She stiffened, and Tripp sucked in a sharp breath.
Her gaze snapped to Tripp, her heart thudding.The look on Tripp’s face as he glared at Earl scared her.Anger and pain and regret.But he wasn’t defending himself.“What does he mean?”she demanded, trying to calm her racing heart.
“Ask him,” Earl repeated.
Tripp’s nostrils flared.She’d never seen that look on his face and never wanted to again.“Jesus Christ, Earl,” he snapped.
“Tell her the truth about her brother,” Earl fired back.
Everything funneled out around her at the mention of Peyton.Cold spread through her gut, an awful warning as she stared at Tripp.“What does he mean about Peyton?”
He met her gaze, and the guilt and regret there sucked the air out of her lungs.
“Either you tell her, or I will,” Earl said.
“We’re leaving,” Tripp said, the scars standing out white against his flushed face as he took hold of her arm to drag her with him.
“It’s not right and you know it,” Earl said.“It should never have gone this far.”
Something snapped inside her.She twisted away from Tripp and turned to confront him, angry that he might be hiding something about Peyton.“What happened to my brother, Tripp?”
The look in his eyes gutted her.A raw devastation that made her insides congeal.“Not here.”
“Yes, right here and now.Tell me,” she demanded, her voice unsteady.He’d lied to her.Kept something important from her about Peyton, and she had an awful feeling what it was.
He swallowed.Shook his head tightly.“Let’s go home and?—”
“He ordered the strike that killed Peyton,” Earl said.
FORTY-THREE
T
he words were like a bomb in her head.In her chest.
Willow hitched in a breath, the blood rushing out of her face.No.
