Happiness is Earned (Second Chances Book 3), page 36
“I’ve got nothing to ask you,” he says, giving me another weird look.
“Well, I’ve got something to ask you,” I say, turning in my seat so that I’m looking more at him than at the road.
I’m actually glad that I’m not driving right now. It means I get to focus on him properly, rather than worry he’s going to jump out of the passenger door.
“What do you want to know?” He sounds resigned here, and I bet he thinks I’m going to have a go about whatever he’s been doing over the past couple of days.
“I want to know what’s going on with you,” I say, softening my usually crisp tone of voice into a more gentle one. If I didn’t think he’d lose his shit, I’d emit some peaceful vibes into the air, using my animal’s magnetism to give him the reassurance he needs.
Cevon sighs. “I’m not above kicking you out of this car. Just sit silently, and let’s get through this drive without needing to hold hands and sing kumbaya.”
I roll my eyes, refusing to let him see that he’s amusing me. It’ll only encourage him to do it more. “I’m your brother. You can’t kick me out for asking how you’re doing.”
“Are you, though?” Cevon asks. “Because it feels like I’m only your brother when it suits you.”
“Whoa,” I say, confused. Have I really been acting that way? Have I been pushing him so far out of the picture he doesn’t even think I treat him like he’s my brother? Like we share blood? Like I love him? “Where’s that coming from?”
“Where do you think it’s coming from?” Cevon asks angrily. Fuck, the depth of his anger shocks me. “I came to you the other day, Nix, and you pushed me away.”
The broken way he says that pisses me off. Not because I’m angry at him, but because I’m mad at myself.
I take a deep breath, ready to explain that. Ready to explain how badly I fucked up. “I know and I’m—”
He shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh as he avoids looking my way. “Forget about it. I told Nora I’m going to try, and I will.”
“I don't want to forget about it—” I start.
“And it’s just about your wants, is it?” I can’t understand his feelings here, they rushed through the bond he has with Nora so fast, and he’s now buried it with disinterest over the top of it so I can’t see.
I bet Nora could. I bet she could weave past that and figure it out.
Alas, I’m not my beautiful mate, and, instead, I’m his brother. The bond is a bonus, but it shouldn’t be the thing that I rely on to get through to him.
We’re not going to forget about the way I acted when he came to me for help because I want him to understand why I didn’t push, and why I’m going to make sure that I do next time.
“Okay, so what are you going to try?” I want to come across as supportive and non-judgemental here, but based on the dirty look he shoots me, I’m worried I didn’t.
“I’m going to try and be a better mate.”
I could’ve sat here for hours imagining what he’d say, and that would never be something that I’d have thought up. For all his faults, he’s not a bad mate. “What the actual fuck? Cev, man, you’re not a bad mate.”
And there we go, the shutters appear on his face, his jaw tensing. Once again, I’ve fucked it. I squeeze my hands into fists and try not to show how mad I am. I don’t want him thinking I’m pissed at him when it’s me who is fucking up.
Don’t be judgemental, I think. What the fuck, I say. Really, Atticus?
I’m frustrated with myself for not giving him the support he needs. I just… hearing him once again talk badly about himself? It’s not on track with the conversation we had when Nora was just out of her heat where he was talking about how she’s facing her demons, and now it’s his turn.
He seemed receptive to help then.
But this weekend? It’s as if he’s a completely different man.
I know that depression ebbs and flows, and it can get worse pretty easily. When it was Nora, we rallied.
But with Cevon? I retreated.
I’m continuously fucking up.
“Can we… can we go find somewhere to eat?” I ask, wanting to lose the distraction of him driving.
“No,” Cevon days dryly.
Okay, well that’s that avenue out. I check the dashboard, seeing how long the GPS says that we have left. Five hours. Fucking perfect.
We’re the only two in this car, so I’m now glad I got booted out of Nora’s car, and I’ve got plenty of time to make him talk to me.
