Page 102 of Rising

I had left him to die.

My brother is a liar.Now, it was my father’s wish to see my brother and I dead, and it would happen by my lost cousin’s hand.

Each breath was rapid. Sharp. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t find air.No. No.I couldn’t take this, I couldn’t face this. I had nothing. No one. My brother, he didn’t just hate me; he didn’t care if I ended up dead.

Blood rushed through my ears. My heart was pounding.No. What? How? Why?I’d spent all this time protecting him, just for him to—

I was dizzy. The room—Is it spinning? I want to sit down.My legs gave out. Water, there was water on my face. It was salty. No, those are tears.

Has my entire life been a lie?

A sharp pain shot through the left side of my chest. Sloan walked past me. She said something to Amaia, but I didn’t understand. Couldn’t make out the words.What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I breathe?

I heard the clank of the door and then a lock. I’m trapped.No, I want out! Let me out!I was up on my feet, sprinting, charging towards the door. My body banged against it, over and over again. Amaia stood behind me, hugging me. Pulling me onto the floor, rocking my body back and forth, her hand running through my hair. My eyes burned and I couldn’t see anything, everything was blurry.

Something moved in my peripheral vision, catching my attention. My brother. I couldn’t stop myself, wouldn’t even if I could. I knew it didn’t hurt. I didn’t care.

I don’t care about anything.

I pushed free from Amaia, my palm stung as it connected with his face, his chest, anywhere as long as it was him. He stood there, letting me. The eyes we shared pleading silently for my forgiveness. My understanding.I hated those eyes.

“I hate you!” I screamed, pointing my finger in his face as he smacked it away, turning his nose down.

Not this time, not that easy.“No! You look at me and you look at me now, Seth. I’m yoursister. How could you? I hate you.”

Unable to find any oxygen, my breath refused to bend to my will. He held his chin high, tears threatening to fall. A pinch formed in between his brows, his mouth opened, considering his next words, the expression of a concerned brother, the brother I’d run to Monterey with.

I was reminded that version of my brother did not exist, not anymore. The look faded, the cold, unforgiving brother I knew now returned. “You lied to me first. Said he was dead.”

“He is dead.” I said, teeth clenched.

“Except he’s not.”

“She’s lying!”

“She’s not Reina. They have proof. The emissary they sent around December, he asked me about The Duke and if I’d finally learned my lesson.”

I backed up a step, body numb.It can’t be. A testament to my brother’s lifelong lack of control over his emotions. The Duke had been Seth’s first horse. Our father was adamant that if we wanted to claim one of the ranches horses as our own, that we’d have to break it in ourselves. Easier said than done. Even as a child, Seth had been hard to control.

Months passed by and he was nowhere close to being tamed. Both Seth and The Duke. Seth’s impatience got the best of him, his frustration driving him to throw a fit, kicking sand in our father’s face. He’d stormed into the house, the gate left wide open. My father had left it that way, deciding to teach Seth a hard lesson.

The Duke took off at his first opportunity. Our father rode Seth out to him, handed him some gear, and took back off towards the house. My brother was left there to figure it out himself. He was only eleven.

“The kid needs to learn some patience,” my father had said as my mom cried, worried he wouldn’t make it back before dark.

Our mother was a docile woman. She’d loved her kids ferociously, but at heart was kind. A patient and generous soul, my father had claimed to fallen for her for those exact reasons. He’d spent months courting her, convincing her life on a ranch could be just as enticing as life out on the coast where she was from.

That had been the core of his frustration with Seth’s lack of restraint. It wasn’t that our father hadn’t loved us, he’d just held us to a higher standard. Expected perfection.

Even as a child, Seth had been wildly unpredictable, and since my father hadn’t been able to breed the trait out of him, he’d break him like a horse instead.

“Impatience is an unfavorable trait to have,” my father had told me, using the opportunity to teach me a life lesson, too.

I’d sat on the porch waiting for him to come back. Night had fallen but there was no sign of him. My father went after him, finding him in the same spot he’d left him, The Duke long gone.

None of that mattered now. I’d done what my father had asked. “You don’t understand,” I said to Seth, horrified.

“Don’t I? You lied, you robbed me of choosing a life of my own. Of making a choice. Family, the thing you claim to be damn happy about finding, what you’re glad to be a part of? We had that Reina, still do! But you hated us. You never wanted to stay on that ranch. Never cared about Dad telling us to stick together. That was clear the second you stepped foot in Monterey. You got what made you happy, a life away from the ranch. The friends, the clothes—”

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