“And I missed my brother,” he admitted, his tone held a vulnerability his stoicism would never betray. “Stepbrothers,” I corrected. “And we were never just that, Cole.” We had been more. We had been sinful. And the high voltage of electricity sizzling through my veins warned me we were all those things still. Time and space would never change that. “But we aren’t even that anymore. Any familial link we had died with my mother.”
