I'm Not Your Enemy (Enemies Book 2), page 2
He didn’t object.
Two
I made it to my brother’s place in Tennessee the next day.
David’s wife was out of town with four of their eight kids, leaving behind the terrifying toddler twins and the two eldest, who were thankfully calmer. Plus, they liked me the most.
My brother and I sat on the porch steps and drank beer as the sun dipped lower and lower over the green hills.
Rosie sat at his feet, enjoying the attention he was giving her. My prim and proper brother wore a fitted white pullover from some high-end brand, and the fact that Rosie was an animal saved her from complaints about shedding. His sleeve had plenty of little black hairs stuck to the fabric already, but animals were sacred to him. As they should be, I reckoned, considering he was a veterinarian.
Meanwhile, I had Oppy and Percy, my Yorkshire terrier mutts, jumping around on the front lawn. They weren’t the most active pets, but after a day in the car—after a night in a shitty motel—they reveled in their freedom.
“Dad!” Lee-lee hollered from inside the house. “Can I go out with Mandy after I give the twins their bath?”
David glanced over his shoulder and spotted his daughter through the open kitchen window. “You’ll be home by ten, deal?”
“Did you say eleven?” she asked hopefully.
I chuckled.
“Fine, but don’t tell your mama,” David responded, amused.
Lee-lee whooped in triumph, and I was surprised my brother agreed. It wasn’t like him.
“Where did that come from?” I asked.
David smiled and took a swig of his beer. “I’m trying to relax.”
I raised my brows.
He laughed quietly and scratched Rosie behind her ears. “After eighteen years of being called impossible, difficult, uptight, and rigid by my children—and Mel—I suppose I reached my limit.”
Good for him. Hell, good for his entire family.
“Dang. I guess Soph and I were wrong. You do listen.” It just took him eighteen years.
David grinned.
The humor faded eventually, and he continued. “So are our parents. Wrong, I mean. I can’t believe they did this to you.” He shook his head. “And if they think we will bring our children to celebrate Christmas with them in a few months, they’re sorely mistaken.”
I appreciated his support; in fact, I’d always had it on this topic. Sophia’s too. But I didn’t want them to punish the kids for it. Our folks were still amazing grandparents, which I reminded David of.
“I know,” he replied. “But it’s way too soon. There have to be some consequences. That’s not my Christianity. We say our prayers in this house too, and I don’t want my kids to think God doesn’t love all his children.”
I’d rather steer clear of that entire subject. My relationship with God was complicated enough as it was.
“Have you told Soph yet?” he asked.
I shook my head and finished my beer. “I haven’t talked to her in weeks.”
I was too embarrassed.
David seemed to know why. “Could it be because you left Washington without a word?”
Dammit.
“It could,” I admitted begrudgingly. “I fucked up as usual. Shit got too real, and I split.”
“What exactly got too real?” he asked, confused.
I didn’t know where to begin, because that was mostly about Sebastian. I still saw him in my dreams every fucking night, but at least I was able to think his name without feeling like anxiety-riddled garbage now. That was something.
“I met someone there,” I confessed, and I reached for another beer from the six-pack. “I don’t know what the fuck he did to me, but I had to get away. He made me feel shit. Like, physically—” I gestured to my chest. “I swear to God, he gave me chest pains. And my stomach felt like it did in high school before a game. At the same time, I couldn’t stop going over to his place. I was obsessed—or possessed. Both fit.” I shook my head. “I didn’t know what people meant when they bitched about toxic relationships until that guy.”
David squinted at me and looked as if he was trying not to laugh. “You think that’s the definition of a toxic relationship?”
“Well, yeah. It’s when you go back to someone who hurts you.”
“Oh my Lord, Blake.” He grinned at me, the fucker. “This is the very reason Melissa and I want our children’s teachers to go beyond sexual health in school. Anyone can roll a condom onto a banana, but very few understand love.”
