Til Debt Do Us Part (Married At Midnight #4)

Chapter 21

Twenty-One

Dare

I 've been summoned.

The rotting wooden stairs groan under my Italian loafers, years of salt and sun bleaching the once cherry-red boards a pale gray. At the bottom, the boathouse comes into view—weathered shingles curling up at the edges, cobwebs clinging to corners.

And there he is. Burn.

Scraping at the hull of our grandfather's prized mahogany speedboat, a tumbler of whiskey sweating in his other hand. The sharp tang of alcohol and burnt wood chips assaults my senses, dragging me back to our boyhood.

I clear my throat. Burn startles, the knife slipping. A bead of crimson wells on his thumb.

Our eyes lock. Blue on blue.

How many times did we stand like this as children, sizing each other up before launching into a fight?

Burn recovers first, wiping the blood on his trousers. "You came." His voice is rough, strained.

"You asked." The words taste bitter on my tongue. I promised Talia I'd make an effort, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten.

Or forgiven my selfish bastard of a brother.

Burn looks away, scanning the hull for imaginary imperfections. "I know I don't deserve it, after...everything. But Talia's right. It's time to bury the hatchet. If not for us, then for the baby."

The baby. My baby. I flex my hands, fighting the urge to clench them into fists. He has no right to claim any part of my child's life, not after what he did.

But Talia wants this. And I can deny her nothing.

I jerk my head toward the boathouse. "You have whiskey. I have time."

The corners of Burn's mouth twitch. Not quite a smile, but close enough.

He passes me the tumbler wordlessly. I take a swig, savoring the slow burn down my throat.

Maybe this is what it takes to move on. Whiskey and uneasy truces.

Burn carries the bottle out to the dock. It's the middle of the day but there is a definite chill once we take off our shoes, roll ourpant legs up, and sit on the dock's edge. I dangle my feet and stare out at the sea, the waves crashing against the shore in a steady, rhythmic beat.

It's been years since Burn and I have spoken like this. Since we've been brothers, instead of enemies. And even now, with Talia and the baby between us, it's hard to let go of the past. But I have totry. For the sake of my family.

"So, what now?" I ask, my voice gruff.

Burn takes a long sip of whiskey before answering. "I don't know. Maybe we could start by apologizing. Really apologizing."

I snort. "You think a simple sorry is going to make it all okay?"

Burn shakes his head, "No, but it's a start. Look, Dare, I know I messed up. I shouldn't have slept with Talia in the first place. And stealing Daisy... I shouldn't have hurt you like that. But you have to understand, it wasn't just about her. It was about me feeling like I could never measure upto you. Like I was always living in your shadow."

I stare at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. He looks back at me, his eyes clear and earnest. Maybe he's telling the truth. Maybe he's just trying to manipulate me again. But I can't keep living like this, always second-guessing myself and everything around me.

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that has happened between us. "I appreciate the apology, Burn. But there's more to it than that. You slept with Talia and now she's carrying your child."

"Yeah." My brother's gaze is on the horizon. "I think we both know that that baby isn't mine. Not really."

I blink at him, surprised. "I thought that you were going to be a complete prick about the baby."

He shrugs. "I'm full of surprises today."

We both fall silent. The constant slap of the water against the dock can't fill the air between us. I realize just now that I've been tensed for a fight between us that might or might not happen. Cracking my knuckles, I take a deep breath and blow it out, willing my muscles to relax.

"So, what's it like?" Burn's voice is low, hesitant.

I glance over at him, surprised. "What's what like?"

He shrugs, looking sheepish. "Being married. Being...in love."

I snort, taking another swig of whiskey.

Burn sits across from me, nursing his own drink. The silence stretches, full of things unsaid. I clear my throat. "Talia wants me to forgive you. She's so fucking gracious that I want to shake her."

He flinches. "I don't deserve her forgiveness. Or yours."

"No. You don't." I take another swig of whiskey. "But she's carrying my heir. So for my daughter's sake...I'm willing to try."

Burn's eyes snap to mine, wide with surprise.

"A girl," he echoes faintly. He passes a hand over his face, looking suddenly weary. Older than his years. "Christ, Dare. I'm going to be an uncle."

"If I allow it." The words come out harsher than I intend, a reflexive response to the thought of Burn in my daughter's life. I sigh. "Talia wants her daughter to know the family. She's so anxious for everybody to get along."

"I understand." Burn stares into his glass. When he looks up again, his eyes are troubled. "Dare, I... what I did, taking Talia--"

"Don't." I cut him off with a sharp gesture. "I'm not ready to hear your apologies about that. Not yet."

He nods, accepting. "Will you ever be?"

I consider it. The tumbler is empty; I tilt it to catch the last drops. "I don't know," I say at last. "Maybe, in time. But first..." I meet his gaze, willing him to understand. "First you have to prove you've really changed."

Burn looks away. Takes a long swallow of whiskey. When he turns back, his jaw is set in a familiar stubborn line.

"I'll try my hardest to convince you I have."

The silence stretches between us, thick and cloying. I stare out at the swell and pitch of the sea beyond us, listening to the rhythm of Burn's breathing.

