Part 18 (1/2)

Nothing, he replied. It means I'm tired and I need to go to bed before I say something I'll be sorry about later. He moved to lean forward, kiss her cheek good night, but she startled him by giving him a shove.

”No, don't do that. Don't just make some smart-a.s.s quip and then walk away or play it off, like you did that day in the dance studio years ago.” When he clearly didn't remember this, to judge by the bewildered look on his face, her frown deepened.

”You've had a problem with Grandmother Eleanor since we were sixteen years old, ever since she gave me that green sapphire pendant for my birthday. I know you were angry about that, jealous even, but-”

What? Brandon interrupted, his eyes widening again. I wasn't jealous. Or angry, either.

”I saw you in the foyer,” Tessa said. ”When Grandmother Eleanor must have told you she was going to give it to me. I was standing on the staircase and saw the whole thing-the way you reacted, how you pulled away from her.”

Brandon moved to walk around her. You don't know what you're talking about.

”I know you think she slighted you by giving it to me,” Tessa said, stepping directly into his path, blocking his way to the door. ”I know you've acted angry with her ever since. But she loved us both, Brandon.”

Tessa. He locked gazes with her. You don't know what you're talking about. So just leave it alone.

He brushed past her, but she grabbed him by the sleeve, wheeling him forcibly about to face her. ”I will not!” she exclaimed. ”I think it's high time we talked about this, Brandon-that you deal with it. It's not fair for you to be angry with Grandmother Eleanor.”

You want me to deal with it? He frowned, jerking his arm away from her grasp. You don't think I'm being fair? You don't know what the h.e.l.l you're talking about, Tessa. You don't know anything-only some half-a.s.sed conjecture about what you think you saw that day on the staircase. And you're wrong. You're dead f.u.c.king wrong.

”Then tell me what I saw.” He kept trying to get by her; she kept preventing him. ”Tell me, Brandon! I want to know. If you're not mad at Eleanor for giving me the necklace-if you're not jealous-then what have you been p.i.s.sed about all these years? What did she say to you? Tell me!”

Get out of my way, Tessa, he told her with a frown.

”Not until you tell me,” she shot back.

I mean it-move, he said, and when he sidestepped, she cut him off.

”Tell me, Brandon. I want to know,” she said. ”Tell me!”

It should have been you! Brandon snapped. Are you f.u.c.king happy now, Tessa? Grandmother Eleanor told me what happened to me-getting attacked, losing my hearing, getting my throat slit-it all should have happened to you!

And in her mind, he showed her, opening up his memories, letting them replay inside of her head like her own. Through Brandon's eyes, she saw Eleanor on their sixteenth birthday, their grandmother cradling his face between her hands and leaning forward to press her full, cool lips against the corner of his mouth.

”Beautiful Brandon,” she murmured, smiling as she stroked her hand against his cheek, her fingertips trailing down to trace along the scar at his throat. Brandon hadn't been able to hear her voice, but he'd read her lips; her words whispered through his mind, soft and intimate. ”Such a pity, what happened to you. Such a waste.”

She met his gaze, wearing a sweet but melancholy smile. ”I wish it had been Tessa instead,” she remarked. ”A Brethren man should be strong-speak his mind and stand his ground, especially a n.o.ble. Women don't need to hear or speak to make babies, no matter their clan. And, in the end, isn't that really all Tessa can ever hope to accomplish?”

At this, Brandon had recoiled, startled and dismayed, and that was what Tessa had seen from the stairs.

When Brandon snapped his mind closed to Tessa, it was like a heavy steel door slamming abruptly shut in her face. She stumbled back, wide-eyed and dumbstruck. Women don't need to hear or speak to make babies, no matter their clan.

Eleanor's words echoed in her mind, stabbing into her stunned heart again and again like the point of some cruel and relentless knife.

...in the end, isn't that really all Tessa can ever hope to accomplish?

Her hands darted to her belly, to the baby growing inside of her womb. ”Oh, G.o.d,” she whispered. Oh, G.o.d, is that all she thought of me?

She remembered Eleanor giving the necklace to her, how she'd smiled at Tessa's surprise, and entertained none of Tessa's sputtered protests. ”Sweet sixteen is more special for girls,” she'd said.

But she didn't think I was special, she thought, her eyes welling with tears. Not then, not ever...oh, G.o.d, not at all.

Tessa... Brandon reached for her, round-eyed and remorseful. Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to...I didn't mean...

He tried to touch her, but she shrugged him away. ”Get out.”

I didn't want you to know that, he pleaded. I didn't mean for you to see, Tessa. I was angry and I'm tired and I...it just slipped...

She pointed one shaking hand toward the door. ”Get out, Brandon. Just...just go away. Leave me alone.”

Tessa... He tried to touch her again but she recoiled.

”Get out!” she cried. ”Get out, Brandon! You get the h.e.l.l out of my room!”

Tessa, please...

Again, he reached for her and this time she shoved him back. ”Get out!” she cried again. ”Just go away!”

Chapter Twenty-two.

Rene ran d.a.m.n near headlong into Brandon on the walkway outside of their respective motel rooms. Both men had been walking swiftly, their heads down, their minds clearly distracted, and when they b.u.mped into each other, knocking shoulders and each stumbling sideways, they both blinked in mutual surprise.

”Oh, hey, pet.i.t,” Rene said. ”Sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was going.”

That's okay, Brandon said. I wasn't, either. You all right?

”I'm fine.” Rene glanced over his shoulder, back in the direction of Brandon and Lina's room. ”Can't say the same thing for your other half, though, pet.i.t.” When Brandon looked at him, clearly puzzled, he elaborated. ”Lina and I just had a bit of a spat.”

Oh. Brandon nodded. Fair enough. Tessa and I just had one, too. What was yours about?

Rene shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. ”Nothing really,” he said. ”It's just that Lina doesn't seem to think I'm good enough for Tessa, that's all.”

What? Brandon cut his eyes toward his door and then back to Rene. You're kidding. She said that?

”Not in so many words, no,” Rene said. ”But she didn't have to. I understood her meaning perfectly well.” Brandon glanced again, this time over his shoulder to Tessa's room. Are you sleeping with my sister?

The dreaded question. Rene braced himself, straightening his spine and settling his jaw at a stern angle. He met Brandon's gaze, fully expecting yet another confrontation, another rousing round of the same old ”good enough to hire, not good enough to marry”

bulls.h.i.+t he'd heard time and again his entire life. ”I am, oui.”

Brandon looked up at him, his expression uncharacteristically unreadable. Do you love her?

”Yes, pet.i.t. I do. You can hit me if you want. I probably have it due. But that's the G.o.d's honest truth of it, Brandon.”

After a moment, Brandon shook his head and laughed soundlessly. I'm not going to hit you, Rene, he said. Jesus, I could hug you. I don't know why Lina would tell you that you're not good enough for Tessa, but she's wrong. You're more than good enough for her-you're good to her. She needs someone like you. She's needed that for a long time.