Page 12 of Blood and Redemption

Ending up in the kitchen, I smell coffee already brewed. The bitterness makes my nose wrinkle, but it’s not the scent that makes me want to avoid the room.

Ren is leaning against the island, a tired expression on his face.

How am I supposed to meet his gaze after what I’ve done?

He won’t let Rocco stay if he finds out.

I don’t want him to leave. Not yet.

The floorboard creaks under my weight, and he turns slowly, like it takes effort.

His eyes are laid bare without his eyepatch: one dark brown, sharp even in exhaustion; the other milky white, adrift. Both find me anyway. Always find me.

His face is all hollows and shadows in the dim light. He looks wrecked. Then again, he always does.

“You’re up early.” His mouth quips up, his gaze softening.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I admit as I drift past him to get some juice. Grabbing a glass, I pause at the paper hanging on our fridge. A torn, crumpled sheet with fancy cursive.

A wedding invitation. Camellia Parada’s name and a man’s I don’t recognize. Rocco’s sister. This wasn’t here the day before.

It looks like it belongs in the trash. Why did Ren hang it up?

He’s scrolling through his phone, his finger flicking across the screen as he mindlessly sips at his drink.

Humming in the back of my throat, I fill my cup with juice and take the seat across from him.

The silence feels heavier than normal. It’s the guilt of hiding a secret from him, I’m sure of it.

“He’s not causing any issues for you, is he?” Despite asking the question, he doesn’t lift his gaze. “I’m sure he’s disrupted the peace you’re used to.”

The peace I hate, actually. But I can’t possibly tell him that. Not while he works so hard to keep me safe from harm, ensuring that I’m comfortable.

“It’s nice having someone around,” I confess as I mumble against the glass. “How long will he be staying?”

I can’t sound too hopeful. Ren is smart. He’ll know why my voice wavers or why my eyes fall in disappointment. Once he puts the pieces together, Rocco will be gone.

“As long as he needs to, I guess.” Sucking on his teeth, he sighs into his coffee. “I didn’t mean to throw him here without warning. He just…”

My brother looks frustrated with himself.

I’ve been the only person Ren’s gone out of his way for. It’s amazing watching him get worked up because of another person.

“You’ve never mentioned him before.” Cradling my glass, I sneak in my curiosity. “How are you two so close? How did you meet?”

His mouth twitches with amusement. Okay, maybe I’m not as sneaky as I want to be.

“You were just a kid at the time. Doesn’t surprise me that you don’t remember him. Then again, he didn’t look like he had a stick up his ass during our teenage years.” He snorts at thememory, a good one for him. “Back then, our families wanted to create ties, bonds.”

Ren might keep me in the dark about how things are run now, but the past? That, I remember.

Too well.

Late nights with our mother hovering over our father’s slumped form. The rough ones—when the liquor burned hotter than his temper, and the walls shook with things I wasn’t supposed to hear.

Drifting my hands to my lap, I dig my nails into my thighs as I remember the painful nights, too. The ones where I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled. Before Ren knew that our mother wasn’t the only one in the path of those drunk rages.

But my smile never wavers. It’s practiced. Perfect. It keeps him talking, even when every word feels like a splinter under my fingernail. I want to listen. I do.

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