SEE NO EVIL (part two) by Chantal Fernando Acknowledgements Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven ...
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SEE NO EVIL (part two)
by Chantal Fernando
Acknowledgements Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Epilogue
All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyrighted material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission from the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author ’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author. CHANTAL FERNANDO Published December 2016 Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs Edited by Hot Tree Editing SEE NO EVIL is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author ’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Please do not take offense to the content, as it is FICTION. Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders, The authors acknowledges the trademarked status in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. Copyright © 2016 Chantal Fernando All rights reserved.
Acknowledgements A big thank you to Arijana Karcic at Cover It! Designs for your amazing talent and friendship. I kind of love you. You’re seriously the best. To Rose Tawil—Thank you so much for everything. I wouldn’t be able to function without you! You are one of the best souls I’ve ever come across. My beta reader Leeann Wright—thank you so much for your help. You are the best! Hot Tree Editing—Thank you for being so wonderful to work with. To my bestie Natalie Ram—Thank you for being the ultimate proof reader, and helping me whenever I need it, even though you’re super busy being your own girl boss. Love you, Mami. To my family—my parents, my sisters and my sons—I love you all. To my readers—I hope you love this book as much as I did writing it.
Chapter One Sylar “Did you put the wine in the fridge?” my brother Spencer asks me. I nod but don’t look up at him, not wanting to lose concentration from the task at hand. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asks me, sounding amused. He’s always amused in some form or another, and I like that about him. I’m thankful for it. I might not have been able to save him from the childhood we had, but the fact that he’s still a happy person says a lot about him. He’s strong, my brother. Or maybe he’s just better at burying things than I am—things like the past. “I’m trying to make the platter look good,” I mutter, moving the dip to the centre of the plate. Brielle loves platters, especially with wine. I want her to love this one, too, because I put it together. I don’t think I’ve ever hosted anything at my house before, for anyone. It’s usually just me, alone, or it’s me and my brother. I’m definitely a loner. I like having my space, and I don’t really like talking to random people. I don’t see the point in it. They don’t care about me, and I don’t care about them, so there is no use pretending. No one beside my brothers will ever know the real me, and that is a very lonely feeling. Brielle has pushed her way in through my boundaries, but she would run if she knew the things I’ve done. So she must never find out. “It looks fine,” Spencer says, and I can feel his gaze on me. “Are you doing okay? You haven’t been sleeping much.” I push the plate away. “I never sleep much.” “It’s gotten worse,” Spencer points out, brow furrowing. “I can hear you pacing. It’s always been bad, but it’s never been like this.” The nightmares have gotten worse, and this time, Brielle is in them. With me. In my hell. She doesn’t belong there, but it’s like I’ve dragged her there with me. I’m bringing her down to my level by touching her with my bloodied hands, by pretending I’m the kind of man who deserves her, when I’m not. And no one knows that better than me. Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I try and live in the moment instead. I’ve never had what I have now, and I shouldn’t take that feeling for granted. I head to my bathroom and turn the shower on,
the steam quickly filling the room as I undress. I can’t wait to have Brielle back in my bed tonight, her soft skin pressed against mine, her smooth hands against my rough, calloused ones. I get hard at just the thought of her, but I ignore my dick and step into the hot shower, letting the water cascade down my body. I’ve never let a place become a home for me before, but I feel like this could be it. The itchy feet I usually have are gone, probably because there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with Brielle. She caught my eye when I first saw her, standing behind the counter and laughing at something Christina said to her. Never did I think I’d ever catch her eye in return, and I never realized that I wanted to. Never. Everyone looks past me, and I like it that way. I don’t like attention. I like to go unnoticed… underestimated. After Brielle first spoke to me though, I took a real good look at myself. I pretty much looked homeless. I bought some new clothes, ones that actually fit, got a haircut and trimmed my beard. Spencer gave me a little bit of shit about it, but I could tell he was happy. “It’s about time you rejoined society,” he’d said. I don’t know about all that. I didn’t see it as me rejoining anything, but I guess you could say that I became human again. I began to live again, properly live. As a person, instead of a shadow. I started caring about things I hadn’t before—and more than just my appearance. Brielle has shown me that life isn’t so bad. In fact, it can be good. She makes it good. No, she makes it great. I’ve never told her any of this, never said these words out loud. I haven’t told her a lot of things. I should. I will. I scrub my hands with soap, but they will never stop being dirty. The things I’ve done can never be erased. I’ve killed. And that leaves a mark. A stain on my soul, one that curses me from inside out and keeps me awake at night.
***** “What’s wrong?” I ask when I reenter the kitchen, instantly going on alert as I take in Spencer ’s rigid posture, my phone to his ear. He must have answered it for me. Who would be calling me though? He turns to me, expression dire, and hands me the phone. “What it is?” I bark into the line. A few seconds’ silence, and then, “If you want to see your brother alive, you better come and get him.”
I grip the phone with such force I’m surprised it doesn’t crumble beneath my fingers. “We had a deal.” All those years ago, I tried to save both of my brothers from my uncle, but I failed. I wasn’t able to save Spencer, but I was able to save Sebastian. My youngest brother, Sebastian, wasn’t cut out for life as one of my uncle’s soldiers, as a killer. Everyone knew this. So when my uncle offered me a deal, I took it. He said he would send Sebastian to medical school, and that he would leave him alone, as long as Spencer and I stay by his side and do his bidding. He calls himself a bounty hunter, but really, my uncle is a hit man. Just as I became. Just as Spencer became. I couldn’t save Spencer. We both sacrificed to get Sebastian out, and with that sacrifice came losing our relationship with him. He turned his back on our world, and to be honest, I don’t blame him. He’s an ER doctor and he has a good life. Or at least that’s what I thought. “We made that deal over ten years ago, Sylar,” he says, and I can just imagine him sitting in his black leather chair, a glass of whisky in his hand. “I think it’s just about expired.” “I didn’t know your word came with an expiry date,” I grit out between clenched teeth. But I should have. The man doesn’t have a soul. How he is my mother ’s brother, I will never know. My mother was a kind and gentle woman, but Uncle Wyatt is as evil as they come. He kills with no conscience, bribes and blackmails without a thought, and isn’t afraid to use any weaknesses against you. Even with his own nephews. Especially with his nephews. Since he didn’t have any children of his own, when we became his, we became his legacy whether we wanted to or not. His pawns. His weapons. My weaknesses are my brothers… and now Brielle. Fuck. He can never find out about her. Ever. “I just need one thing from you,” he continues, my words having no effect on him. “Return to the compound now. Your brother is here waiting. You do what I need and then you leave with him intact, simple.” “Why do you need us?” I ask him, wondering why after all this time he’s trying to bring us back in. “I need your level of skill for this one, Sylar. And then that’s it. You won’t hear from me again.” He clucks his tongue, then adds, “Not even on holidays.” “Your word obviously doesn’t mean shit,” I say, sharing a look with Spencer, whose jaw is as tight as I’ve ever seen it. “How do I know you’re going to leave us alone after this?” Could I take my uncle down? Yes. But there would be ramifications. He has a lot of men in his team, and for me to destroy them all…. Possible, but ends with a very high body count.
Some men and women count the number of people they’ve fucked. I count how many I’ve killed. And I don’t want my number getting any higher than absolutely necessary, but with this phone call I know that number is going to climb higher. The question is how high? And there is nothing I can do about it. “I need you, Sylar,” he says, tone lowering. “I’ve left you alone all this time, and I wouldn’t be calling unless it was an emergency.” I grit my teeth and consider my options. “I want to talk to Sebastian.” Wyatt sighs, like my request is extremely inconvenient to him. “Sebastian is fine. Damon knocked him out to get him here, but other than that he’s fine.” “And I want evidence of that,” I say, not budging. I hear some shuffling, and then, “Sylar?” “Are you okay?” I ask, closing my eyes as I hear his voice after such a long time. “Yeah,” he says, then clears his throat. “A little banged up, but fine.” There’s a slight scuffing sound, and then my uncle says, “But he won’t be unless you’re both here by tomorrow morning. So you better pack quickly. Don’t want to be late for this family reunion.” He hangs up, and I throw the phone at the wall. It smashes. “The fucking bastard,” Spencer snarls, starting to pace. “What are we going to do, Sylar?” “We have to go and get him,” I say, my mind wandering to Brielle. “The girls are meant to be here soon. What are we going to do about them?” Brielle can’t be a part of this. This hell is my life. She deserves so much more than I can offer, and it took this phone call to make me remember that. What if next time it’s her who he takes? I can’t take that chance, and I won’t. I pack an overnight bag, and Spencer does the same. He writes the girls a note, something I didn’t even think of. I block her out. Brielle. No thinking of green eyes. If I allow myself to, I won’t want to leave. I was meant to have her in my arms tonight, but instead, I’ll be driving to save my brother who I haven’t seen in years from my uncle who trained me to be a killer. How does one explain that to a woman they care about and want to protect? I can’t just say, “Hey, welcome to the family.” Being in this family will get you goddamn killed.
Or if you’re like me, and good at the family business, it will have you doing the killing. I’m so fucked up, and the worst thing is, around her I forgot that fact. I let my guard down. But no more. If I leave now, without a word, she will hate me, and maybe it needs to be that way. It’s safer for her, and I can’t be any more indulgent than I’ve already been. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to me. I have to go and get my baby brother. His life is worth the sacrifice of my own freedom.
Chapter Two We drive throughout the night. It’s a seven-hour drive, and both of us are tense and irritated. I can’t stop thinking about Brielle, and how angry, hurt, and confused she is right now. My phone broke when I threw it, and Spencer has his on silent. He hasn’t called Christina, and I haven’t asked him why. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say, or how to explain, or maybe he’s just thinking like me and knows she will be better off without him. “Why did it have to be tonight of all fucking nights?” Spencer growls under his breath. “Do you know how mad the girls are going to be? And Christina and I had something… special planned tonight.” I saw him buying lube when we stopped at the petrol station this morning, so I can only imagine. “I don’t want to talk about them,” I say, and not for the first time. I know the damage I’ve done by leaving without a word, without reaching out to her with an explanation. And I’m going to have to live with that every day. I can’t dwell on it. I need to keep my mind on saving Sebastian and worry about the rest later. “We’ll come back, Sylar,” Spencer says, staring straight ahead. “And we can make things right with the girls.” “Then why aren’t you answering your phone?” I ask him, looking down at it as the little yellow button flashes. “Same reason you aren’t,” he replies, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “My phone broke.” “Mine is working just fine though,” he points out, the jackass. “And at least I left them a note. I said I don’t know if or when we will be back….” “You just said we’ll return,” I say, feeling a migraine coming on. “Keeping our options open,” he says. “Who knows what he wants us to do, Sylar. Who says we’re coming out of this in one piece?” “If we don’t go, Sebastian won’t come out in one piece.” I sigh, hating that this is the situation, hating that my uncle broke his word. “When we get there and see what he wants, we can work out a plan.” Hating that I let down the one woman I’m pretty sure was made for me. I can’t always get what I want though, and it’s up to me to be there for my brothers. I’ve been looking after them ever since our parents died; even though they’re all grown up they are still my responsibility. Fuck. I should have spoken to Brielle before I left. Face-to-face. I should have gone to see her. Why
didn’t I? I could have tasted those perfect lips, heard that voice. Looked into those eyes one last time. It’s too late now, and how would I have explained it anyway?
***** I take in how different my brother looks since the last time I saw him. He’s bigger, stronger looking. He must be going to the gym every day like most men these days, instead of becoming stronger by training. His hair is perfectly styled, like he just came straight off the big screen, a lighter brown than mine and Spencer ’s. His familiar blue eyes widen when he sees us, and he stands up from the couch he was sitting on. “Sebastian,” I say softly, not knowing how to approach him. Spencer steps to him and pulls him into a hug, and then Sebastian reaches his arm out to me, so I awkwardly do the same. “You look fine,” Spencer points out, giving him a once-over. Sebastian rubs the back of his head. “One shot to the head. I passed out, then woke up here.” He looks between the two of us. “It’s good to see you, brothers. I just wish it was under better circumstances.” My uncle walks proudly into the room, and I can see that although not many men could ever take him down, age is something he can’t win against. Still, power seethes from him. Brown eyes meet ours each in turn. “Breakfast is ready. The two of you must be hungry after driving here all night.” “We didn’t come here for your hospitality,” I say, keeping my temper in check. “Tell me what you want, and let us be on our way.” I look to Sebastian. “All of us. I’m sure my brother has to get back to his job.” The truth is, I haven’t taken a life in quite a while. Although I wasn’t at peace, I was working toward being a different person, learning to be calm. I don’t know what this will do to me or how it will affect me. I was trying to forget who I was. And now I’ve been dragged right back to what I was trying to escape from. By this man in front of me. “What, no family bonding moments?” Wyatt says, eyes giving away nothing. “We may have our differences, but I did take you three in and raise you. We will sit and have a meal together like a regular family would.” Spencer takes a seat and lifts his feet onto the coffee table. “We are so far from being a normal family, I don’t think there’s even a point in trying.” “Now, now,” Wyatt rasps, resting his hand on Sebastian’s back. Sebastian flinches and steps away. “I need to get back to work. Unless you want me to be reported missing and have my face plastered all over the media.”
