Page 21 of We Are Yours

My lips were about to move. For the first time, silence wasn’t my resolve; it was my affliction. My mouth opened at the same time that Julius’s footsteps walked into the kitchen behind me. His stare was focused solely on the recipe book, too, narrowing tightly like he was fighting some sort of déjà vu.

Right in front of me, two brothers waged war with demons I couldn’t see, only felt. I was caught in the crossfire between the past and the present. The scent of spaghetti filled the room, simply adding more anguish to a situation I wished I hadn’t started. This was all my fault.

Julius walked toward the oven, opening it to take out the garlic bread. He set it on the stove and then grabbed the recipe book.

Glancing at Kraven before meeting my eyes, he asked, “Where did you find this?”

I nodded to the garage.

In two strides, Kraven snatched the book out of his brother’s hand. His silence was louder than any yelling he could have been doing, while his movements were precise and calculated.

Still not uttering a word, he lifted the pot and bread.

We both knew what he was about to do as Julius stressed, “Kraven, don’t?—”

With one hard toss, he threw it in the garbage. The sound of metal clashing against the can echoed through the kitchen. I couldn’t help but shudder. It was such a loud statement. The recipe book was next. Kraven didn’t hesitate, not for one second. In a harsh, brutal gesture, he slammed that book into the trash as if it were a final nail in the coffin.

I felt like I meddled with something so sacred yet so broken.

His chest heaved as he spun to face me. “That book should have stayed buried, and if you don’t get out of my fucking face,” Kraven roared, “you’re going to be next, Isla.”

I sucked in a breath as Julius stepped out in front of me. Once again taking the bullet meant for me, he shielded me from the agony I unknowingly inflicted on both of them.

I learned that night that Julius could hide his emotions, while Kraven let his emotions eat him alive. At some point, Julius must have told him my name because this was the first time he used it.

“Every time you stand in front of her,” Kraven seethed at Julius, “you’re turning your back on me.”

Julius stayed quiet. I hated that I kept causing this rift between them. All they had were each other before I came along, and now, I was causing this major divide.

Neither said anything else.

I guess neither had to.

Kraven backed away and abruptly left, never looking at me again. His footsteps clung heavily the farther they ricocheted down the hall and up the stairs.

I’d forever be the spark that ignited the fire of their heated flame. This wasn’t how I expected this night to go. It was like I couldn’t do anything right when it came to their relationship. Except they weren’t just friends, they were family.

Brothers.

Blood was supposed to be thicker than water, and I was proving to be the weight that tipped the scales of how far you’d go for loyalty and friendship. Julius was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I had no one else to fall back on. From the looks of it, neither did Kraven. I was taking away the only consistency they had—each other.

I had no choice but to stay there, continuing to break their bond, and that was the hardest pill to swallow. If I left, Julius would try to find me, and he’d blame Kraven for it, further escalating their issues. Leaving wouldn’t help, but staying wouldn’t either. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place too.

Julius and Kraven.

I was always the one trapped in the middle, torn between the good guy and the bad boy.

After Kraven slammed his bedroom door, jarring the walls, Julius and I locked stares.

In one simple affirmation, he stated, “You didn’t know, Isla.”

I still didn’t.

Though feeling it made it much worse.

With that, Julius went to the garbage can, pulled out the recipe book, and retrieved the pot of spaghetti. He uncovered the pot and set it on the counter, then threw the recipe book back in the trash. I watched as he served himself a plate, serving me one as well.

He handed it to me, his gaze pleading to accept. Of course I did. I’d do anything for him. I owed him that. He led the way to the dining table, and we sat beside one another.