Make love? He saw forcing himself on me when I was passed out as making love?

There was no mistake.

My brother had raped me.

My silence was deafening.

Oh God, I don’t think I can pull this off. Say something damn it.

I tried my best to hold my emotions in, but I was unable to and let a tear escape down my cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Joaquín broke the hush and reached his arm out to comfort me.

“What happened that night?”

His eyes darted around the room, and then he gazed out the window. “We need to get out of here. We can talk on the road.”

I swallowed and grabbed my purse. I was relieved when it felt heavy. My gun was tucked inside a secure pocket. I’d purchased that gun to protect myself, but I never thought I would need to defend myself from my brother.

Joaquín opened the door and led me outside. I had no choice but to go with him.

“Do you want to take my car?”

“Nope. Daniel lent me his truck. Get in.”

I climbed in the truck, a truck that was not tracked, and forced my body not to shake. I’d dreamed of this very moment for the past seven months. Reuniting with my brother, seeing him walk free as the reward for all my hard work.

I wish I’d never fought for his release.

Though this mission had led me to my son. And back to Grant. I centered myself with a few calming breaths. This was my path. Everything happened for a reason.

I couldn’t even fathom how Joaquín had thought this would go. Maybe he thought he would just tell me he was in love with me, he raped me, and we had a son together, and I would just be like okay, I love you, too.

“Give me your phone,” he said as he secured his seat belt.

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

I didn’t protest. I couldn’t protest. I handed my phone to my brother, who tossed it out the window in front of the truck and then proceeded to run it over.

My phone. I had no way to communicate with the world. My fingers stroked my ring. At least Grant could track me.

Before Joaquín said another word, he whipped out of the lot and headed north. I was alone with him in a steel trap. I didn’t have a clue where Mitch was, and Grant was still in jail. I hadn’t even had a chance to leave a note or some kind of indication that I hadn’t just up and left.

But I could do this. I had to do this. And there was no chance for error.

I exhaled and placed my hand on Joaquín’s thigh. He smiled and squeezed my hand.

“I’m going to try not to get upset, but I have to know. Tell me what happened. Please, the truth.”

Joaquín stared straight ahead at the road, swallowed once, and then started talking. “Grant had been hurt in the roadside bombing. The military wasn’t going to tell you before they told his family because you weren’t his next of kin. He was still in a hospital overseas, but the rest of us had just been transported Stateside to Yuma to decompress. I was about to call you, but Mitch called April, who was at a party with you. He sped off after her, and I figured I’d go and tell you about Grant in person. I didn’t want you to be alone when you found out about him.”

He glanced at me, but I didn’t have anything to say. I wanted to know how his good intention of coming to tell me that Grant had been hurt turned into my brother forcing himself on me.

“Go on.”

“I drove straight without stopping. I didn’t tell anyone I’d left, not even Mitch. When I arrived at the party, I couldn’t find you anywhere. I went room to room, searching. I finally found you passed out in a dark room, some other motherfucker standing over you. He must’ve drugged you, but when he saw me walk in, he took off. I was going to go after him, but I couldn’t leave you there alone. I didn’t know if you had been drugged or raped or whatever.”

“Someone gave me a drink, and I felt dizzy. I went to the room to lie down.”

“I-I saw you on a bed. And I tried to wake you, honestly I did. But you spoke to me. You recognized me. You said, ‘Joaquín, Joaquín.’ I leaned in to hug you, and I just couldn’t stop myself. I’d been deployed for nine months, and all the years of denying what I felt, how much I loved you, how much I lusted after you, I lost control.”

My skin was crawling. He was seriously trying to downplay what he had done as nothing more than a lack of control. “I don’t understand.” I took a slow, deep breath and reminded myself that I was playing along. I couldn’t scream at him like I wanted to. “Joaquín, how would you feel if someone else had done what you did to me? You tell me that you love me, but . . .”

“I know. I know. I fucking hate myself. I love you, Mia. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. You just felt so good—” He stopped himself, his voice shaky. “After . . . I couldn’t stand the thought of what I’d done. I was there, waiting for you to wake, but then the door opened, and I bolted.”

“And that’s why you never told Grant you knew I’d been raped. Because you were the one who raped me.”