“Right, a doctor is a man of importance, isn’t he, nephew?” Wyatt sneers, giving Sebastian a look of distaste. “Don’t forgot who gave you the money for med school.” “With the money our parents left for us,” I grit out, although we never saw a penny of it. He said he used the money to feed and clothe us, which I guess is fair enough, but he can’t really throw the med school thing in Sebastian’s face. I paid for that with my blood, and so did Spencer. We bought Sebastian a way out by joining Wyatt’s team. He can’t act like he did it out of the kindness of his heart. I don’t think he has a heart. “Semantics,” he replies, nodding toward the door. “I’ll be at the table.” He leaves, and we all watch him. “What do you think he’s up to?” I ask the two of them, eyes narrowing. “I don’t see why he needs us when he has his men.” “Maybe he doesn’t have a big team anymore,” Spencer speculates. “Most men are in this for the money, then either get killed, arrested, or skip countries. This isn’t exactly a long-term career choice.” I make a sound of agreement. “Or some of us are forced into it.” “That was just us,” Spencer says in a dry tone, getting up on his feet. “Let’s eat and get this shit over with.” Sebastian shifts on his feet then looks to me. He’s my height, our eyes level. “I’m sorry you were dragged back here, Sy.” “I’d rather me be here than you,” I say, slapping his shoulder as I walk past him. I know he’s not a kid anymore, but he’ll always be my kid brother. The smart one. The one with his head in a book no matter where we are. I’m proud of him, although I don’t know if I’ve ever said it out loud to him. Chats about our feelings were never our strong suit. I follow my brothers to the table, where there is a full spread of food. Wyatt has really gone all out this time, but all it does is make me feel even more suspicious. We eat and make small talk. I don’t exactly like it, but it’s nice to watch Sebastian, just listen to him talk and watch his facial expressions. Out of all of us, he looks most like our father. I wonder when the next time I’ll see him again after this will be. Years again? Is he happy? “When are you going to tell us what you want?” I ask Wyatt once everyone has finished eating. He studies me for a few moments, then speaks. “There’s a fugitive and I need the two of you to bring him to me.” That sounds simple. Too simple. “Why do you need us?” Spencer asks, eyes darting to me. He’s thinking the same thing. Wyatt has many men that could do this job, so why does he want us? There has to be a catch.
“No one has been able to catch him,” he continues, leaning back in his chair. “We’ve tried. And I need this money. The sum is ridiculous.” I’m assuming we won’t see any of it, but it’s worth it to get him off our backs. “Give us the information and we’ll be on it. But Sebastian goes home today.” “Sebastian goes home when you bring the man to me,” Wyatt says, lips thinning. “It’s basically a holiday for him, and he’s safe here, so I don’t see the problem.” I grit my teeth. I don’t want my brother to be here without us. Wyatt reaches into his pocket and slides me a piece of paper with a name on it. I open it and scan the name. Jack Watterson. I scrunch the paper up with my hand and look my uncle right in the eye. “Please tell me this is just a fucking coincidence.” He shakes his head. I knew there was a catch. I just didn’t think it would be anything like this. The man my uncle wants me to bring to him is my childhood best friend. “You know him. His habits, his fighting style. Everything,” he continues, shrugging like it’s nothing. I’m a loyal man, and although Jack and I aren’t in contact now, he once meant something to me. I can’t do this. But what option do I have? It’s my brother ’s life or my friends. I share a glance with Spencer, whose jaw is tense. He knows Jack, too. And he knows that we can’t do this. I look at my other brother. I need to keep him away from our uncle too. I don’t think my uncle would kill him, or anything like that, but you never know how far he will take things. Of all of us, Sebastian is disposable to him. He really doesn’t believe if he hurt Sebastian, we would kill him. He thinks he is untouchable. Sebastian needs to be back to his life—saving others’ lives, not stuck here. I nod at him, then stand and motion for my brothers to follow me. We need a plan, and stat. Or this is not going to end well.
***** Things didn’t end up how we thought they would, but the three of us made it out alive. That’s all that matters right now. The rest we can sort out later.
Chapter Three Brielle Three Months Later “Pregnancy looks good on you,” Christina says, nodding in approval. “You’ve got the whole glow thing, although now is not the time to lose weight.” “I’m not losing weight on purpose,” I say, sighing. “I can hardly keep anything down! My diet consists of milk, fruit, and crackers. Anything else makes me feel sick.” “It should pass,” she says, lifting up a book, “according to this.” “You’ve been doing some research?” I ask, finding it cute. I don’t know how I’d be getting through this pregnancy without her. “Well, I’m basically the loaf of bread’s father, aren’t I?” She wriggles her fingers at me. “When are you going to put a ring on it? I want a pear-shaped black diamond, surrounded by a halo of diamonds.” I roll my eyes. “Can you stop calling the baby a loaf of bread?” “No,” she says, smirking then shrugging. “I mean it as a term of endearment.” I run my hand over my still flat stomach. “I should probably tell my parents I’m pregnant.” “Or just wait until she’s born,” Christina says, laughing. “Merry Christmas! Oh, by the way, I had a baby. And you can’t be mad because look at her little smooshy face.” We both think it’s going to be a girl for some reason, so we’ve been calling the baby “her.” I wonder if she will look like me or… him. I hope she has those amazing blue eyes. “They’re not going to be angry,” I say, shrugging. “They’ll be happy to have a grandchild. Just disappointed that I’ll be doing it alone.” “What am I? Chopped liver?” she says, pursing her lips. “You know what I mean,” I say, wrapping my arm around her. “You’ve been the best support I could have asked for.” “I know,” she says, smiling sadly. “I still can’t believe they just left.” I try not to think about it. We never tried to contact them after that night, and they never tried to contact us. He’s the one who just left, so he should contact me, right? I know that love is meant to have no pride, but he just left me. Without a word. How am I meant to take that?
It hurts to even think about. He meant everything to me, and I obviously meant nothing to him, or at least, not enough. When I replay our time together in my head, I know he couldn’t have faked those feelings. What I felt was real, very real. You can’t fake a connection like that. I don’t think it’s onesided either, but I guess he’s just better at shutting himself off than I am. Or I guess I just loved him more. That’s what it is, probably. In every relationship there’s always one person who loves more. You’d think being loved so much would make the other person stay, and realize how lucky they are, but apparently not. I look down at my stomach. Now it’s just this loaf of bread, me, and my crazy bestie. And you know what? We’re going to be fine.
***** My feet are aching by the end of my shift. This is the first time I’ve worked from opening to close since I became pregnant, because Christina swapped shifts with me. But now her university timetable changed and she’s unable to, so I’ve been on my feet for eleven hours. I’m only four months in, and I have no idea how women work right up until they give birth. I have a new respect for all the women who have. I get tired so easily and have no energy. Still, I don’t complain out loud, because it’s not going to help anything. I’ll just have to suffer in silence. If every other woman can do this, so can I. When Charlie comes back in just before close, I ask him why he’s here. He finished his shift this morning. “You’re pregnant,” he says, glancing around the café. “I’m going to lock up and carry all the boxes inside. You’re going to sit down and watch me.” “Charlie—” “Don’t argue, Bree. Did you think we were going to leave you to do everything alone? Christina has late afternoon classes now, but I don’t. I don’t want you to overwork yourself, and you’re definitely not doing any kind of lifting. If I can’t be here, Elijah will. If he can’t, Tori will.” I sit down on one of the chairs and smile. “What did I do to deserve you guys?” “Just lucky, I guess,” he says, grinning. “Now play some music for me on your phone so I can get everything done.” He pauses, and adds, “No gangsta rap.” I laugh, and play the latest top fifty songs, watching as he carries boxes, stacks chairs, and locks everything up. Then he walks me to my car. Before I get in, I hug him tightly and thank him. He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal, but he didn’t have to help me, and I could have easily done the work. I would have been fine. I wouldn’t have complained. It’s my business, and it’s my responsibility to carry out certain tasks, no matter what I’m going through. No one has to help me, aside from the shift
that they are rostered to do. But he wanted to. Great, now I’m starting to feel all emotional. When I drive home and park my car, I see someone standing at my door. Someone I never thought I’d see again, even if he isn’t the man I can’t seem to get out of my mind. He opens my car door for me and I step out, keeping my eyes on him like he might disappear at any time. “What are you doing here, Spencer?” I ask him, glancing around, as if Sylar might be near too. But he’s not. Of course he’s not. He’d have to care to make an appearance. “How have you been, Brielle?” he asks, opening his arms for a hug. I let him hug me, but don’t return it. “Come on now,” he says softly, pulling back and watching me. “We need to talk.” “About what?” I ask hesitantly, not sure how I’m supposed to react. “Sylar,” he says, and that’s all I need to hear. I want answers. No, I need them. “Do you want to come in for a coffee?” He nods and follows me inside after I unlock my door. Sitting at my kitchen counter, he says, “You look well.” I force a smile, then blurt out, “Is Sylar back, too?” I need to send Christina a sneaky text message to tell her that Spencer is here. I wonder if he will notice. Is it rude to suddenly be on my phone? Not as rude as the way they left, I suppose. I pick up my phone and send her a quick text. He nods, slowly. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.” “Well, he isn’t here,” I say, my anger building. “So I think that says enough, don’t you?” Spencer looks down at his hands and says, “He was shot, Brielle. We just got back today, and he’s still on bed rest.” Did he just say…? Sylar was shot? This is not how I expected this conversation to go. “Wait, what?” I yell, shaking my head in confusion. “He was shot? Is he okay? Why did no one think to tell me this?” “Calm down, he’s fine,” he says, motioning with his hands. “He got shot in the leg, but he will be fine. He just needs to rest it a bit, is all.” I want to ask Spencer if Sylar asked for me, but my pride won’t let me. Did Sylar send Spencer here, or is he here of his own accord? I have no idea where Sylar ’s head is at, no idea if he wants to see me or not, but right now I don’t care. “Can I see him?” I ask in a small voice. He’s an asshole, but he’s hurt, and I want to see with my own eyes that he’s okay.
He nods. “He’s at home. Come on, I’ll take you there. He’s been asking for you.” I wrap my arms around myself and nod in return. Trying to ignore all the different emotions running at me, I follow Spencer to his car, which he parked across the road. He opens the passenger door for me, then closes it once I’m seated. I tell myself that Sylar is fine, that it’s okay for me to be worried now and angry at him later; it’s okay for me to still care about him. We have unfinished business. I won’t know what he’s thinking until I see him, and even then I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for leaving without thinking I was worth an explanation. “How’s Christina?” he asks me, breaking the silence. “Why don’t you call her and find out?” I reply, arching my brow. “The two of you have a lot of explaining to do, Spencer. Everything has changed now, and you can’t pretend it hasn’t.” And I’m pregnant. That definitely changes things. “I’m not pretending anything,” he says, parking at his house. I open the door and follow him inside. “Where is he?” “In his room,” he says, nodding to the staircase. I all but run up there and open his door without knocking. I find him asleep on his bed, arm covering his eyes, and a man sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, reading a book. He puts it down when he sees me and gives me a once-over. “Who are you?” he asks, in a soft yet deep tone. “Brielle. Who are you?” I fire back, going to stand next to the bed. “Sebastian.” “Sylar ’s brother?” I ask, eyes going wide. “How is he doing?” “He’s fine,” Sebastian says, standing. “Or at least he will be. He’s on painkillers, which made him sleepy. I’m surprised he’s told you about me.” “Your his brother, why wouldn’t he? And he let you give him painkillers?” I ask, arching my brow. “Sylar hates that shit. He hates losing control. He’d rather take the pain.” “No,” he says, lip twitching. “But he needed them.” “So you what? Snuck it into his water?” “Something like that,” he murmurs. “Nice to meet you, Brielle.” He leaves the room, and I gently climb into bed with Sylar, resting my head on his shoulder. I can’t explain how good it feels to be touching him again. His scent. Fuck. How am I meant to walk away now? I need answers, I need honesty, and I need to know why he left me. He hurt me, though, and who says he won’t just leave again. Who says he even wants me
anymore. I’ll just stay and make sure he’s okay. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I close my eyes and let the feeling of being next to him envelop me.
