by Haley Jenner
I’ve lost everything.
Everything.
Every single pivotal moment we’ve shared in life, as brothers, as a unit flashes in my mind and I close my eyes against the sting of their memory. Of the betrayal I’ve served to him because I fell in love.
I hate myself.
I despise myself.
He’s right. One hundred percent. I searched, fuck did I search, but in the end, I couldn’t find it in myself to give him the one thing in life he’s been looking for. I couldn’t love him enough to let him try to find his peace.
He’s right to cut me off. I’m the most selfish motherfucker on this sorry planet.
Locked in our stare, I long to reach out, to pull Rocco into my body. To hug him and let him reassure me that it was all gonna be okay. That we’d survive. We’ve survived worse. Haven’t we?
“Parker. Codi’s voice hits me and I stumble back a step, my eyes searching for her.
She’s standing by the door, her eyes skirting between Rocco and I, apprehension coloring her messy appearance.
Her shirt is on inside out, one jean leg folded up, the other pull down. Her hair is thrown haphazardly on top of her head, thick clumps fallen from her untidy bun. Her creamy skin is blotchy and red, her normally brightly shining eyes, dull and hollow in her face. She’s been crying, is crying.
Why the fuck is she here?
I tried to save her. She said no. I told her to let her dad save her and now she’s here. I’ve betrayed my brother, my family and she’s ignored everything.
I stalk toward her, rage and fury tickling under my skin. “You fucked it,” I yell in her face, caging her in with both hands punching at the wall by her head. “You fucked everything,” I spit, my eyes shaking with the fury drowning me.
“She deserved vengeance. Our revenge was for her. For us. She was stolen from us. Her life was stolen,” my breath stutters, tears forming in my eyes as fast as they fall along my cheeks.
“You were supposed to be our retribution. You were our way to retaliation, a way to make it right. If only slightly,” I shrug my large shoulders before leaning in close, breathing in the scent of her hair.
So sweet. So familiar.
Forcing my hand away from the wall, I hover it over the creamy column of her neck, my entire arm trembling with the indecision of the movement.
Right here and now, I could make it right. She wouldn’t stand a chance. My palm would close over her throat and I’d steal her last breaths.
My mother would be avenged.
My brother would have peace.
I’d be left with nothing.
And Codi would be dead.
Dead.
Clenching my hand into a fist, I pull it away, slamming it into the wall over and over again.
“You fucked it,” I repeat. “You fucked everything,” my scream cutting off on a pained shout. “You took my heart and you made it yours. You made me love you.”
Codi stands statue still through my tirade. Her frame shaking, tears leaking from her eyes. But she refuses to back down, she holds my stare, letting every emotion clawing its way from body rip her apart.
The disgust I feel for myself leeks heavily into my declaration. Placing the blame for giving over my heart, solely on her. Like I didn’t force this upon her. Like I didn’t hijack her peaceful life, on a lie, and take ownership of her heart.
“Worse, you forced me to understand him,” I accuse, betrayal dancing in my gray eyes and slicing through my tone. “I hated my father; despised the angry, evil man he became. But I get it now,” I nod, my eyes tracking over her face, the love I feel for her driving its way forward, pushing aside my hate, if only momentarily. “If someone took you away from me, if someone stole you from me, brutally, like your family took my mom, my soul would be lost too.”
In an uncharacteristically, intimate show of affection from someone barely holding their humanity in place, my large hands cup her cheeks, pushing up into her hair as my face moves forward, my nose skating along her jaw. “I’d go black,” I whisper. “I’d happily walk into the bleak, empty depths of hell and make sure everyone I came into contact with, felt my hate.”
I stay buried in her skin, my face moving to touch my lips along her neck, against the hurried beat of her pulse, erratic in its alarmed state.
The monster she’s spent the last few months convincing me didn’t exist, was very much alive. Vibrating with indecision and volcanic anger. Pulling back, I move my hands to my head, my palms skating along the shorn sides, elbows coming in to close my tortured face away.
