She doesn't answer, but she doesn't need to. The truth she can't admit is written all over her face.
"I'm so sorry, Dove... This is all my fault..."
Hurriedly, my friend puts the bandage back in its place, placing the sunglasses on top of her nose.
"You can't tell anyone," she begs. "Please."
"Why not?" I demand. "If he did this to you, he deserves to be punished."
"You don't know..." she mutters, shaking her head. "I have to go. I have an appointment with a plastic surgeon to see what he can fix."
"Dove..." I'm running out of words to tell her how sorry I am for bringing Parker into her life. "I'm... I'm so..."
"Just don't tell anyone," she mutters, checking to make sure no one saw our interaction. "I have to go, or I'll be late. Don't tell anyone, June."
"I'll check in with you soon," I say. She nods and disappears down the street while Kade and I stare after her.
"I'm going to fucking kill him," Kade finally says. "He's dead meat."
"I have to go back home," I mutter.
"You won't be alone with him, will you? I should come with you. I can protect—"
"No," I reply firmly. "I need to talk to Parker alone first."
"That's fucking stupid," Kade hisses. "He'll hurt you."
"Why are you so fucking convinced I can't take care of myself?" I demand. "I've done alright so far, haven't I?"
"June, I'm just trying to—"
"Well, don't," I cut him off, motioning to the limo that's just pulled up to the curb. "And don't think I've forgotten what you've done just because I need your help right now, Kade."
"June, please. I—"
"I'll see you," I mutter, absentmindedly waving him off as I reach the car. "I'll reach out. Bye."
My driver slams the door shut. My thoughts drift to Parker as I watch his twin's worried expression disappear out of sight.
Parker's still not up by the time I come home. With a start, I realize time's really gotten away from me. In a few days, it'll be the second anniversary of Kade and Parker's father's death—the moment that sent the rest of my life spiraling.
I knock on Parker's door, nervously biting my bottom lip. He emerges what feels like ages later, and I give him a tentative smile. I can't let him suspect something's off now.
"Hey," I mutter. "I just wanted to... apologize about last night."
He rubs his eyes. He's shirtless today, and his scars look angry and puckered in the bright light of day.
"That's fine," he finally says.
"Doesn't seem fine to me. Let me make it up to you," I offer.
"How?"
"You know it's the anniversary of Mark's passing in a few days?"
"So?" He crosses his arms defensively.
"I want to show you something," I say. "Come with me."
We take the golf cart across the property to where the family tomb is. Mom had it put in when Mark died, not expecting to be buried next to him a few months later.
Parker and I enter the stone building quietly. Despite everything he's told me, there's a certain kind of respect I have for this place. I lead him to our parents’ graves. They're resting together—the way they would have wanted.
"Why are we here?" Parker mutters.
"Look. Here." I point at the carved words on Mark's tombstone. He'd picked them himself—had written them down in his will. "Read them out loud to me."
"Familia ante omnia," Parker reads out.
"You know what it means?"
"Of course," he mutters. "Family over all. But what does it matter now?"
"He cared about you, Parker."
"Like fuck he did." My stepbrother laughs bitterly. "He wanted me to be someone I never wanted to be. Someone I can't be."
"But he loved you," I argue. "I know he did, Parker."
This time, he doesn't fight my words, and a part of me breaks for him. I reach out and gently squeeze his hand.
"I saw Dove today," I whisper next, and his eyes snap to mine. Trying to see how much I know? I wonder. "She... she didn't look good."
"Oh?"
"She's scarred, Parker—horribly scarred."
"Scarred?" He feigns surprise, but I've known my stepbrother for so long I can tell when he's faking it. "What happened?"
"Maybe I should ask you that," I continue. "Because she wouldn't tell me."
He pulls his hand free of my reach. "What the fuck are you insinuating, June?"
"Did you hurt my friend?" The accusation weighs heavy on me, but I need to know. "Did you do that to Dove?"
He laughs, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair. I'm expecting a defense, something to convince me how wrong I have it all, but it doesn't come. Instead, Parker's steel-gray eyes—so much like his brother's, yet so very different—meet mine, and he smirks.
"What if I did?"
My hands shake as I tuck dark strands of hair behind my ears. "Parker, I..."
"What? You feel sorry for her? Don't." He laughs. "She deserved it. They all do."