Chapter Four I wake up feeling really warm. Warm and safe. Opening my eyes, I remember where I am. In Sylar ’s bed. Sylar—who got shot. Blue eyes meet mine, and for a second, I’m struck speechless by their beauty. “You’re here,” he whispers, running his hand down my back. “Brielle….” “You got hurt,” I say, voice thick with sleep. “So did you,” he says, sounding sad, hands squeezing my hips. “I’m sorry I left.” “How did you get shot?” I ask him, changing the subject. I’m not ready for his apology; I’d rather hear why he did it. I need an explanation. “Wrong place, wrong time” is all he says. “Why did you come back here?” I ask, snuggling into his chest, unable to help myself. “I had something to do. I did it, got hurt, and now I’m back,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “You’re back? For how long?” I ask, tone laced with bitterness. He makes a sound of pain deep in his throat. I sit up. “Are you in pain?” He doesn’t reply, just looks me in the eye and says, “You are so beautiful.” “Did you just realize that?” I ask in a dry tone. Why is he complimenting me? I’d rather him tell me exactly what has happened since he left, and why he had to go in the first place. As always with him, he doesn’t say much, but the connection between us is so addicting that I end up wanting to be near him anyway. What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s like he’s my weakness, and I don’t like that. Is love meant to be like this? It’s more powerful than I imagine any drug being. “No,” he says, eyes gentling, “but it just struck me again.” “Probably because you haven’t seen or spoken to me in months,” I reply, pursing my lips. “And now you return… hurt.” My voice cracks. “What do you want from me, Sylar? The thought of you getting shot….” “I’m fine, Brielle,” he says, gently rocking me and making soft noises to comfort me. “Sebastian was in trouble, and I went to help him. I shouldn’t have left without talking to you. I was an asshole, and selfish, and I’m sorry.” “Why did you do it?” I ask, not holding back. “I thought it would be safer for you,” he says, voice tinged with regret and sadness. “And….” He takes a deep breath before he continues. “I don’t deserve you, Brielle. The life I’ve lived…. Look at me. I got shot. What if you’d been with me? What if it was you who had gotten hurt? I’d never have
been able to live with myself. If anything happens to you….” “You can’t protect me from everything, Sylar, especially if you’re not even here. And what do you mean it would be safer for me?” That shuts him up for a few moments. “I deserve to have a say in our relationship. You don’t get to just decide on your own. That’s not how this works,” I continue, exhaling deeply. “You’re my first real relationship, Brielle,” he says, now sounding emotionless. “So I’m not exactly good at all of this.” “You don’t need to be good,” I tell him. “You need to not leave. You need to talk to me. You need to not leave me wondering if you even care about me or not! I know that this is your first relationship, but that’s no excuse to treat me like I don’t matter!” “Of course I care about you,” he growls, lifting my face to look at him. “I love you!” “Love is not what you showed me with your actions,” I fire back. “You don’t do what you did to me to someone you love, Sylar.” “I’ve made mistakes, Brielle, but never, and I mean never tell me that I don’t love you. You can’t tell me how I feel. You don’t know how I think of you every second of every day, or how much I missed you! You don’t know how I ached to come home and take you in my arms, but I couldn’t without putting you in danger!” He stops and visibly calms himself. “I’ve made a mess of things, I know. But never question my love for you, because it’s the only real thing I know.” I sit up and look down at his leg. “There’s something I need to tell you, Sylar.” “What is it?” he asks, looking worried. “Is everything okay?” He pauses. “Did you meet someone else?” “Of course not,” I say quickly. “How can you even think that?” “I don’t know, to punish me, maybe,” he says, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “And you look like you, so I know you get attention. I messed up, Brielle, and I know it. I deserve anything you throw at me.” I open my mouth to tell him I’m pregnant, but nothing comes out. I bury my face against his chest and think. I shouldn’t be here right now. He’s fine, I saw it with my own eyes, and I should leave, but my body won’t move. Why won’t it move? He broke my heart by leaving. It’s like I’m always the one being left behind. The relationship I had with Eric pales in comparison to my relationship with Sylar, but I’m not going to lie, I felt the same abandonment, timesed by a hundred. “I went on a date,” I blurt out. It’s apparently easier to say than the whole pregnancy thing. Sylar stills underneath me. “With who?” I think he tries to keep his tone even, but it comes out sharp and hurt. I don’t want to hurt him, but
really, I did nothing wrong. When someone leaves without so much as a courtesy goodbye, you assume that you are single. I didn’t want to be single. I wanted to be with him, but it’s not like I had that choice. “Paul,” I say, cringing. “I know, he’s awful, and the date was awful, but I did it anyway.” I don’t think he even knows who Paul is, and I’m glad, since he’s pretty much the town douche, and shows that I wasn’t exactly in the best head space at the time. “Did you kiss him?” he asks, hands tightening on my waist. “No,” I say, shaking my head. Although he tried. Hard. “How about you?” “How about me what?” He sounds confused. “Were you with anyone?” I ask, holding my breath as I wait for his reply. “Brielle,” he says softly. “How could I be with anyone when you’re all I think about? You consume me. I don’t want anyone else in this world.” “Your silence in the last few months says otherwise,” I mutter under my breath. “Words can’t fix this; only actions can.” So he can tell me he loves me until he’s blue in the face, but it doesn’t change what he did. It also doesn’t change the fact that I think I’m weak to even consider getting back with him. Is he even staying? Maybe he just came here to recover from his bullet wound, and then he will leave again. I absently touch my stomach and wonder what’s in store for our child. Is Sylar going to make her fall in love with him and then leave, too? That’s not a really fair thought, though. Is love meant to be this hard? I know that nothing worth it comes easy, but I don’t know if it’s meant to be this complicated. I’m pregnant, and I don’t even feel comfortable enough to tell him that, because he went missing without so much as a text, and now he’s home. And has been shot. He needs to earn my trust again, there’s no way this will work out otherwise. “How did you get shot?” I ask again. He never gave me a proper response last time. He can evade all he wants, but I’m going to keep asking. The time for me to blindly trust him is over. He no longer gets the benefit of the doubt. I need answers, and I need them now. “Brielle—” “No more bullshit, Sylar. You need to give me answers, or I’m walking out of here. You hurt me, and you owe me the truth.” “My uncle is a bounty hunter,” he starts, then pauses before continuing. “He needed some help to bring in a fugitive. We went to help. We kept losing him though, and when we finally caught up, one of his friends shot me as they were trying to escape.” Bounty hunting? Seriously? “So you didn’t catch him?” I ask, trying to picture him chasing down a criminal.
Jesus. Is this the shit he does in his spare time? “Nope, he got away,” he says, surprisingly not sounding too put out over the fact. “But we did manage to capture another man. Someone with an even bigger price on him. So my uncle considered that a job done, and as soon as I was able to move, we came back here.” “You could have died.” “But I didn’t.” I close my eyes and puff out a breath. “Is this going to be a regular thing? Are you going to just up and leave again to go on some wild goose chase to catch criminals just to get your kicks? I know you don’t need the money so you can’t be doing it for that.” “I just went to help my family, Brielle,” he says quickly, kissing my temple. “I didn’t go to get my kicks. I went because they needed me. If I’d had a choice, I wouldn’t have gone, but I didn’t.” Why does he have to be such a badass? “I don’t know, Sylar.” “I’m just happy you’re here right now,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “This is all I wanted while I was gone. I didn’t know it was possible to miss someone so much.” I didn’t know it was possible either.
Chapter Five “I can’t believe they’re back,” Christina says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Charlie was not happy when Spencer showed up at my place last night with nothing but bullshit excuses. I mean, where’s my bouquet of ‘I’m sorry I was a C-word’ red roses?” I smirk at that. “Would you forgive him if he brought roses?” “No,” she replies instantly, lifting her chin. “But it’s better than no flowers.” “Did you sleep with him though?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. She cringes and mutters, “It’s been months, Bree. Months. My resolve wasn’t that strong. My vagina needed a little attention and he was able to provide it.” When I start laughing, she asks me, “Did you tell him about bread loaf?” I sober quickly. “No. I will. I need to. Apparently, the three words are harder to get out than ‘I love you.’” “Just send him a text message and hide,” is my best friend’s awful advice. “Where’s your phone? I’ll send it.” “No, thanks,” I politely decline. “I don’t think this is a text-message moment.” I need to be around him a little more, trust him and feel that connection between us before I tell him. “Suit yourself,” she says, shrugging. “Are you going to see Sylar today?” “Yeah, after work,” I say. “You coming?” She nods. “We should take them all some dinner. I’ll pick something up. I’m excited to see the third brother.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Especially after you said he’s hot.” She pauses. “And a doctor.” I roll my eyes at her. “Slightly inappropriate.” “You were thinking it,” she says, expression falling. “Bree?” “Yeah?” “Are you going to forgive him?” she asks, studying my expression. As I think about her question, for the first time I’m honest with myself. “I don’t want to,” I admit, jaw going tight. “But I’m scared I already have.” “What is it about them?” she growls, making herself a coffee. “I have rules with dating. Why do I let him break every damn one?” “I wish I could answer you,” I say, expelling a deep sigh. “But I have nothing. I don’t want to be a woman who just forgives a man for everything because she loves him, but at the same time, I don’t want to let my pride ruin a good thing, you know? I don’t know what’s going to happen. I know
they’re hiding shit.” Although Sylar gave me some answers last night, there’s clearly more to it. Why did Sebastian need help in the first place? He’s a doctor. What trouble could he have gotten into? “Do you feel like we have the power here, or them?” she asks, a quizzical expression on her face. “I’m scared of the answer.” “I don’t know. Does it matter?” “Yes,” she says adamantly. “It does.” She looks down at my stomach. “Now that baby daddy is back does that mean I get demoted to aunt and godmother?” “That’s not a demotion,” I say, laughing at her. “You get to give her back.” “That is a pro,” she says, nodding in a serious manner. “Okay, I better clean this place up before I leave. Charlie will be in to help you close up.” And then I get to go and see Sylar to tell him he’s going to be a father. Shit.
***** Sebastian opens the door and lets me in. “How is he doing?” I ask, flashing him a smile. “He’s doing well, you have nothing to worry about,” he assures me. “How are you doing?” I ask, wanting to have a conversation with the elusive brother. He looks surprised by my question. “Me? I’m fine, thank you. I just came to check on Sylar, but I’ll be leaving one of these days. He doesn’t really need me here. It’s more a precaution than anything.” “You should stay,” I say, shrugging. “You must miss your brothers.” He ducks his head to hide his expression. “Yeah, but it’s not always that easy.” “It never is,” I mutter, pausing to study him. Does he feel out of place here? “You know if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m a pretty good listener.” “Right back at you,” he says, making me smile as I head upstairs. I find Sylar sitting up in bed, watching a movie. “Hey,” I say, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on his cheek. He puts his arms around me and pulls me onto him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I say as he places me on his lap. “You aren’t,” he murmurs, searching my face. “How was your day? You look a little tired.” “I am tired.” I snuggle against his chest. “Work was fine. Same old.” “You need a day or two off,” he suggests, using his hands to gently massage my shoulders. “Don’t overwork yourself, Brielle. If money is an issue—” “Stop right there.” I cut him off. “Don’t even think about offering me money. I’m an independent
woman.” When his body starts shaking, I realize he’s silently laughing at me. “What’s so funny, Sylar?” “Nothing,” he says, controlling himself. “You can still be an independent woman and let someone else help and care for you. Especially when that person has enough money in the bank to retire both of us.” “That’s not the point,” I say, yawning. “I’m fine, Sylar. You’re the one who was shot.” He makes a sound of frustration. “I’m fine.” “So am I.” “Are you hungry?” he asks, cupping my face with my hands. We haven’t kissed properly since he’s returned, mainly because neither of us knows what is going on with each other. Are we back together? Is he leaving again? I don’t know. I don’t think he knows. But I wouldn’t push him away. No, I want to taste him. I’ve missed kissing him. “Yes,” I say, looking up at him through my lashes. “But not for food.” I don’t know if this pregnancy is making me horny, or it’s because I haven’t seen him in so long, but all I want to do is have him inside of me. “Brielle—” I lean forward, my lips almost touching his but not quite. “Whatever it is, I don’t care.” When he kisses me, his lips are familiar and safe, yet exciting at the same time. He sucks on my top lip, then the bottom, before deepening the kiss, his hands tangling in my hair and giving it a gentle tug. I moan into his mouth, his tongue now dancing with mine. After a few moments, I rest my hands on his chest and break the kiss, leaving us both looking into each other ’s eyes. “I love you, Brielle,” he says, lowering his gaze back to my lips. “No matter what happens, you’re mine. You know that, right?” I lick my lips. Now is as good time as any, right? “Sylar—” A knock at the door cuts off my announcement. “Bree! Stop sucking Sylar ’s dick and come down for dinner!” my best friend yells, loud enough for the entire house to hear, then snickers afterwards. “Oh my God,” I sigh, while Sylar says, “She’s your friend.” “And your brother ’s girlfriend,” I point out. “Only because you brought her into our lives,” he reminds me. “Because she lost her cat and thought it might be here.” His tone says he doesn’t believe the cat story. He then asks dubiously, “Is the kitten still alive?” I nod. “They have a love-hate relationship.” “I’ll bet,” he says, moving off the bed with me still in his arms. When he stands with me, I immediately tell him off.
