Page 99 of Brutal

“Not much,” I admit. “And I didn’t say anything because you bought me, tortured me, and tried to break me.”

Drake sighs, but he nods in reluctant understanding. “Okay. I’m sorry. I really am, Mimi. But now…” He shakes his head, reaching out to take my hand and pull me close to him. “Now it feels like it’s too late, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Your friends seem to think things aren’t set in stone.” I gesture to Chase and Hunter, who are visible through the floor to ceiling windows. “They can help with a lot of the board things. You and I can…” I take a breath. “I’ll stay, Drake. I have some ideas of what you might need. But I think you’ll have to see a proper psychiatrist so you can get proper, prescribed medication. Not whatever Patrick was selling you.”

He opens his mouth, probably to argue, but he doesn’t speak for a moment. “Okay, but it has to be like… virtual, okay? I can’t be seen going to a psych office. And meds…” He cringes. “What if it gets out? I don’t really need meds.”

I lift my brows at him.

He visibly deflates. “Okay,” he mutters. “Fine. But I’m not seeing a therapist. I’ve done too much illegal shit for that.”

Baby steps, I guess. I nod and take a step closer to him. “Do you want me to sit in on your brainstorming session with the boys? Or are those trade secrets?”

“I want you there,” he says, sounding steady for the first time since I arrived. “Please.”

“All right.” I struggle to think of something else to say, but Drake wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a tight embrace.

I close my eyes and hug him back. He’s larger than me, and physically so much stronger, but right now it feels like I’m the one holding him up.

For a moment, he lets us stay like that, then he hauls me up a little and kisses me. “Okay.” He shakes himself off physically, loosening his shoulders. “The board isn’t going to buy that Caroline was fucking with my schedule. We need—” he begins, only to cut himself off when he realizes Chase and Hunter aren’t there.

He gestures at them through the glass, and they come back in.

Drake takes my hand, tugging on it as he leads me to the couch.

He doesn’t let go of my hand for the entirety of our little brainstorming session.

Hunter and Chase have left, but Drake still has his hands on me. It’s not like he wants to do anything in particular, but more because he’s worried that I might disappear.

“We could get a nap in,” I suggest. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

Drake looks apprehensive, his gaze flicking from me to the door, then back. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“I came back,” I point out. “If I didn’t want to be here, I could just have stayed away.”

He slowly exhales, then nods. “All right. Are you hungry or anything? Hunter said you bought groceries—” He cuts himself off, and he has the grace to wince. He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you need, Mimi.”

“I bought groceries for my sister.” I look down at our hands, still twined together. “Although if we want to grab food, I might need my hand back.”

“Your sister,” he repeats. He doesn’t quite meet my eyes. “So she’s out? That’s good. Is she doing well?”

“Yeah.” I squeeze his hand. “Thank you for buying her out of there.” I let out a small laugh. “You didn’t even tell me. I was pretty impressed, Drake.”

He runs his hand through his hair again, tousling it even more. “I had the money,” he says, sounding awkward. “And I know she’s your sister and all, but that you had problems, so I wasn’t sure how you’d feel.” He lets out a bitter little laugh. “I wasn’t entirely unselfish. I expected you to leave me to go to her anyway if I told you.”

“I wouldn’t have known how to feel about it.” I sigh loudly. “It’s a mess. Both of us. I’m not in the best place mentally either. I wanted to lash out at her, to blame her for everything, but… when she opened her door for me… The relief I felt. She was still there.”

Drake nods, and I’m still a little impressed he doesn’t brag about the money he apparently left for her, too. It hadn’t been enough to where she can live without a job, but even so. Keeping her apartment was a good start.

Baby steps.

“I think I told you my parents are dead,” he says. I remember. He’d been really fucking drunk — not that that had been anything new — but he hadn’t told me anything beyond that. “I don’t have any other family.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

He shrugs. “It was a relief,” he said bluntly.

I stay silent, not too surprised by the confession.