“I hate what Dad did to you,” I say, trying a different topic.
He’s not ready to talk about the present.
But maybe the past might be a good place to start and will let us springboard into the here and now.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Cevon says, pressing down on the accelerator a little and speeding us up. It’s not like he’s going to manage to cut this journey short enough that a conversation will end, so I don’t bother critiquing.
“What are the chances that I’m going to be able to convince you to put some headphones on, and leave me alone?”
“Not going to happen.”
He groans. “Right. Well, would you like to drive? We can make a trade. You driving, me getting some silence.”
A smile flits across my face because trades were something we used to do as kids. “Nope. I want to talk about your emotions.”
“Lovely. You’ve turned into a fucking hippie in the time I’ve been gone.”
“Get used to it,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Why?” Cevon demands, eyeing me up with distrust in his eyes before turning back to the road. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I’m not the only one who wants to talk all about what’s going on inside your head.”
“Send me to George, Atticus, and I’m never going to come back. Fuck, actually, I’m going to crash this car and take us both out before you can even put the wheels in motion.”
I bark out a laugh, and his shoulders relax ever so slightly. “I’m not sending you to George.” He breathes out a sigh of relief. “Micah has got us to buy a hot tub.”
“Good for Micah.”
He speeds up even further, having overtaken Malachi’s car, and I know I’ll hear about that once we get home. Mal’s taking the security measures very seriously, especially since Orson’s not here to back us up.
I don’t know if Cevon thinks frightening me is going to make me shut up, or if he’s determined to actually crash the car. But, either way, I’m still alive for now and still going to talk. A lot of injuries would have to occur for me to die in a car crash, and Cevon doesn’t have the balls to actually kill me.
“It’s going to be some pack bonding for us, so it’s not just for Micah.”
“I didn’t sign up for pack bonding,” he mutters, furrowing his brows together. He turns to me, confused, and eases off the gas pedal a little. “What pack?”
I scrunch my nose up, not sure if he’s just being obtuse or if he genuinely doesn’t feel like he’s part of the pack. “Nora’s pack. The only pack we’re part of.”
“I’m in a pride, as you keep reminding me,” he says, his hands going white with the way he’s tightening them on the wheel.
“I haven’t brought that point up in years,” I say, and I can’t keep the heat out of my tone. I should, since him opening up is what I want, but it’s still very fucking frustrating. “But you’re also part of Nora’s pack. We’re her mates, and we’re a unit in our own right.”
“Are we? Are we really, though, Atticus?” He tuts, taking the right turn rather hard in his frustration. “It’s always the same with you, isn’t it? We’re elite because we’re cats, but fuck every other animal.”
That last sentence was dripping with pure poison, and the hostility I smell from him burns my nostrils.
“I’ve never said that,” I say, and I haven’t—even all those years ago when I was trying to keep him in the pride. It’s not the truth, and definitely not something I believe. My pride is about 50% feline, sure, but that’s only because we migrate to each other, and it’s instinct to seek out the strongest of our kind to lead us. Wolves are usually exclusive to their kind, and I have very few within the pride—although that has recently gone up with David, Crystal, and her family joining us.
But we’ve got an astounding amount of humans and other shifters, both common and rare within the normal realm of wild animals and mythical creatures.
I’m not elitist and don’t look down on other types of shifters, and I resent the fact that he thinks I do.
“Didn’t you?” The cocky arrogance in which he says that, as if it’s a slam dunk of a statement, pisses me off.
“I told you that your tiger-hating tiger mate should try being with her own kind to get over her trauma. I wasn’t doing that because I’m some elitist who thinks that wolves are beneath me,” I say.
Unless it comes to Nora in the bedroom—I love when she’s beneath me, especially when she’s taking my knot.
Probably best not to voice that aloud, though.