“What the fuck?” My shoulders tensed up, and I pressed my lips into a thin line. “You’re outta your mind if you think I’m in love with that asshole. He hurt me. I don’t think you understand—fucking chest pains, David.”
He found that hilarious.
“It ain’t funny!” I snapped, getting heated. He was making light of it—I was dead serious. “No man my age deserves to feel that way. Anxiety is for kids who don’t know what they’re doing.”
My brother groaned through a laugh and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I beg to differ, little brother. Especially if you’ve never felt that way before. It’s probably why you reacted so strongly too. The harder they fall…” he mused. “And I didn’t say you were in love, you buffoon. But I’m willing to bet you don’t know what it’s like to develop deeper feelings for someone.”
Urgh. I made a face, ready to call off the whole visit and get back on the road.
“If that’s what it feels like to develop deeper feelings, I’m gonna have to pass,” I said flatly. “Love’s supposed to be good. Not…whatever that was.” I could barely describe it. Easiest way was probably to compare myself to a teenager. That was how Sebastian had made me feel. Insecure, anxious, un-fucking-glued.
That couldn’t be healthy.
David was done laughing, but the humor remained in his eyes. We looked a lot alike, only he wore Ralph Lauren and Armani, and I wore…well, I’d bought this flannel shirt at a fair.
“I hope you see that guy again,” he said. “I’ll leave it at that.”
“That’s hateful.” I picked at the label on my bottle. “I’ll do everythin’ in my power to avoid seeing him when I get there.”
David perked up at that. “So you’re heading back to Washington?”
I shrugged. “I managed to deny it to myself for about four hours yesterday. I told myself I was only aiming for Tennessee.” This was after I’d driven aimlessly for a while, just stewing in anger and hurt. “But I don’t know. I need a project.” It was a sobering thought. I needed a project to get past the fact that my mother couldn’t look me in the eye anymore.
“The guy is your project?”
I snorted. “Christ—no. Building Soph and Dylan a home will be.”
Something softened in David’s eyes.
“I bought them a piece of land,” I explained. “When I visited, I asked Dylan when he was gonna make an honest woman out of her—which earned me a kick in the shin from Soph—but he’s as bad as she is. They have no plans because every penny has to go to Teddy.” I was quick to go on because I didn’t want David to get the wrong idea. “You know what I mean. Bad is good and all that, but they’re more than parents. Or am I the asshole here?”
David smirked and shook his head. “No, you’re not. If I didn’t know better, I would call you sweet.”
I frowned. “Don’t do that.”
“No, I know better.” He wanted to, though. I could see it on his damn face.
“Anyway.” I cleared my throat. “They’re stuck in a rat’s nest of an apartment, both trying to save up for a better car, a better place to live, all while waiting for promotions—and now the shit with Teddy. They cut the aid for his after-school care group and speech therapy.”
“Yes, she told me.” David furrowed his brow in disapproval. “She also mentioned you pushed for him to go through a program in Atlanta. Then I heard the rest from Mom after Soph had called the whole thing off. It took me an hour to get Mom to stop crying.”
What a clusterfuck that had been. “Mom told me about the program. It seemed obvious to me—even though it was clear as day that our folks used money to shuffle family their way.” In the end, Teddy came first, right? Right. And since Soph and Dylan hadn’t been able to afford the program, I saw no other option. I would’ve offered to pay for it myself if I hadn’t already bought the land for them. I’d been out of money too. “I don’t know how they managed on their own—with the program, I mean. Did she tell you?”
David nodded once, then cocked his head at me as if a thought just struck him. “This guy you met there—was it Sebastian?”
Fuck. I already knew David had met him once. I’d been hoping he wouldn’t connect the dots.
“Maybe.” I took a swig of my beer while my brother grinned and shook his head.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Oppy jumping into Melissa’s rosebushes. At the same time, Percy took a shit on the lawn a few feet away.
