Defy (Brothers of Ink and Steel Book 3)(41)

“Oh f*ck, here comes the self-loathing,” Connor quips unsympathetically.

“You’re wrong. I don’t hate myself,” I correct, barely on the edge of calm. “I just don’t think that kind of relationship is in the cards for me.”

“Because you don’t deserve it?” Talon pushes.

“No, I believe any dumb f*ck—like any of you—who gets their shit together is deserving. For me it’s a matter of destiny.”

Everyone falls dead silent.

Back when we were teenagers in North House we were forced to go to group therapy sessions. I never participated. Cade, who was, and still is, a great man and house-parent used to try to get me to let it all out one-on-one with him. I had no desire to.

I was consumed by fury—always raging—raging that I couldn’t right the wrongs, raging that we lost Betty, raging I couldn’t bring Chief back. I had become a dark, violent storm because I had no say in my own life. No control over who died and who didn’t.

I was filled with unending madness because I was all alone in the world.

I was, and still am, the volatile one of the group. The one they really don’t want to mess with. Liam is tough as hell, but he still had Quinn to make his rough edges smoother; Josh had a great life until bullies shattered his world, causing him severe pain and anguish. The rest of the brothers each had something to keep them sane—a sense of humor or just a better disposition than I had.

Don’t get me wrong, death is death and pain is pain, and I’m not thinking any of their pain was less than mine—not at all—we were all dealt a raw hand by the Maker of the Game.

I simply felt like the lone wolf, always on the edge of the pack, left alone to wander the earth for some unknown punishment.

I could never willingly pull a woman I had feelings for into that disastrous emotional mess. No way.

My feelings for Farrington need to be locked in a vault—and the key thrown into the depths of an abyss—so they can’t harm her.

But I can’t do that quite yet, because I’ve never felt this deeply for someone before. And even though it hurts like blistering hell, I want to hold on to it, so I can always remember what it was like. What she was like.

It’s been forty-two hours since I walked away and left her standing there looking at my back. I behaved like such an *—I couldn’t even say goodbye.

“Fuck this! Time for a relapse.”

With all my darts in the board, I stalk over to the Keurig and grab the first coffee pod my fingers land on.

“It doesn’t f*cking matter, ’cause I’m not the guy who gets to ride off into the sunset with the girl.” I get a quick glimpse of the green and white foil top before I stick the pod into the machine, and not caring what the flavor is, I close the top and hit the button to start brewing. “She might think I’m a f*cking hero, but I’m not.”

“You’re more of a classic anti-hero,” Chase puts in, stepping up to take the darts from the board.

“Yeah, you’re like f*cking Batman,” Reese says with either sarcasm or awe.

I shoot him a death stare.

“I mean it as the highest f*cking compliment, man. Batman is f*cking awesome.”

“What smells like pizza?” Chase asks.

“Maybe Adrienne was nice for a change and thought of feeding the team,” Liam says. Adrienne is the girl who works the front of the shop.

Reese and Conner snicker.

“Just call her,” Talon finally says.

“Call her? She’s in FBI custody,” I say incredulously.

Chase shoots a dart. “Like you don’t know how to reach her.”

“I need to let her go.”

“If she’s interested, dude, wouldn’t she call you?” Reese says.

“You don’t know much about how high level witness protection works. She doesn’t have access to a phone, or mail, or any visitors. She’s cut off from her family and friends and her entire life stops until after Miguel is captured.”

Why the f*ck are we still talking about Farrington? With no thought or joy, I lift the coffee to my mouth, blow across the top layer and pull in a mouthful.

I promptly spit it out to the floor. “WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Reese and Connor burst out laughing.

“Jesus, what the—?” I open the Keurig and snatch the little container out. “Papa John’s GARLIC!?”

Reese drops out of his chair. “I cannot tell you how long ago we put that in there for you!”

“Weeks ago, man, f*cking weeks!” Connor can’t hide his extreme joy either.

Chase adds, “No wonder it smells like pizza.”

I take long strides to the fridge and pop open a beer to wash away the garlic taste.

“I forgot that was even in there,” Liam says. “Guess that means no pizza—I think I’m going to order a real one.”

“Man, I can’t believe he finally cracked and used it!” Reese is never going to let this go—it’s just that good. “We just kept reaching over it to the real coffee. We never thought you’d actually get to the point of drinking it, though. Seriously, how could you not notice the shit was yellow and smelled like garlic? You are in way over your head with this girl if she’s got you that distracted.”