Filed To Story: Craving The Wrong Brother Book PDF Free by Elysian Sparrow
The Trip To The Station
The moment I’m seated and buckled in, I turn to glare at him as he climbs into the driver’s seat. I don’t say a word-I don’t need to. Every inch of my posture screams, ‘You better start explaining, or I swear to God…
The moment he’s in, he groans. His knees jam awkwardly against the dash, the seat too far forward for his long legs. With a grunt, he reaches down and yanks the adjustment lever, dragging the seat back. His hand slaps the wheel as he finally finds a position that suits him.
Then he settles back with a sigh and starts the engine. He stares straight ahead, refusing to meet my eyes.
I watch him. Ten seconds. Twenty. I count them down in my head like a ticking bomb.
“The more you prolong this,” I say slowly, “the more murderous I get.”
“Who are you going to kill, Bunny?” he says. “Me? Will you strangle me to death? That would be a beautiful way to die, by the way.”
“Don’t test my patience, Knox.”
He’s still smiling.
What the hell is so funny?
I narrow my eyes, barely restraining the urge to reach across the console and yank the wheel off the road. But before I can act on my intrusive thoughts, he speaks.
“When I was overseas,” he says, “I got captured. I’ve told you this before.”
I don’t respond. I just look at him.
“Those weeks I spent in that camp were the most horrible days of my entire life. I enlisted when I was eighteen and served for almost eight years, through thick and thin, but that was my breaking point. No sunlight. Barely any food or water. No clean air. Just cold stone, chains, pain, and the sound of people screaming.”
His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it. A strain.
“I couldn’t move. Couldn’t sleep. I remember chewing on my own shirt just to trick my stomach into thinking it had something in it.”
The car turns onto a busier road, and I stay silent, throat tight. I don’t know if this is about his wife or if he’s saying this to calm me down-but it’s working. It’s so working. My anger is softening like wet paper. I didn’t expect this. Didn’t expect him to let me in like this.
“There was a man,” he continues, fingers flexing on the steering wheel. “He came every few days. I didn’t know how often, really-there was no sense of time in there. But he’d come. Drop a little food. A little water. Watch me eat. Then sneak the wrappers out. I figured he was taking a risk to sneak those items in.”
He swallows hard.
“One day, he helped me escape. Guess the food was his way of strengthening me enough to run.” His jaw is tight. “But before he helped me, he told me what it would cost him. He said the second they realized what he’d done, he was dead. No question. So, I had a price to pay. He made me memorize a number, told me his daughter had smuggled herself into the US, told me to find her. Take care of her. Give her a better life. That was the debt.”
His knuckles go white on the wheel.
“So when I got back home… I found her. Soraya. And I married her. We’ve been married for five years.”
I don’t know if I should say anything. My lips part, then press back together. The car is quiet now, save for the hum of the engine and the faint whistle of wind sneaking in through the closed windows. Knox hasn’t said another word. His grip on the steering wheel has loosened a bit, but there’s still a tightness in his shoulders, like he’s holding something in, or maybe he’s emptied it all out.
And that’s the thing. I think he has.
That pause, the way he let his voice trail off-it tells me he’s said all he wants to say.
I guess it’s my turn to speak.
“That was very brave of you,” I say. “What you did for her.”
“I made a promise. I keep my promises. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that story out loud. Only Yara. Endless hours of therapy have taught me how to put those events into words, I guess.” He turns to me. “I would never cheat on anyone, Sloane. It’s not in my nature.”
“But you’re still married to her.”
“On paper, yeah.”
“Five years is enough time to get a green card, isn’t it?”
“She has it.”. The Trip To The Station
“So make me understand why you’re still married.”
The car slows at a turn, his foot gliding over the brake.
“I don’t know,” he says. “She said we had to stay married for a while. Just to be safe. And I didn’t see a reason to push it. I wasn’t planning on marrying anyone else.”
A dozen thoughts fly through my head, fast and intrusive. What if she doesn’t want a divorce at all? What if she wants to stay married? What if she’s not just being careful as she claims-but in love?
I can’t voice those thoughts. They’d sound stupid out loud. But they sit there, doing their job of making me doubtful.
I remain silent for the rest of the drive. So does Knox.
The precinct comes into view.
Just before we reach the parking lot, I ask quietly, “So you and her never… you know. Had a thing?”
Knox scoffs and looks at me.
“You’re always so cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” I mutter. “Unless there’s a reason I should be.”
He chuckles as he pulls into a parking spot and cuts the engine. “Come on,” he says. “When we go in, you can ask her yourself if we’ve had sex.”
The Wife
I frown as I unbuckle and step out. Honestly, I’d prefer staying in the car while he does whatever he needs to. I don’t like police stations. Never have. They make me feel like I’m being watched even when I’m doing absolutely nothing wrong. And thanks to Finn’s college adventures, I’ve been inside enough of them to last a lifetime.
Still, curiosity wins.
Inside, a tired officer sits behind the front desk.
Knox steps up. “I’m here to post bail for Soraya Hartely.”
The officer looks up. His eyes trail from Knox to me and back. He taps the keyboard.
“Relation to the defendant?” he asks.
“Husband.”
The officer lifts a brow. “Your wife’s last name?”
“Hartely, like I said.”
“Maiden name?”
Knox tenses. “Why’s that relevant?”
The officer leans back in his seat. “Standard questions. Paperwork’s in order. I’ll get your wife.”
Knox exhales.
I turn and walk to the row of chairs lined up against the wall. They’re molded plastic, the kind that curve in just the wrong places, the kind designed to remind you that you’re not here for comfort. I lower myself into one, crossing my legs and folding my arms, trying not to think about the fact that I’m in a police station with my boyfriend to bail out his wife.
Knox stays standing near the front, arms braced against the counter.
We wait.
It feels like forever.
Then, finally, a side door creaks open.
I lift my head.
She steps out slowly, escorted by an officer who says a few quiet words I don’t catch. And then she’s fully visible.
Curly black hair falls in thick waves down her back. Her skin is the color of warm honey, smooth and glowing under the harsh station lights. She’s in a plain top and jeans, but somehow even that looks runway-ready on her. And then she smiles -right at Knox.
It’s soft. Familiar. Her dimples pop. It’s like he just showed up with flowers and a bottle of wine instead of walking into a police station to bail her out.
And I realize-without even trying-she is easily one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.
“Oh, honey,” she says, rushing to him and throwing her arms around him.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.