Page 90 of Secrets in the Deep

His lips twitched. “You know I used toletyou take me down, right?”

“I know no such thing. I won fair and square just like I would right now. You wanna test it here in this bar?”

Jesus. Only Nora could make even a hint of a smile curve his lips at a time like this. He took the whiskey from her fingers.

“Cheers.” She hit her glass against his, and they both downed the shot at the same time, the liquid burning his eyes.

“Argh, that was disgusting.” Her glass hit the counter. “Now, I’m going to say something to you. You’re going to hate it. In fact, you’re probably going to get the urge to stop me mid-sentence. Don’t. I say this out of love.”

“If you’re going to call me an idiot, don’t waste your breath. It’s already been done tonight. Twice.”

“Nope, that’s not it. I’m going to say something that’s going to hit far harder. It’s why we needed the whiskey.”

“Because the whiskey’s going to make it hurt less?”

“Whiskey makes everything hurt less.” Her expression went serious as their eyes met. “You don’t have to make all the decisions for everyone anymore.”

“Nora—”

“I’m not finished. Our mother suffered from schizophrenia.”

Ryan’s fingers tightened around the glass.

“There were days we didn’t eat,” Nora continued quietly. “Days she refused to let us out of the house. We moved twenty times in ten years because people were ‘watching’ us. You even stepped in front of thrown glasses to shield me when she thought we were the enemy. And you were just a kid. We survived those years because ofyou. Becauseyouprotected us. You made every decision that kept us alive and fed and safe.”

“That’s in the past, Nora.”

“No, Ryan. That will always be a part of us.” She tilted her head, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “I think you got really good at making decisions. With Mom. With your team.”

“Are you psychoanalyzing me like one of your students?”

“No. I’m talking to my brother.” She touched his knee. “And that brings me to the second part…no one tried to save us.”

“We moved around too much.”

“People saw.” There was pain in Nora’s eyes now. “They saw that our mother was sick. No one stepped in. No one tried to take us anywhere we’d be safe. And I think maybe that made you feellike you weren’t worth what it might cost someone to step in. And now you think you’re not worth the risk for Emily.”

Fuck. He dropped his gaze to the bar again.

“But Ryan…you are.” Her fingers tightened. “And you need to fight for her.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll always hold on to the fucking trauma that our mother put us through. But…I might also be right. Emily might still regret this decision later.”

“She won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I have eyes. And a beating heart. I see and feel the way you love each other. It’s not a love you just wake up and stop feeling one day.”

Was she right? Was he letting his childhood dictate his judgment and decision-making?

“Yo, Dusty, can we get some cocktails?” Nora called.

Ryan frowned at his sister. “Cocktails?”

“Yeah. We’ve done the heavy whiskey shit. Now we lighten the mood with some piña coladas while we concoct a plan on how to earn Emily’s trust again.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible, Nora. She already gave me a second chance, and I royally fucked it up.”