“Are you crazy? You don’t need any added weight on your leg, Sylar!” “You weigh nothing,” he says, but puts me down and takes my hand in his. “Let’s go and eat before your friend gets mad.” “We can’t be having that, can we?” I say, my tone laced with amusement. “Can you get down the stairs?” “I’ve been walking around all day, Brielle,” he says, sounding both exasperated and amused. “I’ve rested enough. Ask the doctor himself.” “Hmm,” I say, mentally making a note to ask Sebastian. We walk downstairs, probably slower than he wants to, but he lets me set the pace. When we enter the kitchen, Christina is sitting in between the two brothers, laughing loudly. She turns to look when we enter and nods to the table. “Grab a plate and join us.” We do as she says, sitting opposite the three. “How’s the leg, Sylar?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “I heard you tried to be a hero and stopped a petrol station burglary.” I cringe, then look down at my Chinese food to hide it. Spencer obviously lied to Christina, and he and Sylar really need to get their stories straight. Why did he lie when Sylar told me some of the truth? Sylar clears his throat and says, “You know me, always in trouble.” Spencer narrows his eyes on Sylar, obviously wanting him to become a better actor so Christina believes his story, while Sebastian chuckles under his breath. I look from brother to brother; the three of them really are magnificent. All handsome in their own way, all bringing something different to the table. They’re their own army. “So,” I say to the youngest brother. “Is Sylar meant to be walking around, or does he need to rest longer?” Sebastian flashes Sylar an amused glance before returning his attention to me. “I’d prefer it if he stayed in bed for a few more days, but knowing him, he won’t. And he will be fine anyway.” “He’s not indestructible,” I grumble under my breath, then take a bite of fried rice and chicken. I can feel someone watching me, so I lift my head to see Christina’s brown eyes questioning me. She wants to know if I told him about the baby. I shake my head. She flashes me a disapproving look. I silently tell her to relax, that I will handle it. “Do they think we’re not here, witnessing this silent conversation?” Sebastian asks his brothers. He runs a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair and adds, “Can someone translate for me?” “It’s nothing,” I say, narrowing my gaze on her, telling her to shut up. I don’t need to tell Sylar in front of his brothers at fucking dinner. I’ll tell him when we go back upstairs. Either way, I won’t be leaving here without telling him the news.
Or I’ll never do it.
Chapter Six “Do you get heaps of women hitting on you?” Christina asks Sebastian as we eat our dessert. Before he can reply, she asks another question. “Do you fuck nurses? My mum always told me to stay away from doctors because they fuck all the nurses.” Sebastian shifts in his seat, looking a little uncomfortable at her extremely blunt questions, while the rest of us look on, feeling nothing but amusement. “I have slept with nurses before,” he admits, going a little red. “But I’m single. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t.” “How do you know that though?” she probes, threading her fingers together in front of her. “Have you been in a long-term relationship?” She looks to me. “Maybe we can set him up with someone?” Sebastian looks to Spencer to save him. Spencer laughs instead. Feeling sorry for him, I say, “Maybe he’s a non-cheating doctor, Christina. You can’t stereotype everyone.” “Maybe,” she muses. Sylar stands and offers me his hand. I take it. Christina catcalls, which we ignore, but still brings a grin to my face. She’s so ridiculous sometimes. Back in his room, he locks the door behind us while I lie back on the bed, bracing myself for the conversation ahead. Does he even like kids? Oh fuck, what if he doesn’t? A bit late now, he’s just going to have to learn how to like them. Love them, rather. Before I tell him though, I ask him, “Why did Spencer tell her a different story?” He winces, and mutters, “I don’t know, it’s not like we usually tell the truth about our lives. I guess he’s chosen to keep her in the dark.” “That’s putting me in an awkward position,” I say, scowling. “I tell her everything.” “Everything?” he asks, brows going up. “Mostly,” I say, shrugging. “I mean she doesn’t know about those freckles on your back I like to trace with my tongue, but she does know that I think you’re amazing in bed.” He exhales, and shakes his head. “Do you tell her everything we do in bed?” Yes, yes I do, and to get out of this, I decide now is the perfect moment to tell him about the baby. “I’m pregnant,” I blurt out with no preamble, making him freeze in his tracks. “What?” he says, blinking slowly like he’s in a daze.
“I’m pregnant,” I say, puffing out a breath. “With your baby,” I add. He sits down on the bed, like his feet suddenly can’t keep him up, and stares at the wall. “But you’re on the pill.” “I know,” I whisper. “I must have missed one, or I don’t know. Maybe when I got sick. I was as surprised as you are, Sylar.” He comes over to me, lifts up my T-shirt, and lays his hands on my stomach. “I’m going to be a father?” “Yeah,” I whisper. “Do you like kids?” “I’ve never really been around them before,” he admits, staring at my stomach like he can see the baby inside. “I don’t know if I’ll be a good dad, Brielle. What if I’m not?” He places a soft, lingering kiss on my stomach before he continues, and in this moment I know that no matter what, he will be a good dad. He just found out about the baby, and he's already gentle and caring. I watch as he rests his ear against my stomach. “I hope he or she looks like you,” he says, giving me another kiss. “Exactly like you.” He sits up and studies me, sadness in those beautiful eyes. “You were pregnant, and I left you to deal with everything alone. How can you stand to even look at me, Brielle?” “I was angry,” I admit. “And hurt. I still am, to be honest. I don’t like the way you handled the situation at all, and I know you’re not a bad person, Sylar, but when you left, I felt like shit. If you had to go away, that’s fine, but you at least tell me. You just abandoned me. If you hadn’t come back here, I don’t know if I would have told you about the baby, and that’s me being honest.” His face etched with pain, he swallows hard, his throat working. “I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t make up for anything.” He lies down and pulls me into his arms, then whispers, “I thought you’d be safer. Better off. I don’t deserve you, Brielle, and now you’re giving me something else I never thought I’d have in my life. I don’t deserve any of this.” “Yes, you do,” I say, wondering why he thinks this. “You do. Don’t think that way. Before you left, you made me happier than I’ve ever been, Sylar.” I move to straddle him, then kiss his lips. “Are you going to be leaving again?” “Not without you, no,” he replies quickly. “Good answer,” I say, then slam my lips down on his. His hands run down my back then land on my ass, squeezing the globes gently, then more firmly. I kiss him until I’m out of breath, then move to kiss him down his neck. I pull back and say, “Remove it,” about his T-shirt, so he sits up and does as I say, throwing the soft white cotton on the floor then lying back down, blue eyes filled with heat. I remove my top and then my bra, giving him something to look at, before returning my lips to his smooth skin, kissing down his chest, then down his ripped abs. How I’ve missed these. Continuing on my mission to his cock, I stop as my lips touch the material of his jeans, then try
to remove them. I move off him, to the side. Searching for a zip, I realize they don’t have one; they have three buttons instead. I clumsily try to undo the first one but fail, making Sylar laugh and groan simultaneously. “Why don’t you have a zipper like normal jeans do?” I groan, still trying to undo button number one with my chubby fingers. These buttons are standing in the way of me and what I want—my man’s cock—and I’m not happy about it. He waits patiently until he can’t take it anymore, and then he undoes them for me. I sigh in relief, help him pull them down, realize he’s going commando, then take his cock into my mouth with them still around his legs. I’m careful not to put my weight on his lower body or touch his leg in case I hurt him. He moans my name and tangles his hands in my hair, encouraging me as I take him as deep as I can. He makes the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard, a deep moan, as I lick the head, then deep throat him. “Take your pants off, Brielle,” he demands, voice husky. “I want to play with you. I’ve missed that pretty pussy so damn much.” I do as I’m told, then lean in front of him again, fully bare this time. I take him back into my mouth while his fingers start to stroke me, sliding inside of me then playing with my clit. “Fuck,” I whisper, then lick down and back up his cock. His fingers feel so amazing, and I know it’s only going to get better from here. I can’t wait to have him inside me again. It’s been so long, and I’ve missed him in every way possible. Unable to take it anymore, I straddle him and take his cock in my hand, positioning it then sliding down onto it slowly. I look him in the eye, and he does the same. He then looks down to where the two of us are now joined, then back up at me. When he’s fully inside me, I lift my hips up and down, his hands urging me on. He starts to take control, thrusting upwards, while I lean my body forward, my lips on his, my breasts pressed into his chest. Normally I’d want him to take over right about now, but with his leg, I want to do all the work. To mix things up a little, I get off him, turn around, and ride him reverse cowgirl. I’ve never tried this position before, but I read it in a romance novel recently and wanted to see if I liked it. Sylar squeezes my ass and slaps it once. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and grind down on him, my wetness making it easy. Wanting to see him, I climb off again, but this time take him back into my mouth for a minute or so before returning to riding him, facing him. I flash him a cheeky grin, which makes his lip twitch. “I’m going to come,” I warn him, bracing myself for the explosion of pleasure. “Fuck.” I don’t break eye contact as the orgasm takes over me, intense and powerful. I cry out in pleasure, taking deep breaths as wave after wave hits me. Just as it’s over, Sylar rolls me over, him still inside of me, and starts thrusting. “I’m meant to be doing all the work,” I pant. “You did well,” he smirks. “But now it’s my turn, babe. My leg isn’t hurting. All I can feel is you, and you feel perfect.”
My reply is cut off by his mouth, and soon after, he finishes inside me and rests his forehead against mine. He doesn’t put his weight on me. “I don’t want to squash the baby,” he murmurs, kissing me and then kneeling beside me. He kisses below my belly button, then pulls me onto his chest. “You won’t. You can come to the next appointment and ask the Doctor anything you want to know.” “I’d love that. I love you,” he says, kissing my forehead. “I love you, too, Sylar.”
One Month Later Sylar With Brielle asleep on the couch, I start cooking dinner, wanting her to have something to eat when she wakes. She works a lot, and although I’ve tried to get her to stop, she won’t. So I’ve started going to her work every day, helping her and making sure she doesn’t try and do too much. I’ve told her she has another employee, but this ones free, so she should be happy. I don’t think she is, but that’s okay too. I’ll do what I need to do to look after her and our baby. I can’t help but think that I was shot for a reason. If I wasn’t, I might not have come back. I don’t know, and that scares me. It would have been the second-biggest mistake of my life, after leaving in the first place. I don’t know how I could have done something so stupid. If Brielle hadn’t forgiven me… I’m a lucky man. I know I don’t deserve it, I do, but she wants me and I want to make her happy. Her and the little one. I don’t know anything about being a father, but I do know that no other child will ever be loved and protected more than ours will. No other woman will be, either. Spencer comes into the kitchen, a big smile on his face. “Where’s Sebastian?” I ask. He never left. He’s been saying he’s going to leave “any day now” but he’s still here. The local hospital is looking for new doctors, and he’s said he’s going to consider taking the position. We are all thrilled. “He’s walking Snoop,” Spencer replies, referring to Brielle’s chubby little pug, and hands me a bag. “I bought the baby some stuff.” I’ve never seen any man happier to be an uncle than Spencer. I can tell he’s happy for me. And with Sebastian back home, our family is all but complete. Our unit, or our army, as Brielle calls it. “Thank you,” I tell him, smiling. “Starting the presents pretty early, brother.” “My first niece or nephew,” he says, shrugging. “This kid is never going to want for anything.” I clap him on the back. “I know.” I look into the bag and pull out a tiny pair of white unisex
sneakers. “Brielle is going to love these.” “I know,” he says, taking out the other item. It’s a small black box. I open it, chuckling when I see the thick gold chain. Brielle walks into the kitchen sleepily, peeping over the chain. “What’s that?” “The first of many gifts,” Spencer says, studying my woman. “I also shotgun buying the first car.” Brielle picks up the chain in her delicate fingers. “The baby is going to have to do weights just to carry this! It’s a baby, not a pimp, Spencer.” I can’t help but laugh at that. Laugh. I never laughed much before Brielle. I found things amusing, enjoyed being around Spencer. But I didn’t laugh much. And now…. A knock at the door pulls us from our discussion. Spencer gets there first. Assuming it’s Christina, or that Sebastian forgot his key, I give Brielle a hug. “Are you hungry?” She nods. “Starving.” “Sylar!” Spencer calls out. I lift my head and look toward the hall. “Yeah?” “Come here,” he says, and something in his tone has me rushing to him. I come to a standstill when I see none other than Jack standing there. The man I was meant to hand over to my uncle but couldn’t. He may be a criminal, but he’s a friend, and I know he’d never do anything to harm me or mine. “What are you doing here?” I ask him, brow furrowing. “Aren’t you meant to be in hiding?” “I wouldn’t come unless it’s an emergency,” he says, looking from side to side. “Something happened.” “Something bad?” Spencer asks, eyes going wide. “What the fuck has happened now?” “Your uncle came after me,” he says, cringing. Shit. I should have known he wouldn’t leave it alone. I handed to him another man, one with a higher price on him, and I thought that would keep him satisfied to stay away from Jack, but apparently it just satisfied our deal instead. “And?” I prompt. “And I accidentally killed him,” Jack says, shifting on his feet. “And he’s in the car. And I need help to bury him.” “Jesus, fuck!” Spencer says, eyes darting to me. “What happened exactly, Jack? And why the fuck did you bring him here in the first place?”
