“Wait, so he can get my name tattooed on him, but I can’t get his?”
He raises his hands in a helpless shrug. “I don’t make the rules, Sis.”
“So, is Rock throwing axes too?” I ask.
“No, he was supervising.” He hesitates. “I think asking him to walk you down the aisle means a lot to him. All things considered.”
My smile freezes in place. “All things considered?”
“Heidi and I talked. You know, about Rock and Teller’s relationship.” He shrugs and slowly lifts his gaze to mine. “We have things in common, in…certain areas. So I thought I could help her.”
My mind runs at a hundred miles an hour, thinking of all the things he might be referring to.
“Char, look at me,” he pleads.
He’s quiet while I work out in my head what the hell to say.
“I know, Charlotte. About Dad. You know, not being my dad.”
“Chuck’s such an asshole,” I mutter, reaching for his hand and squeezing.
He returns the affectionate gesture. “Chuck didn’t tell me. Well, not directly. I overheard him and mom arguing about it a long time ago.”
“You did?” Oh my God. What an ugly argument that must’ve been for Carter to hear. “How come you never told me?”
“I already lost Dad.” He shoots a grin at me that’s more pained than silly. “Mom seemed iffy about me most days. Chuck hated me. I couldn’t lose you too.”
“Carter,” I cry and fling my arms around him, yanking him closer for an awkward hug. “You’d never lose me.”
“Ugh, no crying on your wedding day.” He hands me a tissue. “Have you always known?” he asks quietly.
“No. Chuck told me…after Mom died.”
“When he had his meltdown and you had to stab him?”
He may seem goofy at times, but Carter’s ability to piece information together has always been uncanny. “Yes,” I answer carefully.
“Is that what you fought about?” His forehead wrinkles. “I thought he’d love to let the truth about me see the light of day.”
“No, that’s not what our argument was about.”
He squeezes my hand, neither encouraging nor discouraging me from continuing.
“Does Teller know too?” he asks in a small voice.
My jaw tightens. I don’t want Carter to get the wrong impression. “He was there when Chuck told me. I needed his help to get Chuck to admit…other things.”
He closes his eyes briefly. “Please say Teller beat whatever information you needed out of him?”
“Not quite.”
“Bummer.” He opens his eyes. “Did it have anything to do with what happened to you in law school?”
I suck in a shocked breath. “What…what are you talking about?”
“Char,” he says gently. “You changed. So much. I traced the timeline back to your winter break. I’d been sick with the flu, I didn’t remember much. You took care of me. Then you ended up sick. Later I realized you didn’t catch the flu, it was something else.”
Shit, shit, shit.