“You . . .” Travis’s voice trailed off. “There’s nothing wrong between you two, is there?”
Something in his brother’s voice had him pausing.
Then there was a weird, niggling sensation in his gut.
Worry—
Narrowing his eyes, he came back out of the bathroom. “What’s the deal?”
Travis stared at him, dead in the eye. And fucking lied. “I don’t know what you mean. Well, other than the fact that you obviously are pissed off. So—”
“Stop,” Trey said softly, shaking his head. He moved toward his brother, watching as Travis went silent, head going back as Trey closed the distance. “You’re lying. You seem to forget that weird thing, how you can always tell when I’m mad, fucked up or pissed . . . it works both ways. And you’re lying. What is going on?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Travis just stared at him. His eyes were level, his face blank.
And this time, there was a curious void inside Trey, the way he felt when he either worked hard to keep himself down, or when Travis was trying to do that with him.
Which only made him that much more convinced that Travis was lying.
They were as close as two brothers—as twins—could be. Or they had been. Until . . . Trey tried to pinpoint when it had started, when he’d realized his brother was keeping secrets. It hadn’t been recent. He’d understood, realized there were probably things they’d just not tell each other. He hadn’t told his twin how much he blamed himself over Aliesha’s death, although he knew Travis suspected. He hadn’t told his twin how he’d just looked at her . . . and known.
Nor had he told Travis how he’d looked at Ressa and felt a punch in the gut, something primal, possessive, even more powerful than what he’d felt with Aliesha.
No, they didn’t tell each other everything. Even they had their secrets.
But Travis kept some dark ones.
Now, with only inches between them, Trey realized those secrets had grown into a distance and somehow, they were turning the man in front of him into somebody Trey wasn’t sure he knew. “You’re lying,” he said again. “You think something’s wrong . . . and I get the weirdest feeling you know exactly what it is.”
Travis’s gaze fell away, and a hard, tight knot settled in Trey’s gut.
Curling one hand into a fist, he demanded, “What do you know? And how the fuck do you know?”
Travis’s eyes glittered. The lines at the corners tightened. He opened his mouth.
The tension inside Trey gathered, mounted. Part of him felt like . . . finally.
But then Travis just shrugged. “Look, I don’t know what you’re so worked up about. It’s not like Ressa and I were sitting around braiding each other’s hair or anything. I don’t know shit. But clearly there’s something—what the—”
Trey shoved him back, hard. The sound of him slamming into the wall was sweet, so sweet he was tempted to do it again.
Twisted up in his own frustration, in his own worry, he didn’t see the pallor that came across his twin’s face.
One hand balled up into a fist and he reached up, snagged the front of Travis’s shirt, half thinking that maybe what they both needed was to just pound on each other. It had helped when they were younger. Why not—
He jerked Travis forward.
The pain that split through Trey’s side had him stumbling back, letting go of his brother’s shirt. Travis staggered, his hand flying out as he fought for his balance. Trey caught him, steadied him.
“You son of a bitch,” he said, guiding Travis over to the bed. “Don’t give me this shit that you’ve just had a rough few weeks at work. And I don’t want to hear that you’ve been sick, either.”
Mentally, he kicked his own ass for forgetting, because he knew something had been wrong. He knew . . . and his anger, his frustration had just made him lose sight of that.
Travis didn’t say anything as Trey helped him onto the bed, his face hard as stone, and when Trey straightened, his twin’s eyes were unreadable. He didn’t even look at Trey for long before he jerked his eyes away, staring at some point on the wall.
Trey clenched his jaw, fighting for control. It wasn’t coming. He breathed in through his nose, blew it out. Tried it again, but nothing was clearing the fog from his head. There was still a dull throb of pain in his side, and he glanced at his brother, eyes instinctively going to the same area on Travis.
For the first few seconds, he wasn’t even sure what he was staring at.
He figured it out about the same time Travis realized there was a problem.
Travis went to twist away at the same time Trey shot out a hand, catching the hem of his brother’s faded gray T-shirt. “It’s nothing—” Travis tried to say.
“Shut the fuck up or I’m going to put you flat on your ass,” Trey warned. “And right now, I think we both know I can.”
* * *
Actually, that wasn’t true. Travis stared into his twin’s eyes, debated on whether or not to just get the hell out of there, leave Norfolk for a while, disappear, but that wasn’t the answer.
No, Trey couldn’t put him on his ass.
But in his condition, he’d have to hurt his twin.
The one thing he could never do.
Swearing, he smacked Trey’s hands away. “Let me up. I’ll show you, as long as you keep your mouth shut.”
Trey looked like he wanted to argue—no. He did want to argue.
“You keep it quiet,” Travis warned. “I’m not in trouble. There’s nothing wrong. But I know how this is going to look and I don’t need everybody freaking out.”
Trey’s eyes narrowed. “If you think I’m not aware of the fact that you’ve been up to some weird shit, then you’re not giving me much credit. Show me what the hell is wrong. Then we’ll discuss it.”
