“Your mother was mine.”
“Oh God,” I breathe, my legs losing solidity, making me wobble. The wall is the only thing holding me up. “No.” I shake my head.
“Yes,” he counters simply. “She belonged to me, and the only reason I didn’t slaughter William Anderson was the satisfaction of knowing he’d suffer a lifetime of torture when she left him.”
His prowling frame is sucking all the air from my lungs. I can’t speak. Can’t think. I’m blank.
“Death would have put him out of his misery.” His hand comes up and strokes my cheek, but I don’t flinch. I’m a statue. A numb statue. “How does it feel to know she abandoned you to save him?”
It hits me like a sledgehammer. Everything. William didn’t send her away. And she didn’t abandon me because she never wanted me. Charlie made her leave.
“Step away, Charlie.”
I remain where I am, trapped against the wall by his looming frame, struggling to breathe, but that voice is the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard.
“You can leave, Tony.” William’s order leaves no room for refusal.
I hear the door close and then the beats of even footsteps, and though I can’t see William yet, his presence is cutting through the thick atmosphere.
“I said step away,” William adds severely.
I see him in my peripheral vision, hovering to the side, but my stare is rooted on Charlie’s hollow eyes.
Gray eyes.
I lose my breath.
He gives me a menacing smirk, like he can see that something has just registered. “Hello, brother,” he drawls, slowly turning to face William.
My mouth drops open, and a million words hang from my tongue. Brother? The eyes. Why didn’t I see it before? Charlie’s are exact replicas of William’s, except where William’s are soft and sparkling, Charlie’s are hard and cold. They’re brothers. They’re also enemies. My mind is being blitzed with recollections, lots of snippets of information all coming together to form a monumentally complicated picture.
Gracie, William, and Charlie.
Carnage.
William’s gray eyes have hardened to match his brother’s, taking on an edge of threat. They are traits that I’m familiar with in William, but now they are amplified. He looks as frightening as Charlie. “You’re nothing to me, only a blemish on my life.”
“I love you, too, brother.” Charlie wanders calmly over to William and lifts his arms. It’s a condescending act. “Don’t I get a hug this time?”
“No.” William’s lip curls, and he steps back, away from the imposing presence of Charlie. “I’ll be taking Olivia and leaving.”
“You and I both know that’s not going to happen.” Charlie looks over his shoulder to me. “You couldn’t control Gracie, Will. What makes you think you can control her daughter?”
I divert my eyes from his, uncomfortable being the focus of his intense stare. He knows who I am.
William is beginning to shake. “You sick bastard.”
Charlie raises high eyebrows. He seems interested. “Sick bastard?”
I don’t like the glimmer of worry on William’s face when he flicks me a quick glance before returning stone-cold eyes on his brother. But he doesn’t speak.
“Sick bastard,” Charlie muses, nodding thoughtfully. “Would a sick bastard get a cheap thrill from putting this beautiful girl to work?”
I frown, keeping my eyes on William, seeing him fighting to prevent his body from fidgeting. He’s uncomfortable. It’s a disposition I’ve seen in him before, and when he looks at me, my heart sinks.
“Would he?” Charlie asks, almost innocently, but I know what he’s getting at.
“Don’t,” William warns.
“No comment.” Charlie sighs on a menacing smirk. “Okay. Tell me this. Would a sick bastard get a cheap thrill from putting his niece to work?”
“Charlie!” William roars, but I can’t be startled by the ferocious bellow. I’ve just died.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head furiously. He can’t be. My eyes start darting everywhere, my body convulsing from shakes.
“I’m sorry, Olivia.” William sounds defeated. “I’m so, so sorry. I told you, as soon as I realized who you were, I sent you away. I didn’t know.”
I feel sick. My eyes find William and see nothing but torture.
“So you didn’t get a sick satisfaction from allowing my daughter to give her body away?”
“We’re not cut from the same cloth, Charlie.” William’s face contorts in condemnation.
“We’re blood, Will.”