sit a few feet above in the tractor to his driver’s seat. I know the second he glances toward the house and back at me that he’s reading my intent, and I mutter a curse before exiting.

Sighing as he exits his newest Jag, I lean against the tractor as he approaches, noticing that the usual confidence in his gait is completely absent, and I know why. Right now, we’re in the same type of hell.

Two months after Tobias summoned Cecelia with an email to buy Horner Tech, Cecelia came, fought the good fight, and went.

To her utter detriment, Tobias did everything he could to see her out the door.

Despite my warnings and her attempts to salvage them, his fear won out.

It’s apparent it’s winning now as he approaches me, eyeing me intently.

“Don’t judge my actions,” I snap.

“Like I have any right,” he scoffs, relenting easily—too easily, and I hate it, missing my brother as I have since the night he was forever altered.

I want this fight. I’ve wanted it for years, but as it stands now, we both look and feel defeated.

“But know you’ll only destroy an empty home, not the memories. ”

I abandoned any life in Triple Falls years ago, including this place, but it’s always nagged at me that this house remains here, unoccupied.

“If it’s a mistake, I’ll learn from it after. Not in the mood to be preached to,” I relay. “Not today.”

“Understood,” he answers, his accent a little thicker due to the emotion emanating from him, which he’s doing nothing to hide. It dawns on me then.

“You’re finally going to her,” I state with an ironic shake of my head. It’s then I notice his dress, nothing but jeans and a T-shirt.

“I’m terrified she’ll take me back, but more terrified she won’t.”

“I hope she gives you hell,” I relay.

His eyes narrow on me. “You want me to suffer.”

“Some, but don’t forget that I washed my hands of this months ago.”

He scans the expansive farm, the hills and valleys for long seconds before he looks back to me, eyes misting. “Have you washed your hands of me, Tyler? Do you find me redeemable?”

“That’s up to you,” I dismiss.

“I miss the beginning,” he whispers, gaze and voice distant. “I would have done so many things differently.”

“I think we all would,” I relay truthfully.

“If I could go back, I would, Tyler, I would.” He looks over to me.

“And not just for myself,” he relays hoarsely, with no sort of manipulative preempt in the delivery.

He’s living in his mistakes, in his personal prison, and this is his first step in trying to break free.

He’s finally fucking ready. That truth angers me more than it relieves me.

Sensing my burgeoning disposition, he studies me carefully.

Stepping up to me, he lets me see his pain, his regret.

“Answer me, brother, please. Are we salvageable? But before you do, I came to tell you that I understand you more than I ever have. I understand”—he nods toward the house—“this. The why of it all in a way I never have before. That’s not a reason for you to forgive me, but I want you to know that much. ”

“So, what you’re really asking is that because I needed you, and you weren’t there, can I be the same prick to you?”

“I guess so,” he says, a tear shaking free and gliding down his cheek.

“And if you can be, I would deserve it.” He shakes his head.

“You know I love Cecelia, but you don’t know why.

We never shared those details, and I never asked what you had with Delphine, nor do I know of any memories you harbor.

I never let you share your happiness with me or fucking asked.

I never knew what this”—he gestures toward the house—“was like for you.”

“Heaven,” I manage around the burn in my throat. “Only miles away, it was, felt, seemed untouchable by the club, by everyone. Even by our war. During my time with her, I knew real peace.” I lick my lips and glance away. “I knew what it was to have a family ... until it was ripped away.”

Tobias stares at the front porch for long seconds. “You gave her that same happiness, family. Something she lacked in her own life, but you know that.”

I palm my neck and nod.

“Thank you for that, Tyler. Thank you for caring for her, for loving her. For not giving up on her, for being more her family than we were.”

“Well,” I say, tightening my gloves on my hands, “thanks for stopping by on the apology tour, but—”

“Goddamnit,” he steps up to me, and I react, landing a solid blow on his chin, with nothing behind it.

