God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2) by Rina Kent
Christ.
I can’t believe I’m both talking to a cat and jealous of it.
My door slams against the wall as my brother strolls inside with the nonchalance of a jaded warrior.
Tiger jumps, then runs out, probably to find Brandon. He’s his favorite after Annika.
Eli stops by the side of my bed, stares down at me with a critical gaze, and crosses his arms. “You’re not kidnapped. Wait, have you lost your phone…” he trails off, a frown etching between his brows when he sees it on the side table.
Instead of buggering off and leaving me alone, Eli sits on the edge of the mattress and runs his fingers beneath my chin. “What’s going on, baby bro? Is someone bothering you? Who should I maim to pieces, then dump their remains in the sea?”
“Forget it.”
“Bullshit. If it’s affecting you to the point that you’re not only texting, but also defending Remi instead of drowning in sleep, I need to know about it.”
I let out a long breath. Eli is no different than a dog with a bone, and he absolutely won’t leave me alone until he gets what he wants.
And at the moment, maybe I can use his ‘wisdom’ to find a solution.
“Jeremy caught me with Annika in a grocery store and she went back with him.”
Eli’s movements halt beneath my chin, but he doesn’t remove his hand. “And? Did you beat him to a pulp?”
“I wanted to. I still do, but Annika intervened.”
“I see.”
My eyes meet his muted ones, and it reminds me of those times we got in trouble—because of his anarchist plans—and he tried everything under the sun to come out unscathed.
Without implicating either of us.
Dad usually caught on to his schemes and punished him, though. But Eli didn’t mind as long as I wasn’t blamed for his actions.
The world might consider him abnormal, but he’s been my role model ever since I figured out what a role model means.
I sit up in bed and he leans against the headboard beside me, stretching his legs out on the mattress.
“How can I get her back without antagonizing her brother?”
“Why can’t you teach him a lesson or two? Maybe a few?”
“Because she loves him. She was ready to die in a fire with him, and while I’m game to beat him the fuck up for daring to come between us, I know I’ll lose her if I do.”
“Look at my little Creigh, all grown up and catching feelings.” He reaches his hand beneath my jaw.
I slap it away, glaring. “Are you going to help or are you going to sod off?”
“Fine, fine. For your information, I feel used for my genius neurons right now, but I digress.” He tilts his head in my direction. “What happened after she went with him?”
“She asked me to trust her. I told her I’ll only give her a day before doing it my way.”
“Your way? Pretty sure that entails violence and sending him to the hospital. I thought you didn’t want her to hate you.”
“I don’t, but I’d rather have her hate me than not have her at all.”
“Oh? That’s interesting.” He hums for a beat. “But for now, do as she asked.”
“What?”
“Trust her. Let her deal with him. She’s known him her whole life and, therefore, has the ability to convince him.”
“You don’t understand. She’s anti-conflict and acts like Mum does whenever you and Dad verbally spar. She’ll always, without a doubt, use herself as a sacrifice to bring peace to the situation. And that option is out of the question.”
“You’ll never really know until you let her do her thing. Trusting her as she asked will go a long way after this hurdle is cleared. Believe me when I say, women remember when you give them freedom. It doesn’t have to be real, and you can always watch from the background, but the smokescreen of it is enough. So be patient. If that doesn’t work, you can always do what you promised after the one-day deadline is over. We’ll raid the Heathens' mansion together. Lan will take care of Kill—he can’t stand him after the whole Glyn thing. I’ll keep the crazy dog Nikolai down. Pretty sure Bran and Remi can hold off Gareth. And you’ll have fucker Jeremy all for yourself.”
I release a long breath, not wanting to agree with him but knowing it’s the wisest, most logical thing to do.
Eli leans his head on his crossed hands. “I never thought our baby Creigh would be so bewitched by a girl.”
“I’m not bewitched.”
“You can’t sleep because of her, have brought her here more times than I can count, mentioned her in a fleeting manner when talking to Mum—she won’t stop asking me about her, by the way, so compensate me for all the hassle—and you even told her about your childhood when you’ve never seen the need to mention it before. Oh, and you act like an unhinged caveman with serial killer tendencies whenever anyone, us included, goes near her. Bewitched is me putting it mildly.”
Well, fuck.
Am I that obvious?
“I like spending time with her. She’s the light I never thought I needed and the one person who can fill up the hollowness.”
“Ouch, I’m wounded. I thought filling up the hollowness was my role.”
“You’re empty yourself. How the fuck will you be able to fill up someone else?”
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