“You know what I mean,” I tell him rather than lying to him and pretending I didn’t get us into this shit because of a sick need to have Aria to myself.
“What did you come to talk about then?” Jase asks and then lays his head back. He picks up a knife from the table and plays with the blade between his fingers.
“What do you want to do from here?” I ask him. The fight in me is subdued and he can see it. I’m certain everyone can. I’ve never felt so weak in my life.
“I say we wait,” he offers, staring into the roaring fire. The flames dance in the darkness of his eyes.
“We could hit them now… Let the streets run with blood,” I suggest to him, knowing the day is coming soon. That’s how this works. The winner takes the final blow.
“Two reasons. The first is that Sebastian is coming back.”
Sebastian. My initial reaction to hearing that he’s coming back is nothing I expected. I feel as if I’ve failed him. I’m ashamed for him to come back and see me like this. Ever since Aria came here, I’ve messaged him to keep him apprised. He’s been my confidant ever since he had the safe house built. He’s anchored me more than once. And he knows about Aria, and how badly we’ve fallen.
“When?” I ask and have to clear my throat after.
“He’ll be here tonight, although he’s going to his estate and the safe house first to see the damage.”
A grunt leaves me before I ask, “He hasn’t seen the extent of the damage yet, has he?”
I didn’t want to believe it hurt as much as it did when he left. Over time the pain eased. But I can’t deny that the memory of him leaving and then not coming back for so long fucking kills me. He was family. He still is.
“Not yet,” Jase answers evenly and then adds, “Chloe isn’t coming for a while.”
“That’s understandable,” I say absently. Deep in the back of my mind, I always knew he stayed away because of three reasons:
Chloe never wanted to be here.
Romano would have him killed if he still had the power to do so.
Marcus.
When Marcus approaches people, they tend to do his bidding and then move far, far away. My brothers and I are the only ones who seem to have defied that pattern.
It’s quiet as the wood splits in the roaring fire and specks of ash fly in the heated air.
“You said there were two reasons?” I remind Jase, waiting on the other reason we shouldn’t destroy what’s left of Talvery.
“Her father retreated,” he tells me, still running his fingers along the blade as he leans back in the chair. He’s simply waiting for war. I’m the reason my brothers were pulled into this life, and I fucking hate myself for it.
I hate that he refers to Talvery as “her father” just as much.
“He has to leave eventually. He can’t hide forever.”
“Until he does, we wait?” Jase asks and I can only nod. Every day this war lasts is a day longer that I have Aria so close, yet unreachable.
“You don’t often come to me for advice,” Jase comments and I don’t respond for a moment.
“I’m tired,” I tell him honestly, but I don’t tell him everything else. How all I can think about is what I’ll be when she leaves me. I’ll be the shell of a man waiting to die, the way Jase is waiting for this war.
His gaze burns into me, but he doesn’t press me for more. Maybe he already knows.
“Talvery called as well.”
My head whips to his and my brows pinch together in both shock and anger at his admission. “When? Why didn’t-“
“Just now, before you came in.” I try to interrupt him, pissed off that I wasn’t told, but Jase continues, “He only wanted to know one thing and then he hung up.”
“And you told him what he wanted to know?” My blunt fingernails dig into the soft leather of the armrest.
“He wanted to know if Aria was still alive. If she was okay.” He speaks evenly, staring into the fire before looking at me when I ask, “What did you tell him?”
“The truth.”
I have to bite my tongue when I nearly ask him what truth he told Talvery. Because I know she’s not okay. There’s nothing about either of us that’s okay.
Chapter 7
Aria
I’ll never forget the first fight I had with Nikolai. As I sit in my hideaway room, staring at the beautiful wallpaper in front of me with a blank canvas at my feet and a stick of unused chalk in my hand, I remember how I screamed at him and how he screamed back at me.
It was a quarrel of young love. But it was also the beginning of the end and we both knew it.