“It’s not a game.” A tear falls as my breath strangles on trapped air. His words reach inside me, fist my ribs, clench my heart, and coil my vital piecesinto abstract art. “Nothing’s happened,” I whisper, my defenses shutting down, regret soaring to the surface. “I swear.”
“Not yet. But you’re halfway there. And if you don’t kick that asshole to the curb, you’re going to hate yourself for what comes next.” He swallows. “Leave him, sis. He’s not your person anymore, he’s your prison. Start over. Clean slate.”
“I…I can’t.”
“Why the fuck not? Spell it out for me. Help me understand, because I—”
“Because I almost killed him!” I shoot back, breaking under the truth. “I broke him, Tag. The accident. He’s never been the same. And that’s my fault.”
He gapes at me, frowning. “No. No way. Don’t do that. Don’t rewrite history just to make him easier to forgive.” His voice is low but cutting. “He was always angry. Always controlling. That didn’t start with the accident.”
“You don’t understand what he was like before—”
“Of course I do. You think I didn’t notice how he isolated you?” His jaw clenches. “Tell me how many friends you have. Tell me how many he’s driven away. Kenna is only still here because she refused to leave you. And look at Mom and Dad. Think about all the times they’ve tried to visit, but Alex always has plans. Funny how that happens.”
I flinch, my head swinging back and forth with denial. “No…”
“You used to light up a room. Then he got inside your head and flipped the breaker,” Tag goes on, voice tight. “He didn’t change. You just stopped pretending it didn’t scare you.”
His words rattle me to the bone.
But Tag is wrong.
He has to be, or else everything I ever told myself starts to unravel.
It was just a bad day.
He didn’t mean it.
It’s my fault.
He’s hurting too.
And if it unravels, what’s left?
Just me, holding a thread I don’t know how to let go of.
I look away, down at the floor. “I have it under control.”
Tag blows out a breath, pinches the bridge of his nose.
We both know it’s a lie.
My control is out the window, gone with the stuffy, oppressive wind. If Chase had kissed me tonight, I would have let him.
And my brother is right.
It would have destroyed me.
He sighs long and hard, the temper melting away. In its place, only brotherly love. “Listen. Please know that I want you in this band more than fucking anything. But if playing with us—if playing withhim—is going to steal a piece of your soul, it’s not worth it. Not at all.”
My bottom lip quivers. I chomp down on it, Tag’s image blurring through the tears. “I want this,” I force out, emotion bending my words. “So much.”
“I know you do.” He pivots, leaning back on the counter and staring down at the crud-stained grout. “But what’s your endgame here?”
“Wherever this leads.”
“Are you sure?” He sends me another sidelong glance. “Because we both know where it’s headed.”
