Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 125037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“You stood for me when no one else would,” Diego pointed out. “I’ve always been grateful.”
“You shouldn’t have to be grateful. I know she convinced you that, somehow, I was so much better than you, but it isn’t true. It was never true.” Rubin regarded him for a moment and then swore, something he rarely did. “Stop looking at me like that. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to know she was beating you and blaming you for everything that went wrong? Especially when it was her fault. Do you hear me, Diego? The reason we didn’t have enough food most of the time was her crappy decisions. She was good at pushing the blame onto your shoulders, and after a while, you just gave in. You believed her.”
There was truth in what Rubin said. Even Luther had pointed it out. It wasn’t that Diego couldn’t see the truth—his mind didn’t accept it. He’d been the outsider in his own family. The devil using magic even when he brought home food. Somewhere along the line, he’d stopped fighting and just accepted. It had been the only way he could survive.
“You became my purpose for living, Rubin,” Diego admitted. “You stood for me. You interfered when she took the skin off me. You were my hero, and I wasn’t ever going to allow anything to happen to you.”
“She fuckin’ programmed you to believe you were a dangerous psychopath. She was always delusional, as far back as I can remember. Toward the end, she hallucinated. Her hallucinations were always about demons and angels. She needed someone to be the devil, and she assigned you to that role.”
Rubin didn’t use the word “fuck.” Not ever. It was an indication that he was really upset. Diego was good at feeling and reading energy, and rage was pouring off Rubin in waves. Looking at him, one would never know. Rubin looked perfectly calm, but Diego was in his mind, and there was that dark energy swirling around him, ready to swallow them both.
Diego realized Rubin wasn’t angry with him. He was angry with their mother. Rubin had always been the voice of reason, even at a very young age. He could get their mother to listen to his logic when no one else could.
Rubin pushed his hand through his hair, and that nearly made Diego smile. He had the same mannerisms when he was agitated. He’d hero-worshiped Rubin from the moment he was born, and time had reinforced the way he felt about his brother. He hadn’t realized for a long time just how many of Rubin’s mannerisms he had.
“The demon in your head is our mother, Diego. She’s that voice. The one telling you that you’re worthless. You aren’t. When Jonquille came into my life, you must have felt pushed aside. I didn’t mean for that to happen. You’re every bit as important to me. I believe we both have a codependency, and that’s okay. That’s how we survived. When I was adding Jonquille to my life, I assumed she was enriching your life as well. I should have talked with you.”
“I love Jonquille. I’m happy you found her, Rubin. I don’t want you to think for a minute that she’s not family to me. She’s been wonderful and makes a point of including me.”
Rubin remained silent. Waiting. He wasn’t going to allow Diego to get away with his simple statement. He wanted more. That was Rubin. Anyone else Diego would have walked away from, but his brother deserved answers. And Diego wanted to find a solution. He trusted Rubin implicitly. Whatever Rubin said to him would be exactly what was truth.
“I believed you would be all right because you had her. She’s sunshine. She’s amazing. You need her in your life.”
The moment the words were said aloud, Diego realized what it sounded like. What it was. In his mind, Jonquille had taken his place in Rubin’s life. She provided him with fun and laughter, but she was also a warrior woman, much like Leila. Not quite as much of a warrior, but she would defend Rubin to the death. She would stand beside him.
“In your mind, now that Jonquille was with me, you believed you had outlived your usefulness. You were no longer needed,” Rubin interpreted.
“Something like that. Yes,” Diego admitted. “It was all very logical at the time.”
Rubin leaned toward him. “You have to work through this, Diego. We can find a therapist in one of the GhostWalker units. Joe wouldn’t toss you out if you were seeing someone; in fact, he’d encourage it. If you need to take meds, that wouldn’t necessarily exclude you from work either. The GhostWalkers don’t work the way other units do. We’re held to a different standard.”
“Higher,” Diego said. “Much higher. You know someone is always looking to get rid of us—permanently. I don’t want to be the downfall of the GhostWalkers.”