Page 161 of Unexpected Heroine

Letting me go, he takes a few steps back.

Caught by surprise at his candor, all I can do is deny his assertion. “I’m nothing like you, Lionheart. I’m different. It doesn’t come naturally to me. You were born that way.” I gesture my hand up and down his broad frame, my volume spiking. “Loving. Kind. Gentle. Emotional.” I motion toward myself. “It’s not like that with me. I was empty. Lettie taught me how to love. She taught me how to fucking feel. Hell, I didn’t even have empathy until her. Now she’s gone, and I’m nothing but a?—”

His icy glare stops me in my tracks. He’s been hanging around Big Al too damn much if he can eviscerate me with a single look.

He throws a thumb over his shoulder, pointing toward his house. “You know that woman in there?”

My only response is to blink at him. Of course I know his fucking wife.

“She used to say that shit. That she was different. She wasn’t meant to have friends or be loved. You’re a lot like her; you know that?”

He doesn’t give me a chance to answer, which suits me fine since I have no fucking response.

“All her life, people told her she was strange. Too quiet. Too weird. Creepy. A freak. All because she didn’t show her emotions the same way everyone else did.” He lowers himself to my eye level when he asks, “Do you think she lacks empathy?”

With only a split-second of hesitation, I shake my head. “No.”

“So why do you think you do?”

“It’s not the same thing. I don’t have autism.”

His face goes slack except for one arched brow. “You sure about that?”

Wait. Do I?

He doesn’t come across as judgmental. It’s almost as if there’s something else hidden behind his words. Oh well. I don’t have time to figure it out.

Punishingly, I drag my palm down my face. “Does it matter, Leo? Fuck. We’re wasting time.”

Seriously, this entire night has gone from bad to worse. None of this bullshit is helping me find Yev or Skidmark.

Or Viktor.

That’s where my focus should be.

He shrugs, ignoring my outburst. “I’m not a fucking doctor. I don’t know if you have it. But I see some of the same behaviors in you that Sue has. Not all, but enough to make me think it’s a possibility. If not autism, then some type of neurodivergence.” Taking two large steps forward, he returns to my personal space. “Whatever it is or isn’t doesn’t matter, as long as you stop fucking pretending you’re a machine. If anything, you have more emotions than the rest of us because you’ve been holding them back for so long.”

My fingers curl at my temples. “What the fuck does this bullshit have to do with anything? I need to focus on finding?—”

“It matters because if you keep lying to yourself, pretending you aren’t blinded by rage, you’re gonna get yourself fucking killed going after them. And I’ve already buried one sibling—well, sort of—and I don’t want to do it again. Ask for help. Don’t go it on your own. Your brothers are here for you.”

“Brothers?” I scoff. “Why do you guys keep saying that? I mean, sure, Rangers for life and all. But I don’t have a family.”

Never have.

Never will.

He pauses, breathing pointedly as if he’s fortifying himself with not only oxygen but with calmness. “Sometimes, the bonds forged outside of blood are stronger and last longer. Blood doesn’t mean shit. Take my father. Your father. Sawyer’s parents. Kri’s. Shep’s. I could go on.”

He gives me no time to react, barreling on to drive home his point.

Shaking his head, he spreads his arms wide open. “Take a look around once in a while. With a few exceptions, we can’t count on our blood for shit. But our Redleg family never fucking falters. That’s why it hurt when you didn’t come to me or Big Al about your girl. I’m glad you went to Mia and Klein, but you actively hid it from us. Don’t do that shit again. Let us help you.”

Some of his words chisel at the stone inside my chest, trying to break through.

I want to believe him.

Logically, I do. Yet it’s not easy.

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