His hand threads through my hair, the other wrapped firmly around my waist as I bury my face into the side of his neck, weeping. I can’t stop crying because being in the safety of my brother's arms right now is honestly everything I need.
I have wanted to tell Keaton about what happened to me for a while now, but he’s irrational and…Wait, what the fuck is he doing here?
“Keats, why are you here?” I ask quietly into the inked skin of his neck.
His arm flexes around me. “You’re going to have to start talking first, sis.”
I swallow and whisper, “I’m with Harlen.” I feel his head move, probably gazing over me protectively, warning the man at my back silently that if his baby sister is crying because of him, he has every intention to end him. “And no, he didn’t hurt me,” I finish before he does something fucking crazy.
I slide out of Keaton’s arms, and when I look up at him, his hair cut close to his scalp, I find his eyes are still locked above me. I spin around and see Harlen watching him.
Everyone is watching Keats, actually.
“Keaton is my older brother,” I announce, and I don’t wait for their reactions before I’m turning back around, finding Keaton’s blue eyes still above me. I slide my hand into his, feeling the splits and cuts at his knuckles beneath my fingertips. “Fuck,what did you–” He cuts me off by slipping his hand away and wrenching me into his broad, tight chest.
“I’m good, don’t worry about me,” he murmurs, placing a kiss to the top of my head.
My chin finds a place on his muscled chest, and I flick my eyes up to Keaton’s. “He saved me, Keats. I would be dead if it wasn’t for him.” Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, my lungs flinch. “They all did. Don’t do anything stupid. Please.”
A few moments pass before Keaton severs the tense rope between him and Harlen, dropping his hard gaze down to mine and curling a piece of my cherry hair behind my ear.
“Tell me everything.”
It’s not a question.
It’s a demand.
So, we all take a seat around the table, and I tell him…everything.
Every.
Painful.
Detail.
I relive it all.
And when every last word has left my soul for the final time, because I know that this is the last time I will ever speak of my story…he breaks.
It’s the scariest thing I have ever seen.
Harlen pulls me into him as Keaton loses his mind.
His fist crunches against the wall at my back, his tattooed palms slamming open against the timber as he hangs his head between his shoulders in defeat, breathing rapidly. I’m truly worried that his heart is going to stop.
I can hear him repeating the same words over and over and over again. “I was supposed to protect you.”
When Keaton finds his breath, he moves toward me, crouching down in front of my legs and placing his bloodiedhands on my knees. I wince at the sight. Harlen falls away from me, back into his seat, giving us the space we need.
“We will find out who did–”
My hand curls over Keaton’s left, my face draining of all color as I lean forward and croak out around the solid lump in my throat. “We already know.”
His eyes cut to Harlen’s, and I follow the movement. Harlen pushes forward in his seat, resting his elbows over his knees as he nods. I can see his fingers trembling with rage.
“Start talking, son,” Rusty says from across the table.
Harlen exhales sharply, then flicks his eyes to his father. “Manic.”
