“H-How?” He frowned, trying to process not only everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, but the fact that his brother was standing just inside the foyer, watching him uncertainly. “How do you know my brother? I thought you weren’t from around here.” “I’m not,” Dillan confirmed. “But Byron has lived around here for decades. He knows Luther and he recognized your last name.” Derek nodded slowly. That made sense, small towns and all. Slowly, he made his way to where Deke and Luther waited until he stood a few feet in front of his brother. For all the times he’d imagined this, coming up with just the right apology, his words failed him. Then, Deke closed the last few steps. He grabbed him and wrapped him in a tight hug. Choking back a sob of relief, Derek held his brother, returning his hug. “I’m so sorry,” Derek whispered before his throat closed.
