Fear the Heart (Werelock Evolution Book 2) (16 page)

“Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

I frowned at the darkening trail before me, my feet halting in their tracks.
How long had he known?
Somehow it didn’t seem like fresh news, judging by how calmly he was able to talk about it. As if he’d already grieved the loss and moved on, while it remained a raw wound for me.
What the fuck?

“When did you hear about it?
How?”

He shrugged. “It’s not important.”

I was about to argue when another thought occurred to me. “Mom wanted me to tell you that she was wrong for what she said when she last saw you. She wanted you to know that she was sorry.” I examined his features closely, intent on his reaction. “She seemed to think you visited her last summer, and that you two fought.”

Eventually, he nodded in acknowledgement, stern lines creasing his forehead. “It’s fine. I’m not upset about it anymore. Doesn’t matter now.”

My eyes widened and my voice raised an octave as I blurted, “So you really did visit last summer? Oh, my God, that actually happened?” I shrieked in disbelief, throwing my hands in the air. “You saw Mom and you didn’t stick around to see me?” I found myself pacing back and forth, glowering at him.

Illogical as it may have been given the patchwork quilt of lies and subterfuge that I now knew had blanketed my childhood and my family relationships, somehow this smacked of the most painful betrayal yet.

“My God, Raul! You never even let me know you were in town!” I railed. “You saw mom and not me? How could you?”

He looked confused at first, then angry. “Seriously, Miles? Of all the problems we’re facing right now, you’re gonna harp on me about this? About me not visiting you last summer?”

“Yes!” I stopped pacing to screech, blinking back tears as I pouted, feeling every bit like the freckle-faced, redheaded, cling-on teen stepsister he’d painted me as to the Reinosos.
The bratty kid sister he’d always been avoiding.

“Well get over it. Because we don’t have time for this.”

“Why? Why didn’t you come see me?” I ranted aloud in my dejection, still trying to process it. “Because you fought with mom? Was it really such an awful fight that you’d leave without even seeing me?”

I’d seen him far too infrequently over the last nine years as it was. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he’d been in town last summer and had left without seeing me.

He ran a hand over his eyes. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“Well, lay it on me! Because I’m perfectly capable of grasping complex concepts and scenarios, Raul. Contrary to popular opinion, not every fucking thing that happens in our family needs to be kept a secret from me.”

“Oh, fuck you and your dramatics! I do not need this shit from you of all people right now. You have no idea what I’ve been through, not even a remote sense of what a fucking horrendous year I’ve had.”

“Maybe not. But my year wasn’t exactly filled with senior beach trips and bonfire parties. You didn’t have to see mom suffer,” I indicted, knowing it was a low blow but going there anyway. I was furious at his heretofore utterly apathetic response to her passing. “Or witness her deteriorate and change into a different person. You didn’t have to watch mom die.”

His eyes widened, his lips twisting into a sneer. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, little sister.” His nostrils flared, his chest heaved up and down. “Because I was the one who called 9-1-1 when mom collapsed in the kitchen, nine months pregnant with you.” He jerked his thumb at his chest. “I was the one to witness the paramedics deliver you and fail to save her.”

An icy chill washed over me as his words sunk in. “I’m … sorry …” was all I managed to whisper. “I didn’t know …”

“Exactly. You don’t have the first goddamn clue what my life has been, Miles. Because everything has always revolved around protecting
you.
Starting with mom.” His words were taut with emotion; filled with condemnation. “She could have lived, you know?”

I shook my head, not following.

“The paramedics would have saved her life first. They were going to. They were
supposed to
. But she begged them to save you instead. She chose your life over her own.”

I was still shaking my head.

“And over me.”

I almost missed his last words they were spoken so softly. I was dumbstruck.
Devastated.
I thought of Mateus—how he’d always hated me. I wondered now if Raul had always secretly hated me too? I’d long-harbored an insecurity of our relationship not being as important to him as it was to me. It made so much sense now knowing that I’d taken his mom away from him. And he’d only been a kid.

