If only I knew why the fuck we were here. As good as the eclectic folk-ska mishmash going on downstairs was, nothing about Saint was ever that simple.
The band played on. Eventually, Rubi, Nash, Orla, and Embry joined us on the roof. Mateo was still with the girl he’d picked up and Embry was seeking solace in Rubi’s weed stash, stormy gaze hazed by the herbal smoke.
He leaned against Rubi for a while, then rolled closer to me. “Why are we here, Saint?”
Of course he would just ask. Me? Yeah, I’d have let it fester. I grew older as the years passed, not wiser. I was the same dense idiot I’d always been.
Saint sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the roof. For a moment, I feared he’d jump, but he pointed instead, singling out the band’s singer who chose at that split second to look up. “I wanted to show Cam my brother.”
I turned my head sharply, the booze I’d necked deciding to hit me all at once, because there was no way I’d heard him right. “Your what?”
“Myfosterbrother. From the family I told you about.”
Yeah. Okay. That made more sense.
Saint chuckled. “Are you okay?”
Was I?
Lordy lord. Maybe not. I peered over the ledge of the roof again. Saint’sbrotherhad gone back to bringing the house down with his gravelly voice and electric charisma. His chin-length hair was a similar colour to Saint’s, and he was tall, but otherwise, they looked nothing alike.Course they don’t, moron. They share no blood. But if my life had taught me anything, it was that blood meant fuck all, as long as the people I loved got to keep it in their veins where it was supposed to be.
Too many horrible images bombarded me at once.
Embry.
Saint.
My dad.
Fuck.
Saint took my hand.
Squeezed it hard.
“What’s his name?” Embry’s voice broke through the madness, closer than he had been before.
When I opened my eyes, they all were. Orla lay on my back, her chin on my shoulder. “Love you,” she whispered. Then to Saint, she repeated Embry’s question as she slid off me and burrowed into Nash instead.
Saint watched his brother a moment. The show was almost over and he had the crowd in the palm of his hand. Was it so different to how the rest of us were enthralled by Saint?
“His name is Shay,” Saint said.
“Shay Malone?” I remembered the story he’d told me in the back of his van so long ago, in his bed, before he’d fucked me for the very first time. “That’s where you got your name?”
He waved his hand.Half-and-half.“Their name was Maloney, but the extra syllable made my brain itch, and even when I was five years old, I knew beingSaint Maloneywas a trip I couldn’t handle, so...”
Rubi pursed his lips, biting his tongue so hard his face turned red. Beside him, Alexei nodded like Saint had spoken nothing but sense. He didn’t always notice when Saint was unintentionally hilarious.
Me? I just accepted that mad shit because it didn’tneedto make sense.
Quiet fell over us. Mateo hauled himself onto the roof, rolling to a stop at Nash’s feet. He eyed Saint. “Is it fucked up that I think your bro is cute?”
Embry wrenched around. “You knew?”
Mateo shrugged. “We spend a lot of time stuck in ditches together. It’s how I know Alexei died yesterday.”
“Is true.” Alexei waved the vodka bottle. “Thank you for the gift.”