Page 58 of Balthazar's Fire
“Did you tell Balthazar who my family is?” Rebecca’s voice had taken on a harder edge, her gaze sliding from one brother to the other.
“Yes,” Sebastian answered, leaning down to kiss her head. “I did.”
“And?” Rebecca’s tone was clipped, demonstrating a side of the woman Cherie had never seen before.
“Wait,” Cherie interrupted. “What am I missing here?” She addressed the question to Balthazar, but would have been happy for any of them to elucidate for her. “What has Rebecca’s family got to do with anything? I thought we came here for you two to talk, Balthazar?”
“We did.” His brown eyes bored into her as though they were trying to send some unspoken message. “About Rebecca and who she is.”
“O-kay…” Cherie’s concentration turned to Sebastian’s lover. “So, is someone going to let me in on this little secret? Who are you, Rebecca?”
“That’s what I was going to apologize for,” Rebecca said, her jaw tightening as she considered what to say next.
“You don’t have to apologize for your brother,” Sebastian told Rebecca, wrapping his arm around her waist and squeezing her gently. “None of us is responsible for what our families do.”
“Your brother?”
Cherie’s heart sped up, although why the mention of Rebecca’s brother would ratchet up her anxiety was unclear. Rebecca had been nothing but friendly and supportive since they’d met.
Why isn’t anyone telling me anything?
“Who is your brother?” Cherie pressed, determined to get to the bottom of the conundrum.
“There’s no easy way to say this.” Rebecca swallowed. “Especially since Sebastian told me what he did to you, but…”
“Who?” Cherie demanded, wiggling free of Balthazar’s hold, although deep down, she already knew the answer.
There was only one man she’d ever met who could induce such apprehension, only one man who’d consistently belittled and denigrated her, and only one who’d snatched her away in the claws of a hideous mythological creature.
Oliver Monroe.
She tensed at the verdict, her focus fixed on Rebecca. Oliver must be Rebecca’s brother. She must be a Monroe.
“You already know, don’t you?” Rebecca shook her head sadly. “I can tell by the look in your eyes.”
“Oliver.” Cherie could scarcely even whisper his name. “You’re Oliver’s sister?”
“Yes.” There was no triumph in Rebecca’s voice, only glum resignation. “And I’m so sorry for what he did to you. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, and…” Her voice trailed away as though she’d realized the obvious—there was nothing she could say to compensate for the things Oliver had done.
“It’s not your fault,” Cherie replied. “Sebastian’s right. You’re not responsible for Oliver.”
“I know.” Rebecca wrung her hands in front of her. “But it needs to be said, and I know that Balthazar is skeptical about me being in Sebastian’s life because of my brother.”
“Well, that’s not fair.” Cherie turned to her lover, surprised at his unjust judgment. “How is Rebecca responsible for Oliver’s actions?”
“She’s not.” Balthazar’s soothing voice washed over her. “I only want to protect you, beautiful.”
“I know.” Cherie reached for his hand. “I appreciate that.”
“You both need protection from him,” Sebastian muttered. “Seems like all the men in the Monroe family are monsters.” He exchanged a pointed look with Balthazar, although no one seemed to want to elaborate.
“I hope you won’t hold it against me, Cherie.” Rebecca’s gaze landed on her. “I’d really like it if we could be friends.”
“I’d like that, as well,” Cherie admitted. “And I won’t. I despise Oliver, but he’s not you.”
“No.” Rebecca shuddered at the inference. “He’s definitely not.”
“He was my boss.”