Finally, he speaks. "Dare, say something. Anything."

I turn to find him watching me with a mix of hope and apprehension. My brother, who was once my best friend. Now a stranger.

"Did you ever truly love her?" The question escapes before I can stop it. "Daisy, I mean. Or was it all just a game to you?"

Burn flinches. "I cared for Daisy," he says slowly. "As much as I was capable of, at the time. But you were right about her. About the type of woman she was." His mouth twists. "The type of man I was, to go along with her schemes."

"And now?" I press. "What type of man are you now?"

"I don't know." He smiles without humor. "Trying to be better, I suppose. The type of man who won't make the same mistakes."

I study him, searching for any sign of deceit. But his face is open, his tone sincere. Maybe - just maybe - he means it.

"Dare." Burn leans forward, hands clasped between his knees. "I know I have no right to ask this. Not after everything I've done. But I want us to be brothers again. To put the past behind us, once and for all."

His words awaken a yearning I've long tried to bury. A vision of two little boys racing along the beach, laughing in the sun. Before money and power and deceit came between us.

I clear my throat. "It won't be easy."

"I know."

"And if you betray me again - "

"I won't." Burn's eyes meet mine, hard as flint. "I swear to you, Dare, on our mother's grave. I will never betray you again."

The vow hits its mark. I feel the sharp ache of memory and it's not even touched by the burn of the whiskey I'm drinking. Our mother is the most sacred thing between the two of us lost souls.

If Burn's willing to swear on her memory...

I take a deep breath and extend my hand. "Brothers, then."

Burn's face floods with relief. He clasps my hand in both of his hands, grip strong. "Brothers," he echoes fiercely. "Always."

A smile tugs at my mouth as I look at him. My idiot brother. Maybe this is a mistake - but it feels right.

The sun breaks through the clouds as our hands meet, bathing the sea and shore in golden light. A sign, if ever there was one.

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes before Burn sighs. "Do you want to know how I know that Talia really loves you?"

I cock a brow at him. "I don't know, do I?"

Burn pulls out his cell and plays an audio file. Talia's voice filters through the speaker, soft but unwavering: "I will always love Dare. No matter what you do to me."

He turns it off and then stares off into the water. "I recorded that during her kidnapping. I was trying to convince her that she should be my wife instead of yours."

My heart clenches at the words. My hands itch to throttle Burn's neck.

"Why are you trying to remind me?" I hiss.

"Did you listen to what she said?" Burn looks at me, his gaze direct and intent. "She said that no matter what, she'll always love you. Most people would kill for that kind of affirmation."

I suck in a breath. "Replay it."

My twin obliges, putting his phone on the dock between us.

"I will always love Dare. No matter what you do to me," Talia says.

The depth of feeling in Talia's voice shakes me; she means every word.

Burn points to the phone. There is more, apparently.

"Come now, Talia. Be reasonable. Dare's just like the rest of us - he only cares about money and power. He'll never really love you,"Burn's tinny voice hisses.

"You're wrong," Talia says calmly. "Dare is different. He cares about people - about me. And I love him with all my heart."

The recording ends. I stare at the phone in Burn's hand, stunned into silence.

"Well?" Burn prompts. "What do you think now?"

"She really does love me," I say wonderingly. "I'm not sure how I managed that."

"Congratulations, brother. It seems you've found a keeper." Burn claps me on the shoulder, his expression somber. "Don't let this one get away."

"I won't," I promise.

But a niggling doubt remains: does Talia love the man, or the illusion of the man she's created?Does she love me, or my money?

It is a question that has been in the back of my mind ever since she said I do .

Burn's suggestion comes back to me. Perhaps the only way to know for sure is to destroy the illusion - strip away the wealth and privilege, the trappings of power - and see if Talia's love remains.It's a risk.

"I wish that you could prove Talia's loyalty," I say slowly.

He tilts his head to the side. "I just played a secret recording of Talia declaring that she loves you."

"But would she love me if I couldn't provide things she wants?"

A laugh burbles from his lips. "You're crazy."

"I'm serious."

Burn's eyes lock onto mine, the dim light from the antique chandelier casting haunting shadows across his chiseled face. It takes a long time before he answers.

"I've got an idea," he says, his voice low and urgent. "You could lie to Talia. Tell her you've been disinherited. That you'll be poor and have nothing. Gauge her reaction. Then you'll know whether she is staying with you for the money or for love."

As soon as Burn says it, I know that it needs to happen. Before I give myself to Talia completely, I just have to know how much of her love I bought and how much I actually inspired. My heart pounds in my chest as Burn's suggestion echoes through my mind.

It's a gamble, but it might just work. The truth is slippery and evasive, and the thought of living with this uncertainty is suddenly unbearable.

"You're right," I say quickly, my emotions running high. "It's the only way to know."

"Not the only way," Burn starts to point out.

But I'm not listening to a word he says.

The truth must be revealed; the veil of deception lifted. It's a dangerous game we're playing, one that could either cement our love or shatter it beyond repair. I know that I owe it not only to myself but to Talia as well.

"Tell her," I whisper to myself, steeling my resolve. "Tell her and let the chips fall where they may."