Page 92 of Dangerous Promises

Isla places her hand on my arm, and implores me to look at her. The earnest look in her eyes floats the anger away from my body. What I feel in its place is the raw grief that I've been pushing away.

"No," she says, "you wouldn't."

The grief, this time, comes out the way it was always meant to feel. It floods me, and yet my only outward reaction is to wipe my palm over my mouth to try and contain it.

Fuck.

This hurts.

It's a feeling that takes over every nerve ending in my body like it's ripping apart my bones. I've been turned inside out and every organ bleeds outside my body while it tries to survive somewhere it doesn't belong. It's unnatural to feel this much pain and not die from it. Because something this potent could kill.

At the end of the day, Isla is right.

I wouldn't do it again. Any of it.

I wouldn't aim the gun at Sage. I wouldn't shoot Prince. I wouldn't make a death promise. I wouldn't leave my brother to call the shots.

It was Victor's time to die.

That realization pierces me and I double over, holding my stomach to stop from being sick right over the edge of their pool.

Oh, God.

It... fuck, it was Victor's time. He had gotten out of control. He was losing it. Between the manic behavior and teaming up with Chet...

"Oh God," I say, repeating my thoughts out loud as Isla pats my back. "It was Victor's time."

Isla purses her lips in agreement but doesn't respond.

I wish I could've saved him. But not from them. From himself. I hate everything that he did and everything that he turned out to be. I know he's not a victim, but in my mind I'll always wish there was a way I could've saved him.

Even though I know full well now that there was no way for me to stop him. I had no idea what he'd planned with Chet. What he really wanted by bringing us into this mess with the DeMarcos. Or how far down this path he had really gotten.

He kept me completely in the dark.

Maybe I could've stopped him if I'd known. But I didn't. The only mistake I made was not stopping him in the short moments I did know. I gave Sage her gun. I gave her the knife that killed my brother.

"It's not too much to grant yourself forgiveness you know," Isla says, still patting my back with a gentle comforting touch.

"No," I bark out, the venom in the words surprising even me. "I do not need to ask forgiveness for what happened to Prince." It's only now that I realize I do have rogue tears dripping down my cheek.

"Not for him," Isla says. "For what happened to Victor."

I shrug her hand off my back, but don't dare move to wipe the tear that's now dripping on my chin. "I don't blame myself," I lie, teeth gritted and doing my best to turn my pain into anger instead.

"Yes you do," Isla replies, knowing me better than I wish she did and still showing me much more patience than I deserve.

I wish it wasn't so obvious how much I do blame myself. For all of it and especially for allowing Victor to be killed. Because it does feel like something that I allowed to happen. Whether through inaction or indecision. Maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe this could all have ended the same way, but without my brother needing to die, if I hadn't left him there to do so.

When I look back at Isla, she is still staring at me, patiently waiting for me to decide I'm ready to talk to her.

"I can't," I say, the words barely audible.

"I understand," she says.

We sit for a moment. Letting the fresh air sweep away all the things that have been said. After a while, Isla turns to me, giving me her full attention when she finally asks, "Can you... forgive her?"

I blink slowly, grateful that both the anger and the tears are gone. Absorbed into my skin, not showing, but always there. My heart beat slows and I clutch my hand over my chest, squeezing the fabric there as I close my eyes and admit it out loud. "I already do."