My jaw is set tight, a heavy tick pulsating in the rigid line. The line of my neck is strained, thick cords of muscle prominent with the tension in my body. My eyes, when I let myself see her, would show her the swirling mass of contradiction living inside of me. Gray and lost with the unconscionable love I feel for her. But shadowed with hate, clouded with the vengeance I so desperately desire.
Our feelings are a disaster. Twisted and pulled in every direction by fear and need. By intimacy and hate. By loyalty and devotion.
Our affections were a mess.
Our love was tangled. Knotted and impossible; neither of us having a single clue as to how we unwind it. On how to make it right.
Because looking into her eyes, she seems to understand the heaviness inside of me. She’s trying to understand the pain I’ve lived with for almost twenty years. Maybe in reality, the agony, the heartache of my life was always there for her to see, painted clearly on my features. Maybe it’s begging to be seen. I never thought so until now, but staring into her clouded purple eyes, I know she sees it all.
“Your plan for revenge was based on a lie, Parker,” she whispers. “All this hate, it’s aimed in the wrong direction,” pain slices through her accusation.
I scowl down at her, pushing away from the wall, irritated that she’d come in here, after all I’ve lost and defend him.
She glances to Rocco, the color in her face fading with what she reads on his face. But as scared, as intimidated as she is, she steels her spine, standing upright and meeting his glare head on.
“Lying bitch,” he spits. “You don’t know shit.”
“Rocco,” Mira interjects, but he silences her with a sidelong glance.
“I spoke to my dad,” Codi continues, her focus now on Rocco, working to convince him, disregarding me in that moment as a no one. “Your dad believed it was our family, but it wasn’t. He promised.”
Rocco’s laughter slides across the loft with hate. “Oh. We should totally believe your dad. Real fuckin’ standup guy.”
“Would I be here if I thought it were true,” Codi bites out, anger flaring in her eyes. “Would I put myself in harm’s way if I knew deep in my heart my father took the life of your mother.”
He shrugs. “You’re stupid enough to fall for this guy when he was playin’ you. Seems your stupid knows no bounds.”
Pain cuts across her face a part of me wants to reach out, to reassure her. To tell her it wasn’t a lie. Not in the end. Convince her my love was, is real. But the larger part is pissed she’s even here. I’ve lost everything because I was stupid enough to fall in love with her and she couldn’t love me enough to keep herself safe.
My heart is thumping heavily in my chest. So loud I can hear it. I’d guarantee I could see it on my naked skin if I took the time to look.
“He told me the police investigated him for months, Parker. There wasn’t a single shred of evidence.”
“Dominic Rein is a career criminal, he knows how to covers his tracks. That means shit all.”
She closes her eyes against Rocco’s argument, taking a deep breath before opening them again.
“I believe him. He has no reason to lie to me about this. He didn’t do what you think he did. He didn’t kill your mom,” she finishes weakly.
Fuck, do I want to believe her. How easy our life would’ve been if that were true. But it’s not. No one else has motive. No one else had the means.
>
“I’ve lost everything because of you. Fuckin’ everything. My family,” I gesture to Rocco. “My heart,” I spit in disgust. “Peace. I’ve got nothing left. Nothing. And you come in here, after I’ve thrown EVERYTHING away to save you. Worse, you put yourself in danger to defend him. To defend the man that stole the greatest part of me.”
Our eyes lock and so much passes between us.
Loss.
Regret.
Hurt.
Betrayal.
Love.
Hate.
“Who do you think you are?” She seethes, moving forward to push at my heaving chest. “How fucking dare you. You did this. YOU,” she screams. “What the hell did I have to do with this? Nothing. I was living my life, peacefully and you forced your way in. I pushed you back. More than once, but you kept coming back.”
Every emotion exchanged has been lost to her pain, to the hurt I’ve caused her. It twists her face, wets her eyes, shit, her body is trembling with it so hard I’m surprised she hasn’t lost her ability to stand.
“You made sure I didn’t stand a chance. You took the purest part of me,” she stabs at her heart. “the part I guarded so heavily and you claimed it. You stole it.”