“Well, he’s the one who saved the day,” David went on. “Sebastian paid for a similar program in Seattle, which Teddy is currently enrolled in.”
Go fucking figure. Sebastian was always the hero.
I let out a whistle for the boys and patted my leg, and Percy and Oppy came running. Or tumbling. Even the most manicured lawn could function as an obstacle for a dog that didn’t weigh more than three pounds. But they were so fucking cute. I suspected someone had tried to create one of those trendy Yorkiepoo mixes at some point because their fur was just a tiny bit curly in places, and they were darker than most Yorkies. Smaller too. They were, according to David, right on the lower end of what was considered breed standard.
“Did you know that Sebastian’s grandmother was a rather famous artist?” David asked. “Or semifamous, perhaps. But she had a following, nonetheless.”
I quirked a brow. “I knew she painted and opened a youth center.”
David hummed. “Apparently, Sebastian sold some of her paintings to pay for Teddy’s program. Soph was shocked—six paintings went for over twenty grand.”
Hot fucking damn.
“All of it went to Teddy,” David went on. “Sebastian wouldn’t keep any of it, despite that the program cost less than half of what he received.”
What the hell was David doing? I got it; Sebastian was great. He was fantastic. He was the best.
Jealousy ignited within me, and I wondered if Washington could be more than a temporary place to forget the rejection of my parents. What if I moved there? It’d been so good to see Teddy every day when I visited. No offense to David’s brood—he had great kids, but they were programmed to find grown-ups embarrassing as soon as they hit eleven. Teddy turned twelve on Halloween and still greeted me with the biggest grins and tightest hugs.
I wanted what Sebastian had with my nephew.
“Hmm.” David frowned at Rosie. “Mind humoring me with a checkup at the clinic tomorrow?”
What—oh. “You mean the lump on the inside of her leg?” I asked. “We already checked it out. It’s just a lipoma.” A fancy word for a lump of fat.
“No, this is something else,” David murmured. He gathered Rosie between his legs and felt along her ribs, then up to behind her ears. It put me on edge right away. “You’re a beautiful girl, aren’t you?” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Rosie’s nose. “Have you noticed any changes in her behavior? How’s her appetite?”
Fuck no, I wasn’t doing this. “She’s fine,” I insisted. “She’s tired—she’s getting older. That’s normal.” I swallowed hard as a memory struck. Yesterday, before we hit the road, she hadn’t jumped up into the truck. I’d had to lift her. But that was normal too. As I’d said, she was getting older.
“Her appetite, Blake.”
I sighed and quickly grew frustrated. “I don’t know, I guess she eats less these days—but not by a lot, and Mom still gives her food on the sly.” Or she had, up until yesterday.
“Well, it could be nothing.” David cranked up the reassurance in his tone; only, the damage was already done. Now I wasn’t gonna be able to sleep. My stomach tightened with nerves, and anxiousness constricted my chest. “I just want to make sure. Better safe than sorry, right?”
“But something triggered this,” I argued. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know yet,” he responded patiently. “Her lymph nodes are swollen, but there could be a number of reasons.”
“I swear to Christ, you’re the grim reaper, David. This is Grits and Blitz all over again!”
I got my first dog at nineteen, around the same time David was in veterinary school, and he was the one who suspected Grits was sick. After two expensive weeks at the clinic, my pup was put down because of a birth defect in his lungs.
Twelve years later, it was my second dog’s turn. David discovered Blitz’s cancer.
“We shouldn’t have come here,” I said irritably and picked up Oppy. I didn’t want him to go near my brother. “You stay with Daddy now, you hear? David gives you cancer and broken lungs.”
Oppy merely wagged his tail and breathed excitedly, tongue poking out.
We were at David’s clinic first thing next morning, arriving ten minutes before his overzealous assistant Benjamin. Benjamin hit on me every time I visited, but the kid was barking up the wrong tree. We had the same taste in men.
Maybe Sebastian would like him.
