Even if it didn’t, it didn’t matter.
I wanted to know him in this moment. Every part he’d allow me into.
God, here I’d been warning myself all these weeks that I didn’t need this kind of heartbreak.
Now I was begging for it.
I got brave and let my fingers wander down to the monkey pinned between him and my mattress, somehow knowing the simplicity of it was anything but simple.
Sebastian winced, and those full, full lips tipped down on the crooked side, a subtle frown that struck me deep. “Julian.”
Another one word answer.
One that wasn’t an answer at all. I traced the exposed edges, my silence asking for more.
He trembled at my touch. “My brother. His name was Julian.”
Was.
Oh. God.
I could feel the sympathy twist my face just as tight as it twisted my heart. I knew I was in way too deep when this news physically hurt. Focusing on my face, he reached out and pressed his thumb to the lines that had gathered between my eyes, ironing them out, like he needed a distraction for his attention while his thoughts went far away.
“He was eight. Had this monkey he dragged around with him everywhere he went. Didn’t matter how many times our mom tried to get rid of it because it was ratty and filthy, or toss it in the garbage because he was getting too old for it, he always managed to dig it back out.” The words broke, his pain sinking into my bones. “Fuck…he was a great kid.”
“What happened to him?” I asked through a quiet rasp.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Darkness clouded his expression, and he swallowed hard. “Let’s not talk about that, yeah? I’ve been trying to forget it for a long time.”
I touched it once more, knowing this scar was so much deeper than any of the others.
Blowing out a pursed breath, I settled closer to his side. Warmth wrapped me tight, just as tight as the arms anchored around me.
“Tell me about your friends,” I asked lightly, changing the subject, figuring this one was safer, because I knew the other was closed.
He sighed, though a trace of a smile lifted at his mouth. “Assholes. All of them.” It was pure affection beneath overt annoyance.
“I like them,” I said, picturing Ash and Lyrik on the dance floor, the easy confidence they exuded. The way they’d all jumped in to protect me tonight.
“Been with them for years. Since we were all just kids trying to figure out a way to make it in this world. Of course we fucked more stuff up than we figured out.”
Trouble.
Recognized it when they all showed up at Charlie’s door.
But there was more to them than that, something better than I’m sure the rest of the world chose to see.
“They’re the only family I’ve got,” he continued. “All except for my little brother.”
I smiled a small smile. “You have another brother?”
“Yeah, he just turned eighteen. Been taking care of him for the last ten years. Austin.” He spoke his name with a quiet reverence, cloaked in a ton of concern. A sad sigh slipped from him and he held me a little closer and admitted quietly, “Julian was his twin.”
Whoa. I didn’t expect for that admission to hurt so much, but it felt as if my chest was being squeezed, some kind of weight crushing my ribs. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was the turmoil I could feel billowing through him just talking about this.
Where were their parents?
“That’s good…you taking care of him…Austin,” I offered pathetically, because I knew I didn’t have the first clue about his life.
But it was the wanting to that kept me prodding a little more.
He huffed out a frustrated breath toward the ceiling. “No, Shea. It’s not. I tried. I fucking tried, but I led him into all kinds of shit I shouldn’t have…just a kid myself, having no clue how it was going to affect him. Both of us have been paying for it ever since.”
I lifted up on my elbow, looking down at Sebastian who laid flat on his back. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not a good guy.”
A flash of fear. I gulped for air.
“I don’t believe that,” I whispered almost desperately.
He reached up and held my face. “That’s because you see all the good in this world, Shea. Don’t even know you, but I can see you do. Maybe you see the guy I wished I could be, but I’m not him.”
I frowned, and I knew it was sad and confused.
“Took my whole crew down with me. Fighting…drugs…women…taking shit that wasn’t ours.”
“They look pretty okay to me,” I argued.
In the shadows, agony blanketed his eyes. His expression was haunted, hurt and hard and filled with a self-hatred I couldn’t understand. “No…there are some things you can’t take back.”