Her chin trembles unwillingly and she bites down on her bottom lip to stop me from seeing it. So hard she robs the soft cushion of color. It pales against the trauma of her bite and I wanna reach out and free it.
“I can’t breathe anymore,” her hand wraps tightly around the creamy column of her neck, her breath stuttering as she lets go. “Because I don’t know how to exist without you. How fucking stupid is that?” She whispers bitterly.
She thinks it’s stupid, but all I can find in myself at her statement is relief. That I’m not alone in the way I feel. In the way I feel consumed by her. In the way I can begin to stomach having to survive this torturous journey of life without her.
Gone are Rocco and Mira. All that remains in the hollow space of the loft is me, watching as my heart bleeds out in front of me. I can taste her heartbreak it’s so potent, so rich. But that’s always been Codi. Real. Genuine. No façade. No pretense. She’s always offered me what I could never give her back. Not completely. Honesty. The deepest parts of who she is.
“Your brothers right, I’m as stupid as they come. You played me and I danced right into your little game. Eyes closed. Heart open.”
Her words are quiet. Hauntingly broken. The pain holds me hostage, slicing through me and remaining, forcing me to reconcile how much I’ve hurt her.
“Screw you,” she sobs, her face twisting in irritation as the cry slices from her throat jaggedly. She drags in an uneven breath, her arm moving angrily to wipe away her tears. “Screw you,” she echoes, more forcefully this time, “for standing here and throwing blame and hate my way. How dare you tell me that I’ve taken anything from you. I gave you everything in here,” she touches her heart again.
“I gave you everything,” she repeats softly. “And all you’ve given me in return is a broken hymen and a shattered heart. Only things I’m left with now is pain, regret and blame.”
The truth of her words hangs heavily between us. The fury in her blazing eyes dares me to disagree. They challenge me to argue against the fact that I’m the biggest fucking asshole to ever walk this planet. The men I so fiercely despise; my father, Marcus, Dominic; their indiscretions, their flaws, the evil that lives inside them, is nothing, fucking nothing compared to the rotting soul I seem to host within my body.
I can’t dispute her words. No one single spoken syllable. She gave me all of her. Every inch of her body. Every fragment of her soul. Every morsel of her mind. And every last shred of the love inside her oversized heart.
Everything.
“I’m sorry your mom died,” she spits, the fury inside her eyes having claimed her completely, coursing through her veins with unrelenting control. “I’m sorry she was taken from you. I’m sorry you’ve let your pain manifest into hate. I’m sorry the both of you are so black inside you can’t see any light when it shines down on you. I’m sorry that all your mother would feel is disappointment that the two people she spent her short life loving, turned so hateful.”
Her words hit hard. They steal the breath from my lungs and cause my feet to stumble backward with the force behind them.
Because they’re true.
I know that.
Rocco knows that.
Codi knows that.
“FUCK YOU,” Rocco rages, stepping toward her and before I’ve registered what he’s doing his gun is held tightly in his grasp, barrel pointed straight at Codi’s face as he stalks toward her.
I push her back without a single thought, Rocco’s gun hitting me right over my heart. My nostrils flare and I shake my head.
He refuses to meet my eyes, looking over my shoulder at Codi. “I promised him I wouldn’t kill you,” he bites out, his arm shaking with his glock tucked against my chest.
“Rocco,” Mira cries, her small frame trying to force her way in between me and Rocco. She yanks at his arm, desperately working to move the gun from my heart. “Stop. Please.”
“Maybe I should kill him and his bitch. Rid myself of his disloyalty and get the revenge I fuckin’ deserve,” he spits, emotion clogging his throat.
“Can’t let you do that.”
Rocco startles at the rich voice that filters across the loft and our eyes seek out the source.
He’s bigger than I imagined; easily standing eye to eye with both myself and Rocco. His build is similar to mine, not as bulky as Rocco, but not small, still muscular, even for a man in his mid to late fifties. His brown hair is neat, his face clean shaven, his skin free of ink. His hands are held palms out, mid-way up his body, his feet slowly walking into the loft, eyes darting to his daughter then back to Rocco.
