“You’re the only one who doesn’t judge me based on what other people say.”
I roll my eyes. Of course I don’t. I know her better than they do.
She sits up, kneeling on the cushion; the high has made her serious. It’s made her so sad. So familiar.
Drew swallows hard. “I didn’t know.”
“I know.” I hate how much her voice shook when she said that. Like I wouldn’t believe her. I pull her back against me, tucking her under my arm.
I’m not a touchy-feely kind of person in general. Except with Mom. But there’s always been something about Drew.
When she’s upset, the drive to give her a hug or hold her hand or push her down and tickle her until she laughs takes over.
I can’t stand how many times I’ve seen her so sad.
Whoever this married asshole is who broke her heart…
My hand balls into a fist before I stretch out my fingers to push away the feeling. It’s hard though. I want to break his nose.
It’s worse that it’s some unknown target.
That I don’t have a face or a name to go with the story. Especially since Drew won’t talk about it. She’s said her peace.
But I have a fucking mountain of questions.
They shift like tectonic plates in my middle until Drew’s fingers find my necklace.
A skeleton key I found in an abandoned house.
There are plenty in the county, and I’ve explored nearly every one of them.
She twirls it back and forth between her fingers, and everything inside of me goes still.
Builds heat. Even though she’s just fidgeting, she’s fidgeting with me.
Those plates grind together, and the innocence of this exchange morphs into guilt and shame.
Am I the reason she trusted those men?
Because she can be like this with me and know I won’t treat her like she’s asking for more?
With how similar in age Franklin and I are, it’s hard not to blame myself.
I was sure for a long time that she blamed me, too.
Now, though, I think it might have been something else.
I’m not completely sure what. Pretty sure she’s not sure either.
I’m just happy she’s back.
That she’s somewhere I can watch out for her. Take care of her like I used to.
The key drops back to my chest when the front door opens, sending a cold gust of air through the living room.
Drew turns, her eyes wider as my brother walks in with a paper sack in his arm.
Recognition and a smart smile spreads over her features.
