Page 43 of This Blood That Breaks Us (This Blood That Binds Us, #3)

Thirty-Six

Zach

We retreated into our room for the night. The party continued on in the foyer, but Luke was ready to turn in. I collapsed into an armchair by the fireplace and loosened my tie. All the alcohol and whatever was in that guy’s blood had worn off, and I felt empty again.

“Will’s pissed at me.”

“Is he mad because of the party?” Luke’s smile vanished.

“Nah, he’s not mad at you. Only me. Don’t worry.”

“He probably thinks we’re giving up.”

There was a pause as the fire cracked between us.

“Are we giving up?”

“You’re Luke Calem, giving up isn’t in your vocabulary. No, we’re adapting.”

“Right. And tomorrow, we’ll officially be a part of The Guard. Truth is . . . I’m kind of relieved. It feels right. I’ve been brought here, and I can do that and be good at it. I’m glad you never let me give up.”

“Me too.”

I’d fought this place with every fiber of my being, but I couldn’t fight fate and what we were destined to be. We’d been blinded by our own family and feelings. This was where we belonged. Will was wrong about me, and he was wrong about this. Luke could be happy here and so could I.

“No, I mean, all the times you didn’t let me give up on life. Like when we found out about Sarah.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Do you wanna know why I didn’t give up?”

“Because of Presley and Aaron.” Saying their names out loud felt odd. I didn’t feel connected to them anymore. At one point, they were the most important thing. Soon, their names would disappear like mine and all of our memories with it.

“No. Not them. I knew they’d be well taken care of.”

“Oh, so it was pity for me?”

“Not pity. It was because I thought of you and about how I wanted to see how you turned out with my own two eyes. You believed you were good for nothing, and I was excited to see me prove you wrong, then I’d rub it in your face. So every time I considered leaving, I thought, no. Because I hadn’t seen you realize it yet.”

There was a long silence, and my eyes felt wet.

“You thought of me?”

“Yep.” He smiled. “I’m still waiting on it.”

He stayed for me. Not our younger brothers or Mom. But for me. Luke—the one person who would never give up on me. I’d have never survived our dad and childhood without him. Because he was the better half of me, and he stayed positive and happy when I gave up.

People in the movies usually resented their brothers who were better than them at everything, but nothing could ever make me hate him. He saved me as a kid, and every day his heart kept beating, he convinced me each day would be better than the last.

Truthfully, I didn’t believe in any world where Luke didn’t exist beside me. It was a world I didn’t care to be in. Because Luke was a part of me that I feared died in childhood, and I was confident it had. And yet, I saw the thing I’d lost in him.

I thought I was doomed. All my brothers got that blond hair, and I got brown like my dad’s. There was a phase of my life where I’d had Mom buzz it all off so I didn’t have to look at it anymore. When I finally told Luke it bothered me, he spent every day for the next year reminding me of all the great people we knew with brown hair. He’d bring me clippings of magazines and encourage me to grow my hair out. All my life, my brother saw something in me no one else seemed to.

I couldn’t live without my brother. I was confident if he went, he’d take all the goodness and light with him, and I couldn’t make my own light no matter how hard I tried. No one else in my life could ever bring it back. Not my little brothers. Not my mom. Not even Ashley, who I’d have died for and still would. It was impossible to explain to anyone else. Maybe it was a twin thing.

My brother was my soulmate. We either existed together or not all.

“Fuck. Why would you tell me that now?”

“I don’t know. Just felt like I needed to. I don’t know what Ascension will bring, but I wanted you to know that I believe in you and that . . . I love you.” He smiled with a small shrug.

“Nothing bad is going to happen. It’s a blood ritual.” I realized the irony.

“I know. But still. I need to know that you know.”

“I know that you love me. And you know that I love you. We don’t have to keep saying it.”

Luke was the only person on the planet I didn’t have a hard time saying I love you to, but did we need to keep saying it over and over? It was pretty clear. Someone could turn him into an inanimate object, and I’d drag him around with me, but that was so fucking sappy I would never say that thought aloud.

He laughed. “It doesn’t give you that warm fuzzy feeling to hear?”

“I don’t need warm fuzzy feelings.”

“Sure you don’t.” His voice oozed sarcasm. “Speaking of, there’s one more thing I need to do.”

He got up from the chair and went for a dresser, then came back with a notepad and pen.

“Brace yourself, this is going to hurt.”

“What are you doing?”

“Writing a letter to Presley and Aaron.”

Luke sighed as he put the pen to paper.

“Why?”

“Because I need to say all the things I wished I’d said, and then I can let go. Then I can forget.”

I nodded and watched him in the dim light of the fire. He wasn’t kidding. That shit did hurt. Every word he added to that page, my stomach dropped. When Luke shed a tear, I closed my eyes and squeezed my nose. Sometimes, inflicting pain helped me stomach it. It wasn’t enough. Tears fell from my eyes, and I rushed to catch them.

“Do you want to write one?”

“No.” The answer to that question was easy.

I’d said goodbye to my brothers a long time ago and prepared myself silently for the day we’d have to leave. Even after Luke decided that last time we’d try to escape Blackheart, I knew it wouldn’t work. It never did. It almost felt like relief to see Ezra come through the trees with my confirmation that all my theories were correct, and it was proved yet again when Ezra and Sirius showed up in the tunnels. This was our destiny, and I’d fought it for him because he deserved better.

But he could make a difference in our new family too. He could bring light to more people who needed him.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he moved toward the fire and held the paper close.

“I don’t know. I don’t want anyone to find it. Burning it seems right.”

And with that, the piece of paper fell into the fireplace along with any lingering hopes of seeing our family again.