Page 118 of The Lies We Steal

That she would make it out of this with some sort of normalcy.

“The bed is clean and the door locks.” I stood from the chair, not being able to look at her for longer than a few moments. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything throughout the night.”

“Alistair?” She whispers, halting my stroll to the door with just the sound of her voice.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry.

As if this had been her fault. As if she could have possibly done anything to stop my brother. Even if she hadn’t fallen in my path, he still would have done this. Maybe even succeeded in his goal of making her his.

I shake my head, “Stop, this isn’t your fault. Don’t do that.” I let out a breath, “Dorian needs help. He’s fucked in the head. Don’t be sorry, you did nothing wrong.”

Tears stream down her freshly cleaned face, “I’m not sorry about him. I’m sorry about whatever it was that happened to you as children that made you two this way. That made you have to shoot your brother for me.”

I wanted to leave.

I should have left.

But I physically couldn’t stop myself from moving towards her. It was like gravity pulled me in her direction, refusing to let go until my hand cupped the side of her face, rubbing the tears away from her face.

“Technically, I didn’t shoot him,” I smile gently, “Silas did.”

A laugh that she probably didn’t expect escapes her throat, “You know what I meant.”

We stood there while I held her face, staring at one another and I thought about everything I’d done to her up to that point. How beneath it all, I was just attempting to destroy her because she represented what I could never have.

And similar to Dorian, if I couldn’t have her, no one could.

How right now, all I wanted was to really have her. Not just to toy with, more than a game. But I wanted to have her laughs.

I wanted to swallow them whole and see if they would heal all the rage in my soul. I wanted to bathe in the peace that came with being next to her after sex, when we’d draw lazy circles on each other’s bodies and nothing else mattered except the steady sound of her breath on my skin.

I knew her fear, but I wanted to know what drove her.

What made her smile, why she always wore the same pair of shoes, and what she wanted to be when she grew up. I wanted to be more than the man who scared her.

I wanted to be a man she could love even if I had no idea what that meant for me.

“Will you stay with me tonight? I…I just, I don’t—”

“Yes.” I don’t let her finish, she doesn’t need to.

She gets in the bed first, moving smoothly and quietly. Her long limbs trailing random patterns in the cotton waves, navigating the sea of navy-blue fabric with grace that reminded me a bit of a shark gliding effortlessly through the deep blue ocean.

I kicked my shoes off, reaching behind my head and removing my shirt, tossing it onto the floor and making my way onto my side of the bed. I shove the pillow under my head, laying on my side so we are staring at each other.

“I always wanted siblings.” She says, “Being an only child is lonely and I think that’s why it was so hard for me to make friends. I’ve always just felt alone and as weird as this sounds, I didn’t feel that way here. Even when you and your friends were being raging assholes.”

I chuckle, my chest vibrating with warmth.

“Siblings are overrated.” I joke. “I never really had a sibling either, not in the way most people do. I had a blood bound older brother, but that didn’t make us siblings.”

“But you have Rook, you have Thatcher, Silas.” She points out.

“Yeah. I do have them.”