I grabbed the other half of the sandwich and ate it, ignoring the unbearable pain inside my chest. It hurt because it was true. It hurt because she’d barely hugged me back, and even when she did, it didn’t feel the same. It hurt because my betrayal really did change who she was. She was like a ghost, just a hazy outline of who she used to be.
Damien unlocked the door. “Do you like baseball, Heath?”
I already knew where this was going. He had a wooden bat with my name written all over it. “Just let me finish my sandwich.”
Sixteen
Catalina
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Anna sat next to me on the couch, her glass of wine in her slender fingers.
“Yeah. Why?” I turned to her, sipping from my glass.
“You just…seem sad.”
“I’m not sad,” I said defensively. “I’m not really anything.”
Anna watched me for a while, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “Damien has him in the house, in the basement.”
I didn’t ask if he was still alive. It made no difference either way.
“Doesn’t talk about it.”
Probably to protect her. “He’s hurt every single member of our family—including you. It’s time for retribution.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
A knock sounded at the door, a hard knock, like a man was on the other side.
“Expecting company?” Anna asked.
“No. It’s probably Damien.” I set the wine down and moved to the door. I didn’t look through the peephole before I opened it, expecting to come face-to-face with the man who shared my green eyes.
But it wasn’t him.
Balto stared at me on the threshold, wearing that exact same look of intensity that his brother had, expressing his unease with just his look, not needing words like most people did.
I was frozen, never expecting to see him again, never expecting to see Heath’s visage looking back at me.
His chest rose and fell deeply, like he was breathing hard, either from exertion or pain.
I didn’t know what to do. “Uh…”
He invited himself inside and slammed the door shut behind him.
“Oh my god…” Anna rose from the couch, probably assuming it was Heath because she didn’t realize he had a twin.
Balto’s eyes shifted to her. “Get the fuck out.”
Anna was still, her eyes shifting to me.
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
Balto stared at me. “I won’t hurt you…even though I’d like to.” His blue eyes burned deep into mine, full of violence, revenge, and everything in between.
Anna grabbed her purse and walked out.
When the door was shut behind her, I took a step back.
But he took a step forward. “Tell me where he is.”
“He’s not here…”
His nostrils flared as he released an aggressive sigh. “Obviously.”
I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Answer me.”
“No.” I shifted my gaze away, guilty for denying him when he’d been nothing but nice to me.
“Bitch.” He moved closer to me. “This is my brother. My family.”
“And he did terrible things to my family.” I turned back to him. “He gets what he deserves.”
“Deserves?” he whispered. “You’d be a slave if it weren’t for him. Or did you forget that?”
When I took a breath, my lungs hurt. “No. I saved his life when he went to collect money from Damien. We’re even.”
“Even?” he asked. “No, you’re not even. Slavery is much, much worse than death. I don’t need to explain that to you.” There were subtle differences between him and Heath, so insignificant no one would notice, except someone who knew them well…like me. “I understand what he did was wrong. Keeping it from you was also wrong.”
“He didn’t just keep it from me,” I snapped. “He made me fall in love with him when he knew what was going to happen. He dragged me along—and crushed me.” It was the first time I’d admitted it out loud, and it was the first time I’d felt an emotion other than rage since I confronted Heath.
Balto finally turned gentle. “I know. And he’s been fairly punished if he’s still alive.”
I dropped my eyes.
“This isn’t the answer.”
“He’s done terrible things to every single person in my family—”
“Before he met you. He’s different now. He’s a new man. I’ve known my brother my whole life. I’ve witnessed a change I didn’t think was possible. I’ve watched him become a good man—because of you. Let the past go.”
“He almost killed my father—”
“Almost,” he hissed. “He’s the fucking Skull King. Not Walt Disney.”
I sighed as I rolled my eyes.
“But he would never do anything to you or anyone you care about again. Tell me where the fuck he is.”
“It doesn’t matter. You can’t get inside.”
His eyes narrowed. “Try me.”
“He’s at my brother’s place. In his basement.”
His eyes started to soften with disappointment, and he released a deep breath of defeat. “I was hoping he would be somewhere else. Because you’re right, I can’t get inside.” He stepped back and turned his gaze to my living room, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Because that would require me to hurt Damien…and Heath would rather die than let that happen.” He turned back to me. “Because he loves you. And I’m disappointed you’ve forgotten that you love him too.”
It was strange to be in the house.
To be in the house where Heath was either in a cage…or a corpse.
I sat across from my father and tried to play the game, but that was difficult because all I could think about was Heath’s ghost.
“Sweetheart?”
I lifted my gaze to look at my father.
“It’s your turn.”
“I know. Just thinking.”
He pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch. “I’ve never seen you think this long.”
“Well, I want to win.”
He released his sleeve and rested his elbows on the table. “I have a feeling you aren’t thinking about the game.”
I dropped my gaze again, not wanting to discuss my feelings. Half of me wanted Heath dead, the other half wished I were dead instead. “I don’t want to talk about it, Daddy.”
“Alright. But I’m always here…even if it’s to talk about boys.”
I looked at him again.
“Your mother died too young