“My whole argument was to benefit her.” I sigh and shake my head when I can clearly smell Cevon’s disbelief. “Okay, fine, of course, it was to keep you around as well. But it’s not like I suggested it only for you. We’re a giant pride, and she would have been safe. Your child—”
“No,” Cevon says, cutting me off with a dark laugh. It causes tingles to race down my spine. “You don’t get to use him in your mind games.”
“Right,” I say, resting my head back. I get that, even if it annoys me. Cevon’s son—my fucking nephew—was never going to be part of my argument.
I was only going to say that he’d have been able to grow up with his kind.
Oh, fuck. Yeah, okay, I was going to try and use his presence in my points.
“I’m sorry.”
“Of course you are.”
“Why the fuck do you need to be such an asshole about this?” I demand. “Why won’t you just open up and communicate with me?”
Cevon glares at me, turns back to the road, and clenches his jaw almost as tightly as his hold on the steering wheel.
I don’t get it. We’re at such a disconnect, and I know most of it is my fault. Sure, I could take the blame for it all—but I won’t, and maybe that’s my issue.
The first attempt at opening up didn’t go well. It became bitter and full of arguments, where nothing really productive happened. If it were one of the guys—except Micah—I’d say let’s fight it out, and just work out the aggression that way.
Cevon and I… I don’t think that would go well in the slightest.
It’s a good thing we’ve got a good few more hours in this car so that I can give it another go.
I sit silently, playing Solitaire on my phone, waiting until he loses some of the aggression. There’s no point trying again whilst the emotions are still high.
I got over my own pride and frustration pretty quickly because my ultimate goal is to help my brother and not belittle him. It’s just fucking annoying that my lion doesn’t understand and my mouth reacts quicker than my brain does.
“I’m sorry,” I say, when he’s relaxed completely.
“You’re sorry?” Cevon asks. There’s genuine surprise on his face, and it both upsets me and reassures me that I was in the right to wait. “Why?”
“For a few things, but mainly about my behaviour on Saturday. When you came to me, I didn’t push further. I could tell that something was off, but I thought I’d sit back and let you process it on your own. That was wrong of me.” I shake my head, giving him a sad look. “I thought maybe it was having us in your house where you lived with Lainey, and you just needed the time alone to process.”
“Whoa.” His brows draw together even further, the wrinkles in his forehead showing me he’s surprised. “I didn’t live there with Lainey.”
“Well, no, obviously, I’ve realised that now,” I say, laughing a little. “But at the time, I was so focused on Riverstone that I ignored you. In my head, I thought if I didn’t make it a big deal, then it wouldn’t be one.”
That if I didn’t make it a big deal, then he’d stick around.
I debate it… before admitting that thought out loud to him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Atticus. I’d never do that to Nora.”
I nod slowly. “I wish I was the reason you wanted to stick around.”
He snorts now, a cheeky smile appearing on his face. “If you were willingly to bend over and—”
“Yeah, no.” I fake gagging, and he bursts out laughing.
“I think you pushing me away that day upset me more than it should have,” Cevon says, glancing down at his hands on the wheel before looking back at the road.
He doesn’t say anything else, and I give him a verbal nudge, hoping he’ll continue. It seems to work.
“I was upset by the fact that you didn’t push to figure out what was wrong with me, and it only pissed me off so much more. Fuck, it drove me even more into the dark thoughts I was having, proving them to be right.” He reaches up and tucks his hair behind his ear, regarding me before smiling slightly. “But, right now, when I’m not entangled with the darkness, and my brain’s not trying to beat me down and force me into a box of pain and misery, it really helps having the apology. So, thank you. I appreciate it.”
I give him a genuine smile before my main worry comes to the forefront of my mind. He’s been open and honest, and I’m going to just ask. “Nora tried to kill herself. Do you feel that low? Is your life in danger?”
“No. I’m not going to kill myself,” Cevon says with an eye roll. “Why does everyone think that?”
“Maybe because you’re a bit depressed, and we’ve not been giving you the support you deserve,” I say, offering one explanation. “And who is everyone?”
