Page 72 of Unlocked Dive

“Gabe’s in SF? Today?” Holy shit, I’d love to see the look on his face if I introduced him to Byrd. Bringing Byrd home to LA is probably out of the question at this point, given my dad’s current attitude, but meeting up with Gabe and casually showing my man off a little?

“Tell him to come by the hotel when you drop me off.”

“No.”

“What? Why not? I wanna rub Byrd in his face.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw, c’mon. You’ve seen Byrd. He’s exactly Gabe’s type—all chiseled and stoic.” Maybe it’s petty little-brother bullshit, but making Gabe envious is one of my favorite skills.

It’s not like I’ve ever been able to make him proud.

“Jericho. Stop.”

Jericho. Shit, he’s breaking out the big guns. Of course, all it does is make me more curious. Especially when the next thing out of his mouth is “Byrd has no interest in meeting Gabriel.”

“Because I told him what a dick Gabe can be?” I scoff.

“You told him—?” He hides a snort in his napkin.

“Of course. But Byrd’s a gentleman. He’s nice to everybody. He won’t let Gabe get under his skin.”

My dad sobers, eyes flashing a warning I still don’t understand. “Stay away from your brother this weekend,” he says. “And keep Byrd away from him too. Please trust me on this.”

“But why? I know your relationship with him is complicated, but you’ve never tried to keep us apart before.” That was always my mom’s job.

“Because I don’t trust him with you. Now leave it alone.”

“Are you shitting me?” No way I’m letting that declaration slide. “What the fuck are you talking about, you don’t trust him with me?”

He leans back, pinching the bridge of his nose like he can stem the authority draining from his posture. A cold rush of apprehension washes through me at the sudden exhaustion on his face.

“Dad. What are you talking about?” I push my half-eaten bluefin away and lean toward him, the meal turning sour in my stomach when he won’t meet my eyes. My fists clench in the white linen, and he looks up in time to catch my beer before it topples.

“How much do you remember about your accident?”

“I—” It’s dark behind my eyelids, but pain is a red tide under my skin. “What does that have to do with Gabe?”

Are you scared, little brother? Let’s see this famous trick.

The same eyes I see in the mirror every day hold mine, and in a burst of cruel insight, I recognize the stark awareness buried in the blue depths before he speaks.

“Maybe nothing. But it’s possible that Gabriel…adjusted the mat the day you fell. I can’t be sure, since he was the only one with you in the studio, but he’s always been jealous of you. And the circumstances are suspicious enough that…” He trails off as I shake my head, struggling to draw breath through the horror blooming bitter in my chest. “Youneverfall.”

I never fall. Until I did.

“So you understand why Byrd won’t want to meet him. And why we both think you should take care around him in the future.”

“Wait. You’re saying you toldByrd,five minutes after meeting him, that you think my own brother tried to destroy me? But you couldn’t tellmesometime in the last, I don’t know, nine months? Gabe was at the fucking hospital, for Christ’s sake. And at the house over the holidays. If you had all these suspicions, why didn’t you say something then?”

“Immediately after the accident, I wasn’t thinking clearly about anything but you. And later…Maybe I thought you’d been through enough. Maybe I didn’t want to believe one of my sons could be capable of such a thing.”

“But you were fine letting me think it was my own fault? That I’d fucked up and this”—I slam my hand down on the table between us, palm up so the broken wings are visible—“was some kind of punishment?”

“I had no idea you blamed yourself.” He reaches for my hand, but I snatch it back and bury my fist in my lap. “You wouldn’ttalkto us. You hid yourself in the studio and told us you were fine.”

“I wasn’tfine.”