I have to wonder the same thing. I don’t really feel anything at the news of my uncle passing. A tinge of sadness and regret, but the world is a better place without him. There’s no point trying to deny that. And now Brielle and the baby are safer. He can never come and drag us into his shit again, or threaten my family. “You killed their uncle?” I hear asked in a horrified tone. Shit. I turn to see Brielle standing behind me, eyes wide as saucers as she tries to comprehend the situation. I never wanted her to know about what we have done, and now she knows there’s a killer in the house. What she doesn’t know is that she goes to bed every night with one too. She looks at me, shaking her head in confusion. Her hands cover her stomach, and I wonder if it’s because she wants to protect the baby from us. From me. The thought is like a knife to my chest. “What the hell is going on, Sylar?” Yeah, I have nothing.
Chapter Seven Brielle “You killed their uncle?” I ask, hoping that I heard wrong. Killed? Why is he throwing around a word such as that so casually, no emotion on his face? Who is this man, and how does Sylar know him? Why is Spencer asking why he brought their dead uncle here when surely there are other questions he should be asking? Better yet, he should be saving his words for when he calls the police to report this. Why isn’t he reporting this? Maybe they’re all in shock, and I should call the cops. Why is no one reacting? I lift my hand and find it shaking. Maybe I’m the one in shock. I look at Sylar; his eyes are already locked on me, concern flashing in the blue depths. Concern for me? Where is the concern for his uncle? I shake my head in confusion, wondering why he’s simply watching me instead of reacting. I absently cover my stomach with my hand. “What the hell is going on, Sylar?” I ask, looking back at the stranger standing in their home. “It’s okay, Brielle,” he says in that calm voice of his. The one I usually love hearing, but this time it just pisses me off. He shouldn’t be calm. He shouldn’t be able to control his emotions. Why don’t I see anything playing on his face? Is he that emotionless, or does he have his facial expressions under control that well? Either way, I am not okay with it. “How is it okay?” I ask, shaking my head and turning my attention to the stranger. “And who are you?” “This is Jack,” Sylar says, stepping to me and cupping my face in his hands, turning my head away from Jack and to him. “He’s a childhood friend of mine.” His childhood friend killed his uncle? Just what have I gotten myself into here? And why are they all staring at me like I’m the crazy one? I need Christina, stat. I need her to react how everyone else in this room should be reacting to this news. “Take her upstairs, Sylar. I’ll handle this,” Spencer says, leading Jack outside. “How exactly is he going to handle this?” I ask, brow furrowing. “Why aren’t you upset, Sylar? You need to call the police.”
“No,” he says instantly, disregarding my advice. “There're some things I need to explain to you, Brielle, but I want you to try and relax a little bit. I read that the baby feels everything you do, and I don’t want him or her to feel you panicking.” I open my mouth and close it, tightening my lips. I don’t know how he expects me to calm myself in a situation like this, but I take a few deep breaths anyway, my eyes fluttering shut. When they open, I look into his eyes and lift my chin. “Tell me.” He rubs the back of his neck, glances up at me, then says, “Come on, let’s sit down.” He leads me to the couch with a hand on the small of my back, and I sit. He joins me, shifting on his seat. He looks a little… worried? “My uncle is… was,” he corrects, “not a good man.” I blink slowly a few times. “So that makes it okay that he’s dead?” “No,” he says, licking his lips. “My uncle was a bounty hunter, Brielle. He’s the one who trained me, raised us when my parents died and….” He trails off, then looks down at his hands. “The reason I had to leave you and go and get Sebastian is because my uncle was threatening to harm him if I didn’t. It’s complicated, and I know you won’t understand, but I don’t think anyone will really be upset over his death.” I see something flash on his face. Pain, but then relief. What did his uncle do to him growing up, I wonder, if he raised them, but wasn’t a good man, one not good enough to even deserve their grief when he was killed? “You don’t care that your friend killed him?” I ask, wondering where this Jack fits into this all. “My uncle was going after Jack. It was only a matter of time before one of them took the other out,” he says casually, as if we were discussing the weather. I wrap my arms around myself. He’s right. I don’t understand. I don’t want him or Spencer going to jail over something they didn’t do. Are they really going to help this guy get rid of a body? At the end of the day, it’s still their blood; they can’t just dump him somewhere. I tell him as much. “I will handle that, Brielle,” he says, looking down at his hands. “I wish you hadn’t walked out and heard all of this.” “It’s not exactly how I thought my day would go,” I admit, cringing. I’ve been so naïve when it comes to Sylar, mainly because I just wanted him so badly. I see what I want to see, and forget the rest, but this time I can’t. This changes everything. I don’t want my baby to be raised in a home where random people drop by with bodies. Fucking hell, I can’t believe I have to even think such a thing. “What’s running through your head, Brielle?” he asks softly, reaching to take my hand in his. He looks worried, and rightly so, and seems as if he’s bracing for my reaction. “Do you want me to take you home? Or to Christina’s? I’ll tell Jack he can’t stay here and has to leave, so then you can—”
“What? Pretend that none of this happened?” I ask, scowling. I have a question that I want to ask him, but I’m too scared to. I’ve always known Sylar has some dark in him, but he only ever showed me light. I’ve never been scared of him, and I didn’t think that he’d hurt me. But the way he’s acting, so calm and collected, it has me wondering… is death a common thing in his life? Has he… killed? I don’t want to ask, because I don’t want to know the answer. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if it’s not the one I want to hear from him. If someone has done bad things in their lives, but are good to you, does that still make them a bad person? Or is that me just seeing what I want to see? “What do you need me to do?” he asks, sounding lost. I don’t have an answer for him. I don’t know what to think because I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that there’s a dead body, a relation of the man I’m about to have a baby with, out the front of his house, and I’m meant to pretend I don’t know. That it’s okay. That it’s just a small problem my man is going to fix. “Go and do what you need to do,” I tell him, grabbing my phone. “I’m going to tell Christina to come and keep me company.” I send her a text saying it’s an emergency. If a dead body isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is. Sylar hesitates, then asks, “Will you be here when I return?” Does he think I’m going to run away? “I’m not going to leave without a word, Sylar. I’m not you,” I say, feeling like shit when his face drops even further. “Promise?” “Yes, I promise,” I tell him. He nods and stands, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he disappears out the front door. I look down at my stomach and mutter, “What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?”
***** “Wait, so this dead body thing isn’t a prank?” Christina asks, eyes going wide. “No,” I say for the third time. “It’s not a prank. Why would I tell you to come here and lie about a dead body?” “To try and be funny? I don’t know. You say all kinds of shit!” she cries, then takes a deep breath. She then looks at me with a serious expression and says, “You know all of those memes about how true friends help other friends bury bodies and shit?” I nod.
“Well, I’m one of the people who share those memes. So I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t actually do so.” She picks up her phone and hits Spencer ’s name. “What are you doing?” I ask her, trying to grab the phone from her. “Are you going to tell him to… what? Come and pick you up so you can be an accomplice and help him bury his own uncle’s body that their friend killed? Because you want to be loyal to a meme?” “I want to be loyal to my man,” she says, looking me right in the eye. “I’d do it for you, Bree.” My shoulders slump as it hits me that I’d do it for her, too. I mean, I’d probably kill her myself, but I’d help her. And why shouldn’t I do the same for the man I love? I don’t think it’s as easy as that, and I don’t think Christina can get a life lesson from a stupid meme, but maybe I could try and be a ride or die chick. By that I don’t mean help bury any bodies, but maybe try and understand Sylar, and not judge him because of this situation. He’s helping his friend, just like I would help Christina. He’s being a loyal friend. It’s not like he killed anyone. He’s been dragged into this situation by whoever this Jack character is. “He’s not answering,” she says, sounding put out. “I wonder why,” I mutter sarcastically, rolling my eyes. He’s probably digging a six-foot hole somewhere, evading the cops. “I guess we’ll just have to sit this one out,” she murmurs, sounding unhappy about it. Realizing how truly crazy my best friend is, I sigh and say, “Do you remember the time I asked you to check on Snoop when he was a puppy, and instead of going to his crate to see if he was okay, you starting searching online to check if the rapper Snoop was okay instead?” Christina makes a sound of amusement. “Hey, in my defence that was after a few drinks, and musicians need to be checked on too, okay.” I laugh at her ridiculousness. “So you did an online search? You’re something else, Christina.” “You love me,” she says, smiling. I take a deep breath and thread my fingers over my stomach. “Those were much simpler times.” “But would you go back to them?” she asks, looking me in the eye. Would I go back to a life without Sylar, without the child inside of me? Definitely not. I shake my head. “Exactly,” she says, picking up her phone. “So how about I do another online search, this time about how to bury a body without getting caught, while you make me some coffee?” I grin and stand, heading to the kitchen to do as the crazy woman asks. My crazy woman.
Chapter Eight Hours later, Sylar and Spencer return. When Spencer sees Christina sitting next to me, he looks relieved to see her, but then flashes me a look, probably because he knows he now has some explaining to do. But that’s not exactly my fault. Sylar too looks relieved to see me still here. “I’m going to have a shower,” he says, looking like he wants to touch me, but refraining. His hand reaches out, but then he lets it lower, and he disappears upstairs to his bathroom. When Christina straight out asks Spencer, “How did the body burying go?” I stand up and follow Sylar, not wanting to be here for that conversation. I sit on the bed and hear the shower turn on. Is he going to tell me everything that happened tonight? Do I want to know? What if the police come after him? I tap my foot anxiously. Just how is this situation going to play out? And what does he want from me? No, more importantly, what does Sylar need from me right now? When he takes a long time in the shower, I push the door open and stick my head in. He’s standing with his palms flat against the tiles, head lowered, water running down his face. “Sylar?” I say, stepping into the bathroom and opening the glass shower door. “Are you okay?” He lifts his head, as if a trance has been broken, then looks towards me. He looks miserable, his eyes filled with pain and remorse. He might say he doesn’t care about what happened tonight, but it clearly has an effect on him—he wouldn’t be human if it didn’t. “It’s okay,” I say to him, grabbing the fluffy white towel and holding it open for him, like you would for a small child. He turns off the water and steps onto the white mat. I wrap the towel around him, with his help, and then lift up on my tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his wet lips. He’s vulnerable, and I’ve never seen him like this before. “What can I do?” I ask, wanting to fix this, to make the situation better. I don’t like seeing him like this. “You’re still here,” he says, wiping his face and hair but keeping his eyes locked on mine. “I promised I’d stay,” I answer, crossing my arms over my chest. Did he think I’d leave? Run away from the situation, from him? Don’t get me wrong, I might have left the house tonight, but I wouldn’t have left him. I might not know all of Sylar, but the pieces I do know are good. He’s only ever shown me that side, and that’s what I’m going to go by. “Is that the only reason?” he asks, sadness passing through his beautiful blue eyes. “It’s not every day a woman has to deal with a situation like that one, Sylar,” I say, licking my lips. Understatement of the fucking year. “I need to know what happened tonight.” He shakes his head. “You don’t need to know details, but everything has been dealt with.”