“Nora,” he says, tapping his finger against the wheel as we wait at the junction to turn.
“When was this? Last night?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Where did the two of you go?” He wouldn’t tell us last night, just made jokes about taking her to Lainey’s grave and doing some disgustingly illicit acts, but when his eyes light up in amusement, and a dark grin overtakes his face, I realise they were not jokes. “You really took her to the grave of your dead mate?”
Cevon nods, and he chokes on air, swerving the car slightly to the left before righting it. I grab him a bottle of water from my bag, and he drains it, causing me to frown.
“I don’t want to sound like Orson here,” I say, taking the empty bottle and putting it into the bag. “But are you drinking enough?”
“Water? No,” he replies, shaking his head. “I’ve been slightly busy. I’ll be fine, though.”
“Sure you will.” I send Orson a text because, honestly, I don’t want to have to chase my brother around to make sure he’s hydrated, but I know Orson will get off on it. Plus, it’ll benefit Cevon to be brought into the group further.
Or maybe I’m just a dick.
Ordinarily, I’d press to find out what’s keeping Cevon busy, especially after what’s gone down on his side of things this weekend, but, right now, I want to stay on the feelings topic.
I don't want to move on when we’re finally connecting.
“Our dad fucked me up,” Cevon says. I’m surprised by the change of conversation, but I listen anyway. “From as young as I can remember, he would sit and belittle me, abuse me, mentally fucking scar me just because he could. I swear, he got off on it.” He shakes his head, slamming his hands into the wheel.
I remain calm, and he takes a deep breath before holding the wheel properly as he rights our car.
This moment right here shows the depth of my fuck ups. It shows how deep the abuse has wormed its way into his brain, but more than that… it shows how blind I was.
I failed him.
“Fuck, that prick was the original negative cunt. He was the one who would twist my words and actions, gaslighting me and making me feel small—smaller than I was since I was a fucking kid. Every negative thought I now have is one that he used to say to me, just altered slightly to fit whatever is happening. His face is the one I see in the mirror when I criticise myself. You know the voice inside your head, the one that talks when you hear things or read things?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, most of the time, mine is him,” Cevon says, and I frown. I fucking hate that. “Whenever the voice is nasty and negative, whenever it’s trying to put me down and beat me back into the little corner I’ve barely escaped from… it’s Dad.”
That makes me feel like shit. But I don’t want to say that because then I’m doing that thing Nora talks about. I’d be making him make me feel better about something he’s sharing. That’s not his job.
But it also doesn’t change my feelings.
“That’s my fault,” I say, clenching my fists tight to stop the shift overtaking me. “I was blind to it.”
“It’s not your fault,” Cevon says. “It was mine.”
“No,” I snap, angry at him for even thinking that. “You don’t get to blame yourself, Cevon. You were a victim. I was the older brother. I should have protected you.”
“You being the older brother is the only reason you didn’t need to protect yourself,” Cevon says. “Fuck, if there was a third one of us… I can only imagine how much they would have suffered. He’d have abused the fuck out of them. The only reason I think he kept me around at all was that I’m the spare. If anything happened to you? He’d have needed me for the line of succession. The fact that you are the oldest is the only reason you got to get that golden child life, Atticus.”
My jaw clenches, but he keeps talking, barrelling past my opening. His dark tone of voice makes me worry, and I hate how badly he’s dealing with all of this.
“I kept it from you, and that was my decision. You can’t blame yourself for that,” Cevon continues. “Yeah, sure, of course, at some point, I was scared that you wouldn’t believe me or maybe even that it would damage our relationship. But that wasn’t the biggest issue.”
“So, what was the biggest issue?” I ask when he doesn’t share.
“My worry was that if I told you, and you were able to realise what was going on… that Dad wouldn’t need to hide it any longer.” My eyes widen, and my throat burns. “Even now, I think if I had told you about it, that you’d not have been able to do a single thing, and he’d not need to hide it.”
