Page 123 of My Brother's Enemy
“I love you too.” She glanced away for a second. “I’m going to find a professional to talk to, someone who specializes in the lost child role.”
“That’s the name?”
“Yeah. The lost child syndrome. Or the invisible child. For me, it was the same thing.” She nodded to herself, seeming determined. “It helped a lot to find out the name for what I was. It’s helped so much, even in a short amount of time, but I’m not going to lie. I am hard-wired to believe you don’t love me. I’ve been conditioned that you and everyone else will eventually leave, that you’ll suddenly realize I’m not worth it. Please be patient with me. I’m going to be fighting myself. And it’s…it’s going to be hard.”
“Rain.” I leaned in, finding her mouth. “I’m going to do so much research and studying and talking to your professional person,” I told her between kisses. “I’ll be able to take one look at you and know what you’re struggling with. That’s my goal. And you need to know that in the Griffin family, we’re one for all, like those Mouse people.”
“Mouse people?”
“The Mousksters. Those people.”
“The Musketeers?”
“Yeah. Those people. You’re the fourth one. Don’t tell Eric. Ski says he thinks he’s the fourth member of the family, now that he’s met me and you. I think your days of hiding are over. You’ve got too many people who’ll put out an APB if you try isolating yourself again.”
She grinned at me. She looked good.
She gave me another kiss and murmured, “We can go home, baby.”
I liked hearing her call me that. I liked it a whole lot, but a new type of worry sprang to life. I never would’ve thought shewas the type to buy a gun and consider what she was going to do. Never. I’d met her and wanted her. She’d seemed good. Beautiful. She looked capable. Strong. Assertive. Now to find out she’d been wanting to die for years? I would’ve had no idea if she hadn’t said the words to me tonight. Not one inkling.
“You don’t think Zoey’s like…”
“Like what?” she asked.
“The way you were treated growing up—you think Zoey’s treated like that?”
“No!” She grasped my hand and shook her head fervently. “God, no. I don’t know why Zoey felt the way she did. It could be because something happened at school. Or she suffers from depression? I don’t know, but Zoey is not me. Zoey is loved. She’s seen. You switched NHL teams and moved across the country because your family needed you, because she needed you. Trust me. Zoey is not me.” She peered at me intently. “She will get the help she needs. I have all the faith. You and Skylar, you rallied around her. I really think she’s going to be okay.”
Some of my fears lessened. “And you? If you’re ever thinking of doing something again?”
That’s what worried me now. She could hide it so well. She had hidden it, but maybe that was part of the invisible kid thing? I didn’t know. I needed to learn about it.
She drew in a breath. “I think with me, it’s going to take time. I need to find someone who can help me. Then I’ll know more about how you can help. But I can tell you I don’t want to do anything with that gun anymore. I have you. I have hockey again. I have friends. I have hope. I’d lost hope. The world went gray and stayed gray and I didn’t see any more color coming. But then it did. If I ever do have those thoughts, I’ll come to you.”
“Promise me.” If she was suddenly not here one day? “Promise me, Rain.”
“I promise,” her voice went quiet again and she repeated it. “I promise.” She released her seatbelt and clambered over to me.
I hit my seat, pushing it as far back as possible so she could straddle me. Her forehead came to mine, and her hair fell like a curtain around us, cocooning us in our own world.
I breathed her in, cupcakes and lilac, and knew I’d want this world with her forever. “Don’t ever leave me,” I said raggedly.
“I won’t.” Her mouth found mine, and I was swept up in all things Rain.
It rattled me, thinking about a world without her, a life without her. “I want to marry you.”
She stiffened before lifting her head. “What?”
“I…” I closed my mouth. “Well, fuck.”
71
TYLER
“Yo.” Bruge skated up to me the next afternoon and held out his gloved hand. “We got this.” He glanced my way but turned his attention to the Montreal skater I’d been watching for the last couple minutes.
It was warmups. I wasn’t supposed to be standing on the red line, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I hated this fucking guy, Daniel Connors. The second he’d taken the ice, he was skating around with his helmet off, eyeing our bench. Like he was daring Rain to come out.