“Sylar—” “No, Brielle,” he says, his voice strong, and I know he won’t change his mind. “You don’t need to hear about it. I don’t want you to, so please don’t ask me again.” “Where’s Jack?” I ask, changing the subject. While I’m not done pressing him on the subject, I will let it go for now. I don’t want to upset him any more than he clearly is. “He’s staying at a hotel.” Finishing with the towel, he hangs it back up. Naked, he walks into the bedroom, and I follow, sitting on the bed and watching as he puts on a pair of grey sweat pants. He doesn’t bother with a T-shirt. “He won’t be dropping by unexpectedly again.” “So he’s a friend of yours?” I ask, curious about their relationship. “He was,” he says, nodding once, slowly. “I haven’t seen him in years, to be honest. But yes, I guess you could say that growing up he was a close friend of mine. We’ve been through a lot together.” “Did you grow apart?” “Jack got locked up for a few years,” he says, sitting down next to me. “And we kind of lost contact after that. He was in and out of prison, and started dealing drugs.” He clears his throat and adds, “Not that what I was doing was much better.” Jack has been to prison? How unsurprising. I reach up and start to comb the tangles out of his hair with my fingers. He closes his eyes, enjoying my touch, and I let him have a moment of peace before I continue asking him questions. “What happens now?” “Hopefully, nothing,” he says, opening his eyes. “I don’t think anyone will find the body. We don’t have any other family, so there’s no one really to tell. My uncle’s team of men will probably just leave when he doesn’t return and isn’t there to pay them.” This whole thing is so bizarre. Sylar puts his hand on my stomach and whispers, “Sorry for upsetting you today, baby.” “Are you talking to me or the baby?” He raises his eyes to me and grins wolfishly. “The baby.” I climb into bed and get under the covers, and he does the same, bringing my body flush against his. “I’m sorry for everything that happened tonight,” he says against my temple. “My past keeps trying to find me and drag me back down, no matter how hard I try and fight it.” “Are you ever going to tell me everything about your past?” I ask in a soft tone. “Do you think it defines me?” he asks, stilling. “No.” I drag out the word. “I don’t think it defines who you are today. I think it would have shaped you a certain way though, don’t you? Even if it just taught you the person that you know you don’t want to be.”
“So wise for someone so young,” he murmurs, kissing the apple of my cheek. “Brielle?” “Yes,” I whisper, my eyes closing of their own accord, weariness taking over me. “It means everything that you stayed.” “I’ll always stay, Sylar,” I reply, before falling asleep. The thing about words is, when you say them you might mean them, you might mean them with everything you have inside of you, but circumstances change. Words change. Actions change. And as it happens, I wouldn’t always stay.
***** I wake up to Sylar kissing down my stomach, and I know it’s going to be a good morning. Biting my hip, he pulls my panties down and then replaces them with his mouth, gently licking. Moaning softly, I look down at him as his head dips with each lick, the pleasure as his tongue flicks allconsuming. “Sylar,” I whisper, smiling and closing my eyes as he sucks on my clit. My back arches off the bed and my hands grip the sheets, nails digging into them. Christina once told me that men are generally good with their hands and mouth or their cock; I’m lucky that my man is talented with all of the above. He lifts his head and flashes his teeth at me before sliding his pants down, his hard cock jutting out in front of him. I lick my lips, all other thoughts leaving my mind except Sylar and how badly I want him. He grins as he climbs up the bed and pins my arms above my head with one hand. “Good morning,” he whispers before his mouth slams down on mine and he slides into me. Good fucking morning indeed. I moan against his lips, kissing him back hungrily as he thrusts inside me, slow and deep, a delicious grind that has me so wet I can actually feel it on my thighs. When he pulls out of me, and rolls to the side and pulls my back against his chest, spooning me whilst he’s still inside of me, I thrust back against him gently. His hands reach over to play with my breasts, teasing the nipple through the thin material of my T-shirt. Lifting it up, baring my breasts, he continues the sweet torture, pinching one nipple then the other. I groan and whisper his name, becoming louder when he lowers his hand to play with my clit. My orgasm hits me out of nowhere, with no warning whatsoever, and for those few moments of ecstasy, it consumes me, the pleasure radiating from my centre, spreading to my thighs and lower belly. He continues to fuck me slowly, whispering my name as he comes. With a soft kiss to the back of my neck, he pulls out of me and rolls me onto my back, looking deep into my eyes. “You are so beautiful in the morning.”
“Just in the morning?” I tease, arching a brow. His lip twitches. “Fishing for compliments today?” “Always,” I fire back, making him laugh. “You’re always beautiful, Brielle. I’ve never seen anything like you.” I study him for a moment, our eyes locked, and then I lift my head to kiss him. I say with the kiss the words I can’t vocalise. He may think that I’m beautiful, but I think he is everything.
Chapter Nine “Spencer is the ninth guy I’ve slept with,” Christina says, painting her toenails a bright red. “And number nine is both of our favourite number. Don’t you think that it’s meant to be?” I roll my eyes at my best friend. “That’s the first thing you say to me this morning? How about what happened last night with Spencer? Did you get any body-burying details?” “Not really,” she says, closing the nail polish bottle. “I started asking questions but then he….” She trails off. “Wait a minute. He distracted me with sex! That scheming bastard!” “So you didn’t get any information?” I probe, laughing at the expression on her face. “He just said that they took care of it,” she says, tapping her finger on her chin. “And then he took care of me.” I shake my head at her. “So easily distracted, Christina. All someone has to do is swing a penis at you, and you lose all coherent thought.” “Not someone,” she huffs. “It needs to be a man. Not like a woman with a strap-on, or something. If a woman swung that at me, I’d grab it off her and hit her over the head with it.” I open my mouth, then close it. Where does she come up with this shit? “Just any man, hey?” “Just Spencer,” she corrects, then adds, “Or Jason Momoa.” “Or anyone with a beard,” I insert. We both start laughing like that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever said. “What’s so funny?” Sylar asks as he walks into the room, his eyes eating me up before flicking to Christina. “Where’s Spencer?” “He left,” she says, shrugging. “Something about Jack.” Oh right, I almost forgot about the infamous Jack. Sylar brings his gaze back to me. “Do you need anything? Have you eaten?” I nod. “I had some toast.” “That’s it?” he asks, brow furrowing. “Message me if you want anything, I’ll bring something back. Whatever you want.” “Why, where are you going?” I stand and approach him. “Is everything okay with the whole… situation? And when does Sebastian get back?” I shift on my feet awkwardly. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to repeat what happened last night out loud. At least not to him. If I say it out loud, it makes it real. I’m kind of pretending that nothing happened. Weak? Maybe. But to be honest, I don’t know what else to do. I’m glad I have Christina here to navigate through this bizarre time with, but the woman doesn’t seem to be fazed by anything, including dead uncles. Sebastian went back home to sort his life out, pack up, and return. I
miss having the guy around. “Yeah,” he says, bringing me gently closer to his body. “I’m going to go and see what those two are up to. And Sebastian should be back in a week or two. Call me if you want anything in particular.” He looks to Christina and adds, “You too.” “I get pregnancy privileges? Awesome,” she says, smiling widely. “I’ll start putting together a list.” He kisses me on my forehead and then leaves the house. “Surely getting away with murder isn’t this easy,” Christina says, tilting her head to the side. “Maybe we should follow him.” “Follow Sylar?” The thought is appealing, just because I want to know what those three are up to. “I like this idea, but I don’t know if we’re stealthy enough to pull it off. Also, he’s probably pulling out of the driveway right now.” “I’m stealthy as fuck,” she says, standing up. “I’ve been stalking my boyfriends and exboyfriends for different reasons ever since I started dating.” I blink slowly. “You know you’re fucking crazy, right?” She nods. “How about we plan for it, and next time we can follow them. We need to borrow someone’s car though. Who can we ask? Or maybe we should just take a taxi. I doubt anyone would suspect a taxi.” I arch a brow. “Where are we going to find a taxi driver who is going to follow someone for us? I really don’t think that’s in their job description.” However, as the words leave my mouth, I realise that I do know someone who would be up for something like that. “Fred!” Christina and I say at the same time, sharing an excited glance. Fred is a customer of mine, and a local taxi driver. He’s a genuine, great guy, and he loves us, so I’m sure we could rope him into helping us with a little investigative work. It’s not like we’re hurting anyone, and it would just be like a normal fare for him. She rubs her hands together like she’s mentally concocting an evil scheme. Which to be fair, she probably is. “Okay, I’ll speak to Fred.” “I should probably get to work,” I say, looking longingly at the couch, “since we aren’t following through with our terrible stalking plan.” I took myself off the roster after Sylar wouldn’t get off my back until I did. He said that there’s no point in me working myself to death when we don’t need the money. He might not need the money, but I do, and it’s not even that. It’s my business, and I still have to run it. There’s no way I’m not going in. When I have the baby, Christina will take over for me, but until then, there’s no reason for me not to go there every day, even if it’s just for a few hours.
“We are following through, just not right now,” she says, wiggling her perfectly arched brows. “Right,” I say, grinning. She grins back. We really are easily amused.
***** “Hello,” she says into the phone, then curses under her breath. “I took the wrong turn. Crap, I don’t know how to get around!” I snicker. “You always know how to get around, Christina.” “Hey,” she says, trying to sound offended. “I’m an angel. Practically the Virgin Mary.” “Yeah, okay.” My tone’s filled with amusement. “Where are you exactly? We ordered dinner, and I thought you were coming.” “I am,” she says, pauses, then yells at some driver. “Why the fuck does no one know how to merge?” I kiss Snoop’s head and roll my eyes. “When will you be here?” “Give me twenty,” she says. “See you soon.” We hang up, and I lift my head when Spencer comes to sit next to me on the couch. “Is she coming?” I nod. “Yeah, said she will be here in twenty.” “That’s probably an hour in Christina time.” He leans back and glances at the ceiling before returning his gaze to me. “Jack is leaving town tomorrow. This whole thing will be over.” “So we just pretend it didn’t happen?” I ask, eyes going wide. “This isn’t some small family secret, Spencer. Your uncle is dead. And you’re friends with the guy who killed him. And we all know about it.” “Well, when you say it like that,” he grumbles, clearing his throat. “Look, we haven’t been saints, Bree. Sylar and I didn’t exactly have a normal upbringing, and our uncle wasn’t just a normal man. But you have nothing to worry about. In fact, you’re probably the safest woman in the world with my brother.” “I never said I felt unsafe, Spencer,” I say, trying to explain to him how I’m feeling. “I know Sylar would never hurt me, or let me be hurt. I know he’s had a rough childhood, and he has secrets that I hope one day he will feel comfortable enough to open up to me about, but what are you going to do if the police show up here?” “They won’t,” he says, shaking his head. “We’ve covered all our tracks. We know what we’re doing.” “I don’t want to know how.” I wrap my arms around myself. “I don’t understand why you had to cover up for what Jack did. Shouldn’t this whole thing have been his problem to deal with?”
“Jack is practically a brother to Sylar,” Spencer explains. “Or at least he was. Sylar is nothing but loyal, and we knew about how our uncle was trying to take Jack down. I don’t know, we were just all involved in the situation. We couldn’t just turn our backs on him.” I don’t really like Jack, or what he’s done and how he’s done it, but I don’t say anything. The man is obviously not one to mess with, going by the man now buried six feet under, but since he’s leaving tomorrow, I just hope that he never returns. Maybe things will go back to normal. Or as normal as they can be, since we’re now all in this together.