His head snaps right, but it doesn’t stop him as he crowds me, palming my shoulder, his eyes pleading.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Hear me, see me, and know I’m sincere.

I haven’t acted like a brother to you in so long, and I’m sorry.

I’m so fucking sorry.” He pulls me to him and keeps me there, his words coming out rapid but unrehearsed.

“As selfish as I’ve been, I need you just as much.

Have needed you, and now I need the one I trust the most on this earth to tell me that a life other than what we’re living is possible because I can’t take this reality any longer. ”

“For you,” I choke out, palming his back, “for you, you stupid son of a bitch, but not for me, and it’s all up to you.”

We break apart, and I run my glove along my jaw to wipe at the weakness lining it.

I swallow again, the heaviness in the air between us lifting substantially as my anger takes a back seat.

Glancing up and over, I gaze at my brother, who’s looking back at me with fresh eyes—new perspective. Who sees the man and not the boy.

“The life you get to live from here on out is entirely what you make of it once you reach her, T. There’s no quick fix. You decide. She decides, and then you decide the rest together. That’s all there is.”

He nods. “And for you?”

“I’m all booked up,” I sniff, unable to stand the sight of the house any longer. “But when it’s over, this is my future.” I gesture. “You have St. Jean de Luz, and I have this little piece of heaven to make whatever life I want after. Until then, I’m letting the earth swallow it up.”

He searches me for long minutes and sees my resolve. “When do you return to DC?”

“Tomorrow,” I answer.

He fingers the back pockets of his jeans. “Can I catch a ride with you?”

I draw my brows.

“I want to go to her with nothing but the clothes on my back. She deserves that.”

It’s admirable, considering the man’s fetishes for the finer things and the knowledge that he’s going to have to go without his little indulgences.

“Sure you can do without your morning espresso?” I tease.

“Fuck no, but for her,” he says, no humor in his voice, “I’ll do anything.”

“Know that I’ll so be the fly on the wall for this shit show, and I’ll be close if you need me,” I assure him. “Either of you.”

“I know that. I just don’t want you to resent me for it any longer,” he says.

“Something tells me I won’t,” I admit. “That’s if you do the work and finally get to the place of deserving her again.”

“I can’t live without her,” he whispers, his voice distant but filled with surety, “and I won’t.”

“That’s apparent.”

“No, Tyler.” His eyes lock with mine, and I take a step back at what I see. I’d read it all wrong. “I won’t live without her. If my decisions or this club cost her life...” He trails off, but his implication is clear, and he’s completely of sound mind.

“You’re serious?” I ask, though I know better.

“Before I take a step near her, I need your word that will remain the case.”

“Jesus Christ, T—”

“I don’t breathe a day without her, Tyler, fucking promise me. Promise me. I don’t last a minute past her last breath if it’s possible.”

Swallowing, I see his ask and his resolution.

It’s one thing about Tobias that can’t ever be bent or swayed or bartered.

Well, unless your name is Cecelia Horner.

She’s his only weakness, but his weakness is both damning and caustic, hence this request. But this is the nature of Tobias and his absolutes—of how his heart works, of his devotion.

I know this because I’m very much the same man in that respect.

I don’t bother to try and talk him out of it, and he’s all too aware of my capabilities.

“Can you live with it?” he asks.

The question is also pointless. He knows I can. That I’ve got capabilities others don’t. That compartmentalization is my biggest strength. That I grieve Delphine by choice. He’s well aware I can turn my emotions on and off like a switch under any circumstance and reads that truth in my return gaze.

“Promise me, Tyler. Promise me,” he prods, unrelenting in his quest. Knowing he won’t survive her loss, I bat away all emotion and flip that switch before reasoning through my decision for long minutes before answering.

“You have my word, brother.”

He nods, perfectly content with his decision, and adds another life-altering secret to my bill before turning back to me. “So, do you have another set of gloves?”

“I’m good, just let me . . .” I trail off as Tobias nods and steps back.