“It wasn’t rape. It didn’t feel like rape to me. I love you. I made love to you. And yes, that was why I didn’t tell him. I was so happy you dumped him. I drove to San Francisco one night to tell you how I felt, hoping you felt the same. I saw you at Nordstrom’s and you had a small baby bump. I knew the baby wasn’t Grant’s because he’d been gone and then was in the hospital. I figured you left him because you knew you were pregnant and the child wasn’t his.”

A flaw in his logic. A fatal flaw. Julián was Grant’s son, not Joaquín’s. I’d visited Grant every day in the hospital. We’d made love. But Joaquín thought Julián was his. He must not have run a paternity test on Julián.

We drove up the freeway, and I forced myself to continue this charade. “You’re right. That was why I left him. I found out I was pregnant and dumped him.”

He grinned, a smug, satisfied look. I wanted to slap it off his face. “I kept tabs on your pregnancy, you know.”

“If you kept tabs on me, do you know who took our son?”

He stared ahead at the traffic, still unable to face me. “I arranged to have our son taken. Don’t ask how, because I don’t want you to know. I made a deal with some bad people, and I’ve been holding my end up of the bargain ever since.”

I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. “Why? Why not just never tell me the truth? Why put me through hell thinking I’d lost him? I loved him before he was even born.”

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell you we had made love. I knew you wouldn’t see it the same way I did, and I didn’t want you to hate me. You never would have gotten over it. You always would have wondered who his father was, and every time you looked at him you would have been reminded. I’ve loved you my whole life, and I couldn’t put you through that kind of pain. I also couldn’t stand the thought of you hating me for what I did.”

“So you took him from me?”

“I did. He’s my son, too. I’m his father and I did what I thought was best. As much as I couldn’t stand the thought of you mourning him, I also couldn’t stand the thought of him growing up wondering why his mom hated him so much.”

“I never would have hated him,” I told him again, knowing that even if things were different and that little boy wasn’t Grant’s son, I never would have held it against him.

“I thought I was helping you both.”

I believed that he believed that. I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. My son’s life depended on it. “Why did you kill Tiffany?”

“She was working with NCIS. She was going to tell them that Julián was my kid. She wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it, so I killed her. I’m sorry I lied to you about that.”

He was sorry he lied to me about murdering a woman who was involved in hiding my son from me, but he wasn’t sorry he raped me or kidnapped my son? “Now what? I do love you, more than anyone.” I paused, forcing myself not to bite my lip as I lied. “Even more than Grant. But you just admitted that you raped me and kidnapped my son. How am I supposed to get over that?”

His foot pressed on the gas pedal, and we accelerated. He was swerving so fast and crazy it made my chest ache. “I fucked up, but I did all of this because I love you. I fucking love you, Mia. Can’t you see that?”

My hands became clammy, and I prayed for the strength to get through this scene. “I love you, too. I’ve always felt that there was something special between us, a bond stronger than normal brothers and sisters. But it’s going to take some time for me. The rape ruined my life. I didn’t feel like anything could hurt so much, but then I lost my baby. I’ve been through so much.”

His foot lifted and he finally glanced at me. There was something close to remorse in his eyes, and I knew he believed what I was saying.

I mustered up the strength to continue. “I can’t promise anything, but I’m going to try to forgive you. Will you give me that time? See if I can get there?”

He let out a growl. “What about Grant?”

Grant. My husband. The love of my life. I reminded myself not to bite my lip. “It’s over between Grant and me. He’s a controlling asshole. And you were right. He treats me like shit and will never love me the way you do. I only used him to free you.”

His shoulders relaxed. “I’d do absolutely anything for you. I’ll give you all the time you need, just give me a chance to make you happy. I promise I can make you happier than Grant ever could.”

He was delusional. It was the only explanation.

“Thank you.”

Silence fell between us, and I turned to the window. How had I missed the signs? I had always thought we were exceptionally close, but clearly our connection was abnormal. We had always been affectionate. I had never seen it as wrong.

I threw him another olive branch. “I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for you to feel like you couldn’t talk to me about how conflicted you felt. I had no idea.”

“It was so damn hard. Mama and Papa told me they would either kick me out of the house or they would sign their consent so I could join the Navy at seventeen. I just wanted to make you proud of me. You’re the only one who has ever loved me.”

I grabbed his hand, and again, the tears came—both for real and for fake. I cried for me, I cried for my parents, I cried for my son, I cried for Grant, and then, I even cried for Joaquín. I hated myself for feeling sympathy for this mad man who’d destroyed my life, but I still saw him as my brother and I couldn’t help myself.