All Tied Up

He didn’t deny the truth. Nor did he point out their similarities in that way. Instead, he found himself taking her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips and then peering up at her from where his lips prepared for another taste. “Did you love him?” He didn’t know what in the hell made him ask the question, nor did he know why her answer felt so important. But it did.

A hint of tension betrayed her body. He kissed her knuckles again, then her wrist. Slowly, her muscles softened, her expression softer now, too. “I guess it depends on how you define love. I said the words. I thought I meant them. Now…now I don’t know. The only love I know for sure is for my family, my sister especially. We’re very close. My parents don’t approve of my life so it’s strained.” The tone of her voice said she regretted that last admission and she quickly fired a question at him. “Have you ever been married? In love?”

Constantine searched her face, saw the loneliness in her eyes. He knew then, that part of their connection was that solitude they both had lived. He pressed her palm to his, thinking how petite and somehow fragile she was, yet how brave in actions and spirit.

And when he would have dodged this question from another, he found himself answering honestly. “No, to both.” Guilt twisted in his gut over the lie he’d told in the cave. Lying to her in that bar had been survival. Lying in that cave had been cowardly, his way of hiding from what he didn’t want to face. He tried to shove it aside, and focused on telling her what she wanted to know. “I’m thirty-five and have spent my entire adult life in the FBI. My job doesn’t exactly make me Prince Charming.” He hesitated, recognizing some internal need to clear the air. “I lied to you.” She gave him a startled look and he blasted forward, continuing before he could talk himself out of it. “I have a brother.” He had spoken in the present tense before he could stop himself. But talking about Antonio as if he were gone bothered him.

“What? You said—”

“I know what I said. It’s an automatic answer I give. It’s easier than saying he’s dead.”

She sucked in a breath, understanding filtering into her expression. “How?” She whispered the question.

“He arrested a guy named Martini, not as heavy an operator as Alvarez, but still a big fish. Based mostly in San Antonio.”

He hesitated and she commented, “I remember hearing about that case.”

He continued, eager to get this off his chest. “Martini was released on a technicality and…” His voice trailed off. “You can guess the rest.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, God.” Her voice shook. “He killed your brother.”

Constantine’s gut twisted in knots. Years had passed and this still tore him apart. He couldn’t speak, so he nodded.

She leaned forward, hands gently cupping his cheeks, the tenderness in the act squeezing his heart. It had been forever since he’d told anyone about his brother, years since he had felt a touch like this one, so caring, so understanding.

“That’s why you threatened to kill Alvarez and Carlos,” she said, her gaze searching his, pouring into his, reaching into his soul.

Somehow he found his voice, and confessed the sin that devoured his sanity every day of his life. “I was in deep with Alvarez when my brother died. I couldn’t go to the funeral.” To his horror his voice cracked. “I should have been there.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “He was my kid brother. I should have saved him.”

“Oh, Constantine.” She brushed her lips across his. “Don’t do that to yourself. I know it’s torture, but you can’t carry that blame all your life. It’ll tear you apart.”

He was surprised to see tears in her lovely blue eyes. “Easier said than done. We both know you blame yourself for getting a man off who killed again. I’ve seen how you turned your life around because of that case.”

“That’s different.” Her lashes fluttered, her eyes lowering to his chest, gaze averted. “You had nothing to do with your brother’s death. I got a high off being the best at my job, at being the most successful defense attorney in Texas.” Her lashes lifted, tears tumbling over her cheeks. “I was self-centered and greedy, and someone died because of it.”

She swiped at her tears. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m tired and emotional.”

Regret filled Constantine. He should never have brought this up. He didn’t blame Nicole for being a defense attorney, nor did he blame her for being good at it. The system was the system and he was frustrated with it. Perhaps, had he met her before, he would have felt differently about her. But they were the same in what they ultimately wanted—justice for the victims of Alvarez, and those like him. Nicole’s regret over the past was eating her insides out and he knew this. Just as his past had left a hole in his gut. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize how raw this was for you.”