It was the best he was going to get. He’d managed to tear stitches open and he was bleeding—thanks to the hard-ass a few feet away. He forgot sometimes—they looked so much alike and shared a bond nobody could understand, and yet, they were so completely different. Except . . . not. Trey, in his own way, was every bit the same stubborn bastard Travis was.
And Travis had made the serious mistake of forgetting that.
Look where it had put him.
He needed to get the wound redressed and bandaged and he needed one of those lousy painkillers, too. With a grimace, he caught the shirt and worked it up.
Trey’s low hiss had him closing his eyes.
It was a damn good thing he was getting out.
He’d never be able to keep this up now, and his brother wouldn’t let it rest until he had answers.
Holding the shirt with its spotty blood stain, he looked at Trey and waited.
For the longest time, Trey just stared. Then he turned away. “I guess this is one of those things you’re not going to explain to me, isn’t it?”
Travis knew better than to say anything.
Trey just nodded. “Okay. Let’s try this again.”
Exhausted already, Travis glared at his twin’s back even as he tried to figure what he could say. The answer was next to nothing. It would piss Trey off, too, but Travis didn’t know how he could explain the bullet hole in his side. It didn’t look so much like a bullet hole now, of course, and even if it did, it wasn’t like his brother had a lot of experience with that—
“Ressa’s cousin is in jail. She’s had some trouble with the cops, too. I don’t think I even know half of what’s going on. Now . . . you want to tell me how you already know about it?”
Trey turned as he spoke and the question caught Travis off guard so he wasn’t able to hide his reaction in time.
And his twin saw it on his face.
He didn’t even have to say anything. They’d never been able to lie to each other, not worth shit. So instead of trying, he just lifted his shoulder—the one not on his injured side—but it still had that awful pain lurching through him.
“Just how do you
know, Travis? Is that something a forensic accountant is typically going to do? Go digging around in the background of a girl his brother dates?”
Travis shrugged again.
“Nice answer. Let’s try this one—does the typical forensic accountant even now where to start to go digging about that? You didn’t even know I was dating anybody—hell, not all that long ago, I wasn’t dating anybody.”
“You’ve been together since I got here,” Travis said softly. And he could have known within a couple hours of that vague warning. She’d all but challenged him, and because he’d known it would eat at him until he knew, he’d looked. He’d spent the past few days brooding over it, too. Brooding, debating . . . thinking. And he’d come to the exact same conclusion he suspected his brother would.
Now he didn’t have the kind of feelings for Ressa that Trey did, but if he was in Trey’s shoes?
He wouldn’t give a damn.
He’d seen what it was like—with his parents, with Zach and Abby—and before he’d lost her, with Trey and Aliesha. Trey knew what it felt like to have those kind of feelings.
“What does it matter anyway?” he asked. “It’s not like it’s going to change anything for you. You’re already gone over on her. Anybody with eyes can see that.”
“No.” The ice in Trey’s eyes didn’t fade. “It doesn’t change anything.”
Then he blew out a breath and leaned back against the wall. “Complicate things? Well, yeah, that’s probably going to happen, but . . . no. It doesn’t change what I feel.” He slanted a look at his twin. “And not the issue. I just want to know how you know. And why you bothered to even go looking—and how the fuck you even knew to look . . . son of a bitch.”
Trey turned away and shoved a hand through his hair.
Travis felt the tension knot inside him, while in the back of his mind, something buzzed—no. Clicked. A piece of a puzzle falling into place, a sensation he knew all too well. But he wasn’t the one who’d figured something out. Lowering his gaze, he stared at the bloody bandage with its ever growing stain of red.
“You knew something that day, didn’t you?” Trey murmured, turning back to look at him. “She acted . . . off. Like something was bugging her off and on half the day—it was you, wasn’t it?”
Aw, shit. “Look, Trey—”
“Answer me!” The shout rang through the house, catching both of them off guard.
But Trey didn’t back down, he came across the floor, fury in every line of his body. “How in the hell did you even know to dig up anything about her? You didn’t even know her name until that day—or you shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t.” Travis could say that much, honestly. “I didn’t . . .”
He stopped, fumbling for anything he could say. He’d told too many lies, given too many half truths. Even the lies of omission—did it even matter that he was doing his job? Trying to . . . trying to what?
That small voice nagged at him, more and more. The one that had made him realize he was done.
Beyond done.
And he couldn’t lie here. Not to Trey, not anymore. “Look, I didn’t know anything about Ressa until you introduced me to her.”
He’d thought about digging into her background, yeah. But he hadn’t. And now he could tell his brother the truth. Looking Trey dead in the eye, he gave his twin what precious little honesty he could these days. “I wouldn’t have gone digging around for any information but she . . .”
“What?” Trey demanded caustically. “You got a funny feeling? What the fuck are you? Hell. Are you with the CIA? You got that many secrets anymore.”
Travis grimaced. “No. I didn’t have a funny feeling. She did. She said something to me that afternoon . . . told me that whatever I found out, she hoped I’d remember she did care about you. And for the record, again, I didn’t plan on digging around about her. I didn’t feel like I had to—I like her.”