Dominic Rein. The cause of the nightmare that is my life just walked into our loft, a stance of surrender in his cautious approach.
Twenty-Four
Codi
“All you Rein’s seem to have a death wish,” Rocco snarls, the arm holding his gun moving to point it directly at my dad, who ceases his approach immediately.
“Fuck,” Camryn walks through the door stumbling over her feet to stop when she sees the gun. My heart seizes in my chest. I’m petrified. Camryn is now open slather, prey to an unhinged and manic Rocco.
Rocco startles at her appearance, his gun moving to her then back to dad almost immediately.
“Told you to stay in the car, Camryn.”
“Codi’s in here,” she glances to me, swallowing thickly. She pauses only briefly, concluding our dad is the bigger threat to Rocco, she ignores his bristling frame, moving fast toward Parker and I.
Rocco lets her move, unconcerned with her arrival. She reaches me in seconds, grasping onto my hand, eyes wide and panicked.
“I should just fuckin’ kill you.” Rocco moves closer to our dad, his finger tickling the trigger safety of the black semi clutched his hand.
“You could,” my dad nods. “But it wouldn’t give you what you wanted. The revenge you so desperately seek. The vengeance Lila deserves.”
“DON’T FUCKING SAY HER NAME,” Rocco screams, his heartache obvious in the way his voice cracks at the mention of his mother.
A pitiful squeak breaks from my lips at the fury unfurling from Rocco and Camryn pulls me into her body. She shares my fear, her body shaking as it wraps around mine. Rocco is waving a gun in our father’s face, his temper unhinged, spiraling with every chaotic second that passes. The slightest movement, a wrong word could push him over the thin ledge he’s balancing along. The fall resulting in a bullet into my father’s brain.
The thought makes me feel sick. My eyes closing over at the rush of bile racing up my throat, threatening to spill on Parker’s polished concrete floors.
Dad holds his hands up again, apologizing silently for speaking their mother’s name.
“It didn’t take her life. I—”
“STOP,” Ro
cco yells, eyes closing over to find some semblance of control as it spirals from his grasp. “Stop. Fucking. Talking.”
Quiet descends in the loft, the quick hollow breathing of myself and Camryn and the labored breaths of Rocco’s panic filling the space.
“Nah,” Rocco speaks again, calmer this time. “Killin’ you would be too easy.” He drops his gun, taking a step backward, looking toward Camryn, Parker and I. “No. I want you to live in the pain I have. I want you to feel the hell of life when your heart is missing.”
My heart aches for the words he speaks. They’re so flat, so broken, so empty. He’s lost. He’s working to find placement for the anger that lives deep inside of him, that’s rotting his soul.
Eyes on my dad, he lifts his gun again, pointing it toward where Camryn and I are huddled together. “Parker, move.”
Parker’s arm reaches behind, pulling me and Ryn tightly against his back. “Can’t let you do that, Roc.”
“I SAID FUCKING MOVE,” he roars, the words cracking over the volcanic eruption of his voice.
Mira’s soft voice hums in the space. I can’t make out her words, the quick fired mumble of her tone impossible to decipher. Chancing a look up, she’s moved into Rocco’s space, her small hands cupping his cheeks as she tries to catch his eyes.
“I think you need to lower that gun.”
I twist my head toward the sound of the unfamiliar voice, a growl of warning rolling through Parker’s body and vibrating along mine.
He looks similar to his mugshot, taller than I imagined. Definitely smaller than my dad, but not short by any standard. I’d recognize him on sight. Easily. The only thing his photo didn’t do justice to was his eyes. More so, the look within them. The emptiness in the deep blue of his iris. Windows to nothing but death, hollowness. Windows to nothing.
When I met Parker, I saw darkness where he claimed a monster lived. When I met Rocco, I theorized that if Parker was the monster he was so confidently claimed he was, his brother may well have been the devil himself. Now their menace is nothing. It’s not fear-provoking. It’s not threatening. It’s barely even scored. Not compared to him.
