Page 29 of Blissful Devotion

No, this isn’t about me.

I shake my head a little harder than I should, given how much I've been drinking, and stumble to the side, only just catching myself on one of the chairs in front of me.

“No, he found a way to pay.” Nathan’s voice is so fucking cold, all the hate he’s carried for all these years for our ‘brother’ coming to the surface.

They wanted to make sure he was dead, but I was so sure Trigger would kill him that I told him not to go back.

What have I done?

Fuck, he has Kat.

I turn and attempt to leave, but only make it a few steps before I throw up in what I think might be a potted plant, but I can’t pry my eyes open to know for sure.

“Fuck, Dad,” I hear Oliver move and try to wave him away, but he doesn’t take the hint.

Shame and embarrassment mix, making my eyes burn from more than just sickness.

When my stomach is finally empty, I fall back onto my ass and find Oliver beside me with a glass of water and a wet towel.

“Thanks,” I croak, wiping my mouth and head, enjoying the chill of the cold cloth against my overheated skin as I chug the water.

“Slow down. You don’t want to puke again.” Oliver chides me, and I listen because he’s right. I don’t want to do that again.

I hate puking.

I push to stand and find, not surprisingly, that everyone’s gaze is on me, but instead of disgust or annoyance I find…

Compassion and sympathy.

“You were the payment.” Jade’s voice is soft and so fucking understanding that I can’t blink back the tear that rolls down my cheek fast enough.

“You might not know this, but my brothers weren’t always wealthy businessmen. Our parents came from overseas for the American Dream, if you will.”

I do know that, even before I started working as Addison’s nanny, I’d looked into them a little bit, but they also told me about themselves over our time together. I’m not going to tell him that, though.

“We grew up in a shitty little neighborhood, went to a shitty school, and made shitty friends, but we always wanted more. From a young age, we knew we wanted more from life. We studied hard, and Nathan graduated early before heading off to college.”

It’s not hard to picture a young Nathan, book-smart, top of his class, and ready to take over the world. Honestly, Oliver reminds me a lot of him; it’s funny how genetics work.

Thinking of them makes my chest ache, and I quickly push it aside.

I miss them, all of them, like crazy, but thinking about them right now isn’t going to help. I need to keep it together; I can cry when I’m alone.

“I followed in his footsteps, studying hard to graduate early. I’d always looked up to Nathan, wanted to make him proud.” It’s impossible to miss the venom that leaks into his tone. I have to fight to keep breathing when he drops his hand on top of mine, holding me to him.

“But it wasn’t enough. Even with Nathan’s brains, we didn’t have the funds. He had a degree but nothing to do with it, no experience.” He shakes his head, and his grip on my hand tightens as he pulls me back into the house. The smell of food is heavy in the air, making my stomach roll, but I swallow it down.

Now is not the time to throw up.

“One of his stupid college friends convinced him to join the army, said they would give him the experience he needed, and he believed him,” he spits the words, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess who that friend might be.

Something tells me Lorenzo doesn’t like Vincent more than he dislikes his brothers.

“Nathan left us behind without a second thought. Said he was doing it to help us have better lives, but that was a load of shit. We all knew it. He was only looking out for himself. So I had to take matters into my own hands. I studied harder than he ever did and graduated at the top of my class, but more importantly, I made friends. Big, important friends, and when he came home, I was working toward everything we ever wanted…”

He stops so abruptly that I trip; the only reason I remain upright is his grip on me. I force my gaze up to his face. I’d been careful to look anywhere else, unsure what he would see on my face, but right now it’s almost as if he doesn’t see anything. His gaze is far away, lost in a memory I can’t see, and honestly I’m not sure I want to, as his brows pull together and his eyes harden, his hand gripping mine hard enough that I can’t stop the gasp at the sudden pain.

That seems to snap him out of whatever that was, and his gaze snaps to mine before he looks down at where his hand still tightly grips mine.