Under normal circumstances, David let family members be present during most exams—as long as the owner’s energy contributed to a calm atmosphere. Since mine clearly didn’t, I was banished to stay behind in the waiting room.
I wasn’t equipped to handle shit like this. Relationships, I could run away from. Hell, I’d never really had one. Parents, I could avoid—even more so when they didn’t even want me around. Jobs, I could quit. But my dogs? My dogs were my world. The only creatures I surrendered my heart to willingly and unconditionally. My siblings and nieces and nephews were the exception, though that was different. I didn’t need them for my everyday well-being. I didn’t have to see them every day. Rosie, Percy, and Oppy were my own little family. I depended on them almost as much as they depended on me.
I did need Soph now, though. She had a calming aura about her.
My knee bounced restlessly as I fidgeted with my phone and glanced toward David’s exam rooms. He had two of them and one area for surgery.
By now, Benjamin had taken his spot behind the desk and was eating yogurt for breakfast.
I released a nervous breath and scrolled down my messages until I found Soph. Last I’d heard from her were a few angry texts after I’d left Washington.
I didn’t wanna call her, considering the hour. It was too early in Camassia. Plus, they had Isabella. She was what, two months old now? Something like that. After David and Melissa’s fifth child, I’d stopped keeping track of ages and birthdays.
I opted to text Soph instead.
Except, I didn’t know what to type. My thumb hovered over the keyboard as I racked my brain for the right words. Did I start with an apology? I couldn’t do that. Judging by the number of times I’d messed up in my day, one might think I was used to handing out apologies, but I wasn’t. When I asked for forgiveness, it was a big deal to me, and it sure as heck didn’t happen over the phone or in a text.
I’d never apologized for ignoring a curfew or coming home wasted as a kid. I’d never apologized for being late to work—or for not showing up at all and then getting canned. Nor had I apologized for bailing in the past. My family knew that about me, and it wasn’t where they counted on me. I drew a line in the sand for each case, and I picked my battles based on what hurt others. And how much I cared. I didn’t fucking care about the employer who ignored safety measures in order to get the job done faster. Fuck him. I also hadn’t cared about stumbling home at the crack of dawn to find my father waiting on the porch with a glare in place.
That was part of growing up.
When I apologized, it was because I knew I’d crossed a line that genuinely hurt others. An apology from me was also a guarantee that whatever I’d done would never happen again.
To David, that line was drawn at baptisms. It was the one occasion that meant the world to him. So after I’d missed his eldest daughter’s baptism and seen how it had affected him, I’d asked for forgiveness and never missed another one.
My mother had never been able to handle shit-talk about her religion. She took that incredibly personally, so I’d apologized the time I, uh, I hung a pentagram on the mantle. She hadn’t appreciated that joke one bit.
Soph… I owed her a big apology for lying to her. I knew how much she valued her friendship with Sebastian, and I had promised I was going to tell him about the program for Teddy that Mom had found in Atlanta. And I never did. I’d chickened out because I’d known that Sebastian was gonna flip.
Lying was the one thing you didn’t do to my sister. It was why she’d been the first one I’d come out to over ten years ago. She’d overheard me on the phone with some guy.
I guessed talking to her was gonna have to wait until I got to Washington.
I pocketed my phone again and bit at a cuticle.
“I’m sure your dog will be fine, Blake,” Benjamin said.
I hated sugarcoating and empty words, so I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge him. If Rosie turned out to be sick, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do. She was almost eleven years old. At best, she had another three years. Which was enough to throw money at if it was something that could be cured. But I’d been around dogs my whole life, and… Fuck. I wasn’t ready to lose her.
I stayed at my brother’s place for a week while we waited for the results to come back, and he’d prepared me for the worst. He’d been honest with his suspicions, and I loathed that he turned out to be right.
I knew that before he even told me, because he came home in the middle of the day when the kids were in school or day care, and he sat down with me on the porch steps.
