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“I heard you guys fighting,” Bru said, and though he blinked, his voice didn’t waver. The dude was scared, for sure, but he wasn’t openly trying to let me see it. “You and Thatcher. I heard you fighting, and I called her. She walks the city to get air sometimes, the back roads, and wears a hoodie. Anyway, I called her with one of our burner phones, and she’s not coming back if she knows you’re here.” He shook his head. “She won’t. I know her.”
My mouth dried, air physically sucked out of the room, my chest. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t she?”
Bru eyed Thatch, and I noticed my friend put his hand on my shoulder. He was cautious, just like outside.
“Let him go, Dorian,” Thatch said. “Please.”
I did let him go, but I didn’t give Bru space. “You’re saying she’s hiding out.” I paused, my voice tight, thick. “You’re both hiding out, and she left because of me?”
“Nah, man. I’m not saying that.” Bru fixed his shirt. Dude was fucking swimming in it, and it had to be Thatcher’s. Bru tugged it down. “But I do know all of this is a lot for my fucking sister, so if she decided she needed a break, I was going to give her that. Be with her.”
A break…
My chest touched Bru’s, my hand raised slow. “You know how many people are suffering for that break?”
“Dorian—”
“Shut the fuck up, Thatch,” I shot, sneering at him. I’d deal with him fucking later. I jabbed a finger in Bru’s chest. “Your sister’s actions have consequences and have hurt some of the people I care about the most. People I’d fucking die for.”
“Well, I’d die for her,” he said, making me blink. He nodded. “And I’ve spent too much time in this town trying to please you and your friends instead of sticking up for my sister, and that’s something I’m not doing again.”
“You’re going to call her.” I bared my teeth. “You call her back and make her come back.”
“She won’t.” His arms moved over his chest. “She’ll know you told me to.”
Because apparently, she didn’t want to see me, and I didn’t care what he said about that earlier bullshit. She didn’t want to see me and ran right after my grandfather told her the truth. Sure, my grandpa had been lying to her too, but not like I had. He’d taken care of her, always.
And I hadn’t.
I’d lied to her, and who knew what she believed about the details of those lies. For all she knew, I could have been lying to her the whole time about her identity just like my grandpa. I mean, she knew at least Wolf knew. She found all that shit at his house, and if he knew about the details surrounding her identity…
That typically would mean I knew as well.
That thing was happening again. Where I couldn’t breathe and was fucking suffocating. Pulling out my phone, I left the room, and Thatcher was hot on my heels. He gripped my arm. “Dorian?”
I worked his hand off me, shooting a finger in his face. “How could you? Do this to me? Do this to Wolf!” I got him by his shirt again, scanning his eyes. “Why would you do this to us?”
My voice broke, my body heavy. I was shaking to fucking hell, but I wouldn’t let him go. The impulse to kill charged my veins, but the rage channeled to mostly myself. She might not have run at all if not for me.
“D.” Thatcher swallowed, his face red again. My buddy kept blinking, his hands cuffing my wrists. “I was afraid of what she’d do. That she’d skip town and then none of us would know where she was. She said she only needed a few days. Just some time to—”
“Time to what, Thatch? She’s been gone for well past that, and you fucking knew about it!”
I’d lost count of the days she’d been gone, more than a week but less than a month. Either way, it was more than a few fucking days.
Thatcher cringed. “I know.”
“How the hell did this happen?” I asked, and Thatcher laced his fingers over his head.
“She came to Bow for help.”
“Bow?” I stepped back, and Thatcher nodded.
“That first day she went missing,” he said, his shoulders sagging. “The day all of us were out real late at the Mallicks? Anyway, when I eventually came back home, I ran into her and Bru creeping outside my house. They were waiting for Bow. They wanted her help, but I saw them first before they could find her.”
What?
“Sloane said they both just needed a place to crash for a few days. She said she just needed some time,” Thatcher stated, my heart racing. He’d said that shit at the lunch table that day, that she’d needed time. His Adam’s apple flicked. “It was only supposed to be for a few days, and she said she just needed time to clear her head. I got them set up. Food and shit and put them up here.”