He pulled me into him as tears clouded my vision. “I have
never
hated you,” he said to the top of my head in answer to my unspoken thought as I sniffled into my hands wedged against the wall of his chest.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. Didn’t mean the part about mom the way it came out. I could never hate you, Miles. It’s just been hard sometimes … feeling like … well, feeling like my life was hijacked to protect yours,” he confessed. “Feeling like what I wanted in life didn’t matter, would always be secondary, because the duty of protecting your life came first.”

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I never knew. I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I know you didn’t. It’s not your fault.” He pulled back, holding my wet face between his palms. “You and I”—he rolled one shoulder—“we’re just victims of shitty circumstance is all. None of this was ever due to any fault of ours.”

I nodded my wholehearted agreement with that assessment.

“But it’s over now.” He smiled. “The gig’s up … cat’s out of the bag as they say. And everything’s going to be okay now.”

I didn’t quite follow his “gig” or “cat” rationale on the “everything was going to be okay” deal, but I wanted to believe things were going to be fine more than anything, so I went with it.

“We can be a family again?” I sniffled, smiling tremulously. “We don’t have to be apart anymore?”

“Uh-huh.” He grinned, a playful spark lighting his eyes. “A
manatee
family.” He squeezed my cheeks tightly between his hands then, chanting “manatee face!” as he comically contorted my cheeks, nose and lips in a manner I’d long ago grown accustomed to.

He’d loved to play this game with me as a toddler, and somehow the hilarity of seeing my face squished into what he’d decided resembled a manatee, just never got old for either of us. Soon we were both laughing uncontrollably as I did it back to him. And despite his new bulky appearance and air of authority, to my delight, I found he still looked as riotously funny as ever with his features scrunched up between my palms …
resembling a manatee.

“So”—he tipped his head to the side, extending his fist to me—“manatee family forever?”

“Forever.” I giggled as we fist-bumped on it.

He stood smiling down at me a moment longer, but as I beamed affectionately back at him, his warm brown eyes seemed to narrow questioningly, and his smile faltered. At first, I thought he was checking me over for injuries again, because he took a step back, frowning as he eyed me up and down. But as I watched, he appeared to grow more distressed by the second over what he saw.

“What?”

“You look …
different,”
he stated at last, his tone and the way he was regarding me making it clearly sound like a bad different. “You were just a kid the last time I saw you,” he mumbled, more to himself than to me. “Fuck.” He ran a trembling hand through his hair. His tanned skin appeared to visibly pale before my eyes in the dim twilight. “I gotta get you out of there.”

“Wait, what in heck just happened here? What are you freaking out over?”

He was sniffing the air now, and making an awful face. “Fuck, you don’t smell right either.”

“Gee … thanks.”

“This isn’t funny, Miles!” he barked at me out of left field.

“Damn straight,” I agreed, “you just told me I stunk and that I look different in a bad way compared to the last time you saw me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Well, it’s not
not
what you said either.”

“I didn’t notice all these changes when I saw you before, okay?” he bit out. “My God, you were so banged up when you first arrived at Alex’s house, I didn’t pay attention to anything else.” He shook his head. “That was the only recent glimpse I had of you before tonight, and until just a few moments ago, I was still singularly focused on looking for signs of injury and abuse.” His visage darkened. “As long as I live I swear I’ll never be able to purge the image of you all battered and bruised, laying limp in Remy’s arms from my memory.”

My jaw had surely dropped at some point.
“
What
—?
How did you—?”

“I have my sources,” he supplied evasively.

“How?”
I pressed.

“It’s not your concern.”

I grimaced.
Ew.
What the hell was that tone? He was sounding an awful lot like a certain biological father I never cared to remember.

“The less you know, the better, Miles. Now, about Remy …”—his eyes drilled into mine—“that first night, did he … did he …
do
 … anything …?” He looked wholly uncomfortable trying to spit the words out.

“No,”
I immediately put his fears to rest. I had no desire to discuss this sort of thing with my brother either. “He and Alcaeus only healed me,” I expounded, and was impressed when I didn’t blush at the mere mention of it. “And then Alex … Alex also …”—I paused to clear my throat—“healed me.” I chose to omit the part where he’d mind-raped and verbally abused me whilst healing me. “I … I had a head injury.”