Chapter Ten We slide into the cab, dressed all in black, large sunglasses covering half of our faces. Fred glances at each of us and shakes his head, amusement written all over his expression. “Well, I feel like today just got interesting,” he says, reversing out of our driveway. “You have no idea,” I mutter from the backseat. Both of us decided to sit in the back so we’d be harder to see. “So who are we following exactly?” he asks, glancing at us through the rear-view mirror. “Our boyfriends,” Christina says confidently and without shame. “Lucky men,” Fred mutters under his breath, making me smirk. “Boyfriend stalking it is. And don’t forget you promised a snack stop.” “Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” I say, rubbing my belly. “It’s going to be the highlight of this trip.” “I think my convo will be the highlight,” Fred says, his tone laced with amusement. “I think your outfit is the highlight,” I say, looking at his clothing and laughing. “Did you wear that just for the occasion? Oh my God, you’re so cute, Fred.” He’s dressed in head-to-toe camouflage. He really is such a great guy. “Had to dress the part for this operation,” he huffs, squaring his shoulders. “Now, let’s find out what your men are up to.” “That’s the spirit,” Christina says, rubbing her hands together. “Let’s get this plan rolling.” “What are we looking for?” he asks. “No idea,” I tell him. “We just want to see what they’re up to when they go gallivanting. We think they’ve gone to visit their friend, who is staying at a hotel.” We only have three hotels in this town, so not much investigative skill is going to be needed. “So we’re just doing hotel drive-bys?” he asks, sounding upset we aren’t doing anything wilder. “Sorry to disappoint, Fred,” Christina says, unable to keep the grin off her face. “Something fun might come up. You never know what’s going to happen when you’re out with Bree and me.” “Oh, I know what happens,” he says, driving towards the first hotel. “You get drunk, and whoever is with you, they get drunk too.” My shoulders shake with laughter. “That’s only because we call you when we’re drunk and need a ride. It doesn’t mean we’re always drunk.” “Yeah, okay,” he says, disbelief filling his tone. “What’s the bet we stop at a bar on the way home?” “I’m pregnant,” I point out. “So I don’t think that will happen.” I pause, then add, “Unless you
guys want to. I can be designated driver.” Christina nods like it’s the best idea she’s heard. “What do you say, Fred?” “I say yes,” he says, nodding animatedly. “But first let’s see what these men are up to, to make you both suspicious enough to plan today’s events.” “Perfect,” I say, staring out of the window. I feel a little guilty to be doing this, to be honest. Most women would do something like this if they thought their man was cheating, but I know that Sylar would never betray me in that way. The situation with him is completely different; it’s him not telling me everything because he wants to protect me, or because he doesn’t think I can handle the truth. And maybe he’s right, maybe I can’t, but it’s not like I can sit back and not be curious about what the truth is. It’s hard. I know he keeps things from me, and I know it’s probably better that way. But it’s human nature to be curious, and finding out whatever we can can’t hurt. He won’t even know. Famous last words.
***** Fred refuses to play music and tells us to sing instead. It’s his sense of humour; he finds it hilarious, and it’s not the first time he’s done this to us. Christina starts rapping some song I haven’t even heard, and Fred and I lose it laughing. Not exactly investigator behaviour, but we’re probably the dodgiest ones who have ever tried to do so anyway. We find Sylar ’s car at the third hotel. I should have known luck wasn’t on our side by that alone, even though the saying goes something like ‘third time lucky.’ “Do you want me to come in?” Fred asks, glancing up at the tall building. “How exactly are you guys going to pull this off without being seen?” Christina and I share troubled glances. “We haven’t really thought this far,” I admit, cringing. Private investigator fail. “If there’s a guy at the reception I could try and flirt my way to get any room information?” Christina suggests, plumping her breasts. “And then we can go from there.” I roll my eyes at her. “That shit only works in movies. And what if it’s a woman?” We both look at Fred, who is kind of old, bald, and not really a ladies’ man, but his kind eyes make up for the fact. He simply grins. “I’m in.” Such a champion. Christina heads in by herself to check out the situation. When she returns, she looks to Fred and says, “You’re up.” Fred gets out of the taxi, gives us a nod each, then heads inside.
“What does she look like?” I ask Christina, curious about the woman Fred needs to charm. “Blonde, pretty, and young,” she says, wincing. “I mean like really young.” I blink. Yeah, this isn’t going to work then. “Do we have a backup plan?” “No,” she whispers. “But we probably should have.” I’m racking my mind for a new idea when Fred returns to the car, a grin on his face. “They’re in the penthouse. At least you both chose men with money.” “How the hell did you manage to get that info?” I ask, eyes wide. I look to Christina to see a similar look on her face. Surprise, awe, and confusion. “What, do you think I can’t charm the ladies?” he asks defensively, lifting his chin. “I’ll have you know I was quite the ladies’ man in my time.” “I’m sure you were,” I say, smirking. “But the chick was young, so if you hit on her, that kind of makes you a creep.” He crosses his arms over his camouflaged chest. “Fine. She’s my niece.” His niece gave him the information? We process that for a few seconds, then both crack up laughing. “What’s so funny?” he asks, sounding put out. “You should have let us think you were a creep,” Christina says, grinning at him. “Oh, come on, Fred, I’m just playing. Thank you. Otherwise we’d never have found out where they were. Although we should have guessed it would be the most expensive room.” “We don’t know if Jack is loaded or not though,” I say, shrugging. I look towards the entrance. “Should we head up? Fred, if they come down, maybe you should follow them and see where they go. We’ll hide somewhere, and you can come get us afterward?” “Sounds good,” he says, nodding. “And then, the bar.” “Deal.” We walk inside, and I smile at Fred’s niece before we get into the elevator. Christina presses the button. “Have you ever fucked inside an elevator?” I shake my head. “Have you?” “No, but I want to.” She glances around the confined space. “I wonder if Spencer will fuck me on the way down.” “We’re not meant to let them know we’re here,” I say, throwing my hands in the air dramatically. “Pay attention, woman.” “Oh, right. Well in case they do end up seeing us, that can be a very satisfying plan B.” I tilt my head to the side and consider. “Fine. But don’t forget we’re taking Fred to the bar.” “Of course. I’d never forget alcohol.” The elevator stops and the doors open. I walk left but then realise we need to go right, and Christina crashes into my back.
“Sorry,” she whispers. “No problem.” We make our way to their room and press our ears to the door. I can hear voices, and one of them is definitely Sylar ’s. “What the hell are the two of you doing here?” Spencer asks from behind us, making me jump. I turn to look at him as he stares at us with a quizzical look on his face, a carton of beers in his hand. They’re having a party? “And how the hell did you get here?” “You guys getting drunk without me?” Christina asks him, eyeing the beers. “What is this? Some bachelor pad shit? Better not be any strippers in there.” “We’re just saying bye to Jack,” Spencer says, looking between us. “What the hell did you think we were doing?” Christina and I exchange a look. “I don’t know. Something a little more… devious.” Spencer sighs and knocks on the door. “We didn’t want you two near Jack,” he explains. “That’s all. And he’s leaving tonight, and we want to make sure he does so. We didn’t want him dropping by the house, so we came here.” When no one answers the door, he knocks again—harder. “We heard voices before, why is no one answering?” Spencer puts down the carton and tells us to move back. He then proceeds to kick at the door while I watch in fascination. Four kicks later, we’re in. “Fuck,” Spencer mutters as we walk into the room, only to have a gun pointed at us by Jack. “Brought company, did you?” he asks, grinning at Christina and me. “Welcome to the party, ladies.” I gasp when I see Sylar lying on the ground, face down. “What the fuck have you done to him?” I ask, running to him and lowering to the ground, not caring if Jack tries to shoot me or not. Jack keeps his gun trained on Spencer, the only threat in the room, while I struggle to roll Sylar over onto his back. “He’s fine,” Jack assures me. “I just slipped something into his drink.” “You date rape drugged my man?” I growl, glaring up at him. “The same man who helped you and defended you? You have no fucking loyalty whatsoever, do you? You don’t deserve to have a friend like Sylar.” “Calm down,” Jack commands in a condescending tone that has me wanting to kill him with my bare hands. “What do you want, Jack?” Spencer asks, his eyes not leaving his sudden adversary. “Bree is right. We helped you, and my brother had your back, and now you pull something like this?” “I need money,” he states, ignoring Spencer ’s other points. “Transfer two hundred thousand into my account, and you will never see me again. Simple as that. I need to go into hiding, and I’ve run out
of funds.” “So steal some more,” Christina says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Aren’t you some sort of criminal?” “That’s what I’m doing, sweetheart,” Jack says to her, grinning and showing his teeth. “From your friends though? That’s low, even for you,” she says. I lift my head to see Spencer move to stand in front of her completely, probably knowing her mouth is about to make her the first target. “Let the women go, and we can sort the money out,” Spencer says. “No. Now that they’re here, I can use them,” Jack says, looking pleased with himself. “The women don’t leave until I get the money.” “I have to go to the bank for such a large transfer, and there’s no way in hell I’m leaving the women here with you.” “They will be untouched,” Jack promises. “Your word doesn’t mean anything,” Spencer says, shaking his head. “Then I guess we’re at an impasse.” When I feel Sylar tighten his hand around mine, I know that he’s awake, and he’s letting me know that he is. And now we need to get everyone out of this without any of us being killed.
Chapter Eleven Without being able to talk to Sylar, I have no idea what he wants me to do, but I need to think of something. I figure if Jack concentrates on Spencer and the rest of us, Sylar can jump up and unarm him. It’s a gamble, and someone could get hurt, but I can’t think of anything else. I stand up and move next to Spencer. “We can wait here, Spencer,” I say, Jack’s eyes on me. “I’m sure he wouldn’t do such a thing as hurt a woman, right, Jack? Surely there’s some humanity left in you somewhere.” He smirks, seemingly amused. “I don’t know about all that, but like I said, the two of you will remain unharmed. I want the money, and that’s it. Also, I’m not fucking stupid enough to touch either of your women. I don’t exactly want to be looking behind me for the rest of my life.” “Shake on it,” I say, offering him my hand. As he moves closer to shake my hand, Sylar jumps up and hits him from behind. The gun goes flying across the room. Spencer scrambles to get it, while Sylar pins Jack to the floor. Spencer then trains the gun on Jack’s head. “Brielle, you and Christina need to get home, now,” Sylar commands. I nod, grab my best friend’s arm, and get out of there. I don’t know what they’re going to do, but I know Sylar won’t kill Jack. I also know that the two of them will handle the situation in their own way. Before I leave the room, I hear Jack say, “So Sylar gets to kill countless people, and it’s okay? All I wanted was money for a fresh start. It’s not me who’s the worse person here.” Sylar has killed? Countless people? What? Fred’s still waiting for us in the car park, and we jump in the car and tell him to drive to the nearest bar. I don’t know how to deal with what I just heard. All I know is, if I wasn’t pregnant, there’d be a bottle of vodka with my name all over it.
***** “Where the hell have you been?” Sylar asks, pulling me into him. “Why didn’t you come straight home?” Christina stumbles in drunk and grins at Sylar. “Don’t you think we make great sidekicks?” She steps into the house, calling for Spencer. “We went to a bar,” I say, stepping back and looking up at him. “I promised Fred I would, plus I needed time to think.”
“Who is Fred?” he asks, looking confused. He rubs the back of his neck, glances down, then up, and says, “You heard what he said, didn’t you?” I don’t answer, which is probably an answer in itself. Emotions pass over his face. Sadness, concern, fear. It’s the fear that gets me. I don’t want him to be scared of losing me and the baby, but my man has killed. Taken life. Did he regret it afterwards? Did he feel anything? Is he truly so dead inside? He said he was a bounty hunter, and I assumed they were men who brought in fugitives for money. Isn’t that what they do? Killing would make Sylar a hit man. I’m head over heels in love with a hit man. Boy, do I know how to choose them. “Is what he said true then?” I ask, because I need to hear the words come out of his mouth. He watches me, takes in my face, before replying, “Yes.” And just like that, one word breaks my heart. Have I been stupid this whole time? Is this something that was obvious but I’d missed? Maybe because I didn’t want to know. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I put my hands on my stomach. I know Sylar would never hurt me. I can’t see him hurting anyone, to be honest, unless he had to, like we were in danger. I place my hand on his chest, over his heart. I know this man. I do. Does your past define you? No. But this, this is a whole other monster. He has killed. How does one come out of that unscathed? They don’t. “We were trained,” he says, pain etched all over his face. “From the minute our uncle got us in his care, he started training us to be his little soldiers. I told you that. But I didn’t tell you that he trained us to kill. That he was a hit man. He killed for money, and he wanted us to do the same. And I did. I’m not proud of it, Brielle. In fact, I’m ashamed. I left the old me behind. I’m a different person now. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.” “I know,” I say quickly, feeling it’s important for him to know that. Still, the man in front of me is seemingly not a good man. Except he’s a good man to me. What a head fuck.
“I need to think,” I say, glancing up at him. “I’m going to go home for a little while, Sylar.” “I don’t want you to go,” he says quickly, expression going blank. “Stay, Brielle. Talk to me. We can work this out.” “I just need a little time to myself,” I say, taking a deep breath. I need to think. “I don’t like you being there alone,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s down the road, and I’m not asking you,” I say, and call for Snoop. I pack my stuff and grab my dog. Sylar carries my suitcase to the car, looking as miserable as I’ve ever seen him. I brought it here with some of my stuff, seeing as I’m usually here more than I am home. “I should have known,” he says, talking to himself. “There is no redemption for what I’ve done. This is exactly why I stayed away from people, especially women, until you.” I don’t know what to say to that. My heart is breaking for him, for his pain and for what he’s done, but also because I don’t know how to fix this. So I don’t. I leave it, and I go home. Alone.