“Why the fuck would she say anything to you?” Trey stared at him, while a flicker of something—hurt, distrust—flashed through his eyes.
I should have just gone to bed, Travis thought, frustrated.
“She pegged me for a cop or something—I’m not—and don’t ask anymore because I’m sick and fucking tired of lying, but I can’t tell you.” Wearily, he leaned against the wall, head falling against it. Absently, he touched his side as the pain there radiated out. Wet heat met his hand and he looked down at the blood that had already soaked through. He needed to get to his room and dig out the medical kit. He had some butterfly bandages that would help close it back up.
“Can’t tell me?” Trey’s voice dripped with scorn. “How about you won’t tell me?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Snarling, he shoved off the wall and that sent another lance of pain ripping through him. Which only served to make him madder. “Would you use your damned brain? You’re not an idiot. Can’t means just that. I can’t. There are reasons. Now put your brain to use.”
Trey opened his mouth, a sneer quivering on his lips. At the same time, Travis was mentally kicking his ass. The pain, the frustration, all of it was making him stupid. Too many years of lying to people he loved, who loved him. There were reasons why most of the people in his line of work didn’t have families. Slowly, he turned to the door. “If I was in trouble, I’d tell you, okay?”
No. He wouldn’t. But he wouldn’t come here if he was in any sort of trouble. No way in hell. He’d never risk his family and his family was the number one reason he was getting out.
He hadn’t quite cleared the door when Trey’s voice stopped him.
“So I guess this means you’re really not a forensic accountant.”
He rested a hand on the door jam, closed his eyes. “Sure I am. It says so on my tax return, doesn’t it?”
“That doesn’t mean jackshit.” Trey was closer now and Travis glanced over his shoulder. “If you’re not in trouble then why the hell are you leaking blood all over yourself?”
“I got hurt. I just tore some stitches. It will be fine.”
Their gazes locked and held. Then Trey looked away. “You’ve been lying to us for a long time, haven’t you?”
He couldn’t even respond to that. Not just because it would take another lie, but because there was nothing he could say that would make it better.
But he had to say something. “It’s not going to be like this much longer,” he said.
And saying those words, it was like a weight fell from him. A knot loosened within him and he blew out a breath as some of the tension he’d carried for years just faded. “It won’t be much longer. I just have to . . . handle some things.”
With that, he headed down the hall.
He’d clean himself up. Wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before. Then he’d get some rest.
And next time his brother was brooding over a woman, he’d leave him to it.
Who in the hell was he to offer advice on it anyway? The last time he’d had a serious relationship had been . . .
He pushed the thought of it aside.
Yeah. It had been that long ago, and look at how that had ended.
Chapter Twenty-five
A week passed and every single day, she felt the absence of him.
She made plans with Mama Ang to go see Kiara the following Saturday, and each day she dreaded the trip more and more. Each day, she opened her eyes and thought about getting through another day without talking to Trey, seeing him.
They were supposed to be thinking about things.
The only thing she could think about was how much she missed him . . . and how much easier everything wasn’t with him gone.
Oh, she saw him a couple of times—hard to avoid it when they both dropped the kids off at school. Trey in his gleaming truck and her all but slumping down behind the wheel of the Mustang so she didn’t have to face him. They’d seen each other in the drop-off line more than once, and on her day off, she’d seen him in the pick-up line, although she doubted he’d seen her.
<
br /> “Are you mad at Mr. Trey?” Neeci had asked.
“No, baby. Why?”
“Because you don’t talk to him anymore.”
Oh . . . but I want to.
“We’ve just been busy.”
Busy . . . yeah, right.
She thought maybe it was just the right thing to do, let things cool off while she thought everything through.
The question is . . . can you?
Those words reverberated through her head, tying her up into knot after knot, and she was already a mess over Kiara. Mama Ang said she’d gotten a similar call from her and they made the plans.
Although Angeline hadn’t said anything, Ressa knew the call had taken a toll on her.
Maybe Trey had tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault, but she still carried the blame. And much of it was because she saw what it had done to the kind, gentle woman who’d changed her life—who’d given her a life—one worth having.
Maybe Mama Ang didn’t blame her, but Ressa sure as hell blamed herself for the trouble she’d brought into the lives of her aunt and cousin.
Her aunt had ended up asking her next-door neighbor to help with Neeci. When Neeci heard she’d be spending the day with Miss Latrice, she’d sulked. Can’t we ask if I can go play with Clay? I wanna see Clay.
That only made Ressa feel worse, because this was straining the friendship between two kids who clearly adored each other. So I’ll fix it. She made herself that promise. But first . . . she had to get through seeing her cousin. Get that off her plate.
Saturday rolled around and although the sun gleamed golden in a clear blue sky, Ressa felt like she was trapped in a bank of thunderclouds.
She was miserable.
She missed Trey.
The question is . . . can you?
She was starting to realize she’d have to deal with it, because she didn’t think she could handle anything else that didn’t involve having him in her life.
There was a knock at the door and Ressa groaned, rolling her head over to stare at the clock. But first, she had to figure out why her aunt was nearly two hours early.
Busted (Barnes Brothers #3) Page 28