He nodded, measuring me with a degree of scrutiny and a level of concern that was unsettling. “So I heard. What about Alex? Did he … did Alex try …?”

I rolled my eyes at him, even as I fought the flush that wanted to sweep over me. “Raul!” I complained.
I was so not having this conversation with my brother.

“Did he?” he growled, grabbing me by the upper arms and crouching down to meet my eye level.

“Ow!” I balked at his sudden aggression. “Quit it, Raul. I said I was fine.”

“Sorry.” He released my arms and ran an even shakier hand through his disheveled dark hair, stepping back from me again. “I’m still adjusting to my new strength,” he said by way of apology. It was his turn to pace now.

“And I’m just … a little wound up is all. A lot has happened, Miles. And I’ve been worried fucking sick about what might be happening to you. And I never …
never
even thought of …”—he swallowed, looking like he might be nauseous—
“that
 … other …
stuff
 
…
”

Realization dawned as to what he was freaking out over, and I was torn between howling with laughter and beating him over the head with the nearest fallen branch.

I’d still been a kid the last time he saw me? Seriously?
The fact it was only now occurring to him that men might look at me as a woman spoke volumes as to just how absent he’d been from my life these past nine years.

“Raul, I got my period when I was eleven and my first training bra when I was twelve,” I announced, much to his wide-eyed horror. “I know I still have a boyish figure, but technically, I am a woman and also legally an adult. Sorry to blow your mind like this, but boys have been trying to get in my pants since the eighth grade.”

“Stop!” He ceased pacing and held his hands up. “I do not need to hear about this.”

“Great.” I folded my arms over my chest. “You’re all caught up with my life then.”

“I just need the names and social security numbers of every boy who has ever tried—”

“Raul!
Get over yourself! It’s a little late to show up and play protective big brother. And what kind of double standard is that anyway? I’m pretty sure I caught you making out with half of my babysitters back when you were in high school.”

“Half?” His face scrunched in mock offense. “I made out with way more than half,” he quipped, his tense features finally cracking into a smile.

“Ewww!”
I whined. “Shut up, you big pig. I do
not
need to hear about your shit either.”

“Then I’ll happily spare you,” he said with a chuckle. “Listen, I’m sorry I freaked out. I know I should have noticed you were growing up, I just … missed so much time with you, sometimes it’s been easier to pretend things were still the same … that you were still the same goofy kid sister I left behind.”

“Thanks.” I playfully flipped him off. “I’ll try to be goofier from now on. I’m sorry too. I’m really fine though. Honest. They’ve been …” I struggled for the right way to put it, “good to me … for the most part.”

He frowned. “Who’s been good to you?”

“The Reinosos. You don’t have to worry so much. I mean, it was crazy scary at first when I found out they turned into werewolves and all, but I feel pretty safe there now. And I have Lupe to talk to …” I trailed off, shrugging awkwardly and crinkling my nose when he began to shake his head, regarding me as if I’d grown a set of antlers, his expression morphing from disbelief into one of abject horror, and finally, total disgust.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he disparaged, his eyes catching fire in fury. “They kidnapped you, Milena!” he shouted it in my face, as if I was either deaf or an idiot. “You’re being held fucking hostage!”

Jesus!
Apparently his anger was on a hair trigger. I took a cautious step back.

“Well … um … technically, your former friend Felix kidnapped me—”

“Felix was never my friend,” he corrected. “And he was operating under Alex’s orders to kidnap you.”

What?

I shook my head, stealing another step backwards. “No … no Felix was trying to make a trade—”

“It’s a lie!” he insisted, stepping forward to vanquish the small personal space I’d created. “Felix lured and kidnapped you on their behalf.”

My mind struggled over his words, trying to fathom such a scenario. I didn’t want to believe it. But he was so confident, so convinced of this as truth that for a second I doubted my own memory as well as my judgment. I
had
been suffering a head injury that night, after all. But still, it simply didn’t fit. It felt …
wrong
. And then my she-wolf raised her muzzle to cry foul as well.
It smelled wrong.