***** “He’s miserable,” Christina says, studying me. “So he killed a few criminals? It’s not like he hurt any women or children.” She pauses. “And he hasn’t. I know because I asked him yesterday.” I throw a pillow at her head and bury my own in the remaining one on my bed. “I’m miserable too. And this is the man I chose to be the father of my kid. Oh my God.” I’m feeling sorry for myself. I don’t want to get out of bed and face reality. “You didn’t actually choose him,” she points out. “The baby was an accident.” “I’m going to kill you.” “That would require you leaving your bed, and hopefully showering,” she replies, sniffing. “So the man has a past, Bree. But is that what you’re going to go by? He’s been nothing but amazing to you, and to me. If I saw a man mistreat you, I’d be the first to tell you to leave, but Sylar is perfect for you. I’ve never seen you happier.” She pauses. “I mean except for right now.” “How am I meant to forget something like this, Christina?” I ask her, lifting my head and looking into her eyes. “You decide if you can live without him or not,” she says, coming to my bed and wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “I’m with you no matter what you choose. But I don’t think you should walk away. You’re having his baby. What are you going to do, not let him see the baby because of the man he used to be? If I were you, I’d be going by how you know him, the man he is now.” Would I keep him away from his baby?
No, I don’t think I could do that. It hits me that never once did it cross my mind that he wouldn’t be a good father, that he would hurt our baby. He would protect our kid with everything he has. Just like he would me.
***** “When are you going to put my brother out of his misery?” Sebastian asks as he sits down on my couch. “Nice to see you too,” I mutter, handing him a mug of hot coffee. He’s been back for two days and he’s already been here several times, checking up on me and harassing me. Just the way a brother should. Whilst trying to clear my head, I decided to pay them a visit and tell them about the pregnancy. They were surprised, but happy. They probably thought they’d never be lucky enough to have any grandkids. When they asked about the father, I smiled, and told them he’s still in the picture. They want to meet him. I told them maybe they could, soon. At the moment I don’t really know what’s going to happen, so I tried to keep it as vague as possible. “I don’t know how to get past this,” I tell him. “It’s not a small thing, Sebastian.” “You know he saved me, right?” he says, studying me. “What do you mean?” I pull my blanket up higher. “He told our uncle he would do as he wanted if he let me and Spencer go. He sacrificed himself, his morals, everything he was, so that we wouldn’t have to do anything like that. Only our uncle’s deal was only to let me go, not Spencer. I wasn’t cut out to be a fighter like they were. I was a nerd growing up, and they knew I wouldn’t survive going through our uncle’s training. He saved me, Bree. The deal he made allowed me to go to medical school, to be exempt from our uncle’s merciless training techniques and methods. Sylar sacrificed himself for me, and so did Spencer.” I process his words. “And then you lost contact?” Sebastian looks down into his coffee, like it suddenly holds all the answers. “I wanted to turn my back on everything. We didn’t have a good life after our parents died. We didn’t have a childhood. Sylar had it the worst, but I just… wanted a new life. A fresh start. So like an asshole, I stopped keeping in contact with them. I turned my back on them, after they saved me.” “Wow,” I say, amazed at Sylar ’s strength. Everything he does, it’s for the people he cares about. He’s the least selfish person I know. While I may not ever understand what he’s done and what he’s been through, I do know who he is now. I know he loves me, I know he treats me like I deserve, and I know I was born to love him too. It hits me that it’s enough. He’s done bad things, but that doesn’t
mean he’s a bad man, not in my eyes. He’s been nothing but good to me. He’s been a man in a world of boys, a true love in a world of no fairy tales. I can’t live without Sylar. I stand up, my blanket falling on the floor, a new sense of determination washing over me. I need to make things right. “Where are you going?” Sebastian asks, but the gleam in his eyes tells me he already knows. “I’m going to get my man.”
Chapter Twelve “You’re here,” he says as he opens the door, those blue eyes taking me in like he’s never seen anything so special. I haven’t seen him in five days, but it feels like it’s been five years. I wrap my arms around him, my cheek against the soft material of his T-shirt, and breathe in his scent. “Yes, I’m here. And thank you for giving me space and time to think.” He didn’t push or press me. He waited patiently. I appreciate that. He kisses the top of my head. “It feels so good having you back in my arms.” I glance up at him. “I’m never going to leave them.” His eyes widen. “You aren’t going to leave me? What about everything you heard? Brielle—” “I know who you are now, Sylar, and that’s enough for me. I’m sorry I left you this week, but I needed to think. And I missed you so much. And—” He cuts me off with a kiss. It’s soft and sweet, like he’s thanking me for something. For seeing him for who he truly is? For being here? I don’t know, but soon the kiss turns hungrier, and I’m lifted in his arms and being carried up the stairs to his bedroom. “Finally!” Spencer calls out, but we both ignore him, too focused on each other. No one else exists right now, no one. The door is slammed and locked, and I’m placed on the bed in a sitting position. I slide my shoes off while he lifts my dress up and pulls my panties down, and then I lie back as he starts kissing up my bare thighs. “I missed you,” he murmurs before he licks my pussy. “I missed you too,” I say with a smile on my face, moaning when he runs his tongue along my clit a few times, then starts to lick my centre. He knows just how I like it, just how to drive me wild, and it’s not long before I’m coming. He doesn’t stop, tongue continuing to work its magic as wave after wave of pleasure hits me. I’m still in that sated state of ecstasy when he stands up, undresses, and lies back on the bed, flashing me a cheeky grin and biting his bottom lip. Taking his silent challenge, I remove my dress and my bra and straddle his body, kissing his lips as I take his length into my hand and stroke a few times before sliding him inside of me. I start to move, and he tilts his pelvis so it’s easier for me to grind my clit on him. He reaches up to play with my breasts, squeezing playfully before lifting his head to take one into his mouth, and then the other. I start to move faster, grinding my hips up and down until Sylar gently rolls me onto my back, making sure not to put any weight on
me, and starts to thrust into me. He looks into my eyes. “I love you.” “I love you too,” I say, then curse under my breath as another orgasm hits me. This time Sylar joins me, his teeth clenching as he finishes inside me. We face each other and cuddle for a long time afterwards, just looking into each other ’s eyes. “You have no idea how happy I am you came back,” he whispers, kissing my lips softly. “And if you didn’t, I was going to come and get you anyway.” I smile against his lips. “I’ll always come back,” I reply, deepening the kiss. Sylar is my home.
***** “How was your first day at the hospital?” I ask Sebastian, checking out his fancy doctor clothes. “It went well,” he says, nodding. “The most beautiful woman came in.” “On day one? Pretty sure that’s frowned upon,” I say, grinning. “Did you check her past medical history? Do doctors do that?” “Dodgy ones do,” Sylar says as he walks into the room, smirking. “I’ll have you know that I’m an utmost professional,” Sebastian says, lifting his chin. “You totally checked, didn’t you?” “Well, I was curious about her!” he says, throwing his hands up. “I just wanted to see her name and age, etcetera, not any other details.” “Like whether she’s had an STD?” I suggest, chuckling at my own comment. “I’ll have you know she’s STD free,” he says, huffing. “Once was a close call, but it was a false positive.” Sylar and I share a look, then burst into laughter. Sebastian glances at each of us, then stalks out of the room. “Can I take you out for dinner tonight?” Sylar asks, giving me a quick kiss. “STD talk make you hungry?” I joke, taking a bite out of my green apple. He shakes his head at me. “Sure, dinner sounds good, actually. I’ve been craving a thick, juicy steak for a while now.” “Why didn’t you say something? You know I would have gotten whatever you wanted straight away,” he says, frowning because I’m not acting like a pregnant diva. “It’s fine.” I roll my eyes. It’s nice having someone to fuss over me, but I don’t need it. He told me what happened with Jack, even though I could tell he didn’t want to. They handed him in to the police, and now he’s back in prison. I think they did the right thing,
because Jack isn’t loyal to anyone except himself. If the body they buried is ever found, I think they should pin it on Jack, too. I mean, he is the one who did it, and I’m not letting any of my boys go down for a crime they didn’t commit. “Well, steakhouse it is then,” he says, cupping my face with his hands. “We need to talk about baby names.” I gave him a list earlier, and by the look on his face, he doesn’t seem overly impressed. “You don’t like any of the names?” I ask, brow furrowing. “I thought I had some good ones in there.” “You did,” he says, eyes dancing with humour. “I was kind of wondering if we could use my mom’s name as her middle name.” He pauses. “If she is a she.” “What was your mom’s name?” I ask, feeling terrible that I don’t already know this. I definitely should know this. “Christine,” he says, and waits for my reply. “Close to Christina,” I say, beaming. Two birds, one stone. Wow, I really am a terrible human being. “I veto Snow, though,” he says, wincing. “I don’t like that name. Ireland though, I do like.” “Ireland Christine,” I say, nodding. “I think it sounds beautiful.” “And if it’s a boy?” “I feel like we should stick to the S theme your mom started,” I say, smiling. “How about Sage? Or Seth.” “I like Sage,” he says, kissing my temple. “Be ready for dinner in an hour.” “Okay,” I say, pulling him in for a deep, teasing kiss. One that I know he’ll be thinking about until we can get back home and finish what we’ve started. “I knew you were trouble from the first time I laid my eyes on you,” he says against my lips. “The best kind though, right?” “The very best,” he whispers, grinning, and then disappears from the kitchen. I take another bite out of my apple, smiling.
***** I know something is up the second I walk into the restaurant and no one else is there. The place is covered in candles, and the setup is absolutely stunning. I turn in a circle, taking in the room before looking at Sylar, who is now down on one knee. Oh my God. “I never thought I was capable of loving someone and being loved until you came into my life,” he says, opening a velvet black box. “I love you so much, Brielle. Will you marry me and be mine
forever?” “Yes,” I nearly yell, allowing him to slide the ring on my finger. He stands up and I jump into his arms, kissing him and holding him as tightly as I possibly can. I look at the ring, how beautiful it is, and know Christina had a hand in helping Sylar choose it. It’s my dream ring, the one I’ve been wanting since I was a little girl. A pear-shaped diamond on a white gold band, it is absolutely amazing. “It’s beautiful,” I say, emotion hitting me. I’m going to be married. To Sylar. A man who came into my little coffee shop in a small, unimportant town and stole my heart away. I never settled for the regular, the expected, and someone more perfect than I could imagine came into my life, and he’s staying here. And then the waiter brings out my steak, and I can’t hold back my happy tears.
Epilogue “I’ve never seen such a cute baby,” Sebastian says again, glancing down at my daughter ’s face. “And I’m a doctor.” “No need to hog her,” Spencer says. “I don’t care who you are. I’m going to be her favourite uncle.” Sebastian makes a scoffing noise. “Yeah, right. I’m the young, cool uncle. I don’t know what you are.” “Her favourite,” Spencer says again, holding his arms out. “Now let me hold her again.” I watch with amusement as the two argue, yet are so gentle every time they get to have her in their arms. Between the three brothers, her father and two uncles, I kind of feel sorry for her. Dating is not going to be a fun time for her. Christina comes back into the room, and Spencer hands her the baby, kissing the two of them on the forehead before leaving with Sebastian so the room isn’t too crowded. “You made one cute loaf of bread,” Christina says, holding Ireland in her arms. “She is beautiful, Bree.” “I know,” I say, smiling at the blue-eyed, dark-haired baby. “How’s your vag feeling?” she probes, trying to lift up the covers. “Can you not?” I groan, flashing her an evil look. “How do you think my vag is feeling? It just pushed out a loaf of bread, remember?” “But what a perfect loaf,” she says, smiling down at Ireland. I can literally see her falling in love with her—the same way her dad did, followed by her uncles. This girl is going to have everyone wrapped around her little finger, the world in her palm. “Okay, give her back to me now,” Sylar says, scowling at Christina, making me laugh. “Fine.” Sylar takes his daughter into his arms and kisses her forehead. My heart melts, seeing him like this with her. I always knew he would be an amazing father, and I was right. Being a mother is unlike anything I’ve ever known. Love at first sight is a very, very real thing. She is so worth the ice pad in my underwear. “Did you call your parents?” Sylar asks me, even though his eyes don’t leave his daughter. “Yes, they are on their way now.” Ireland starts to fuss, so Sylar hands her back to me so I can feed her. He watches her with such an adoring look in his eyes, like he can’t believe that she’s here. “I love you,” he says to me. “You’ve given me the best gift in the world. She is my heart, Brielle.
I don’t know how to explain it.” I place my hand on his and smile, our eyes connecting. Happily ever afters are real. I know firsthand.
The End