“If Dom isn’t going to put you at the same table with all your half siblings, then yeah, I do. Because that’s bullshit.” My indignation comes through loud and clear in my tone. “I won’t let him treat you like that. Not today. Not ever again.”
His expression softens with a smile, and it transforms his entire face. “You look like a fury, ready to go to battle for me over this.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I would go to battle for you over just about anything. You’re my person, Cannon. I’m not going to stand by and let him—”
“Cannon.”
Dom’s voice breaks into my tirade, and I go silent, hoping like hell his next words aren’t going to make me want to kill him.
“Come sit with the family.”
Relief sweeps over me.Thank God.
“You sure?” Cannon stiffens beside me. I can only imagine how much he wants this. How important this is to him.
Dom waves at the last two open seats near him. “It’s where you belong. Come on. The food will be out in a minute.”
That’s how I found myself being seated across the long table from Holly Wix with Cannon at my side.
The doors from the kitchen fling open and the waitstaff march out in a line, carrying heavy trays loaded with salads.
I scan down either side of the table, but there’s no sign of Creighton. Holly shifts in her seat, searching for her husband too. As soon as a salad is placed in front of me, the tall, dark-haired man appears next to his wife, his hand on the back of the chair across from Cannon.
My entire body goes still as the two men face each other.
“Crey, sit. Eat.” Holly’s voice carries just a hint of her Southern accent, making it lyrical and sweet, but her husband stands unmoving like a block of marble as he stares at his former best friend.
His knuckles turn white, and everyone in the room seems to hold their breath.
23
Cannon
When you’re ordered to befriend someone when you’re barely a teenager, it’s not a job. It’s your life.
I’ve known Creighton Karas for over twenty years, and never once did I tell him that we were brothers.
Never. Once.
But with him staring me down, dozens of emotions flying across his features, chief among them anger and betrayal, I’ve had enough of the rift between us. I don’t care that everyone is watching like we’re the main event on a fight card. I say what I need to say, because I’m tired of holding back the words.
“I’m not sorry, Crey. I’d do it all again. I wouldn’t trade that twenty-odd years for anything. You can hate me for the rest of your life, if you want, but I’d do it all again.”
In an instant, Creighton’s face morphs into a polite mask, devoid of emotion, as he pulls out his chair, unbuttons his suit jacket, and sits. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says and then turns to say something to Holly, shutting me out.
Beside me, Memphis slides her hand onto my knee and squeezes in support, and I want to flip this table and force him to talk to me. But I know better than anyone how cold and hard Creighton Karas can be. He had no choice but to grow up with his emotions locked in a dungeon, just like I did.
We might not have been raised the same—me on Dom’s afterthoughts of generosity, and him in the lap of luxury with his wealthy relatives—but we both experienced emotional terrorism that forged us into the men we are today.
From the other end of the table, Eden waves at me with a smile.At least two-thirds of my siblings are happy I exist.I tell myself that’s enough for me, but I know I’m full of shit.
Because right now, I need Creighton more than I’ve ever needed him before. Who the hell else can I talk to about this fucking mess with Enzo and Dom wanting one of us to take over the family? No one knows me better than Creighton. No one understands the position I’m in quite like he does.
And yet, the one person whose advice I want more than anything is completely closed off to me because I followed orders.
I’m done following fucking orders.
With all these comments tonight about me not being my own man unless I take over, I find my decision is getting harder, not easier.