Page 141 of Trailer Trash

“Don’t.” His tone is a warning.

I sigh heavily and ask anyway.

“Did your brother die?”

Killian doesn’t speak. I can feel the question slice through him. I know it. I went too far.

Slowly, I look up.

Killian’s left, the door to the stairwell shutting softly behind him.

“East stairwell,” the security guard says into his radio. “Mr. Easton is coming down.”

I rush after Killian, but stop myself.

Instead, my knees hinge and I fold onto the floor, sobbing into my hands.

Because I feel sorry for the monster who just hurt me in the worst way.

I want to go save him when I’m the one he left in pieces.

38

Killian

I swipe my car keys off the counter and blow past Mom, who fails to hold me back.

“Where are you going? Did your father tell you?”

I turn. Blink. My hand grips the front door handle, the brass cold under my palm.

“Tell me what?”

She draws in a breath. “Never mind. You look upset. Are you leaving-leaving?”

I don’t have time for this shit.

I stalk toward her and stand close. I lace my fingers around her neck, enough to ignite fear, not hurt her.

“Tell me what?” I repeat, slower.

Her chin quivers. It isn’t the first time she’s pushed me to the edge.

In a soft tone, she answers.

“About Harlow. Dad wants her back at the hospital. He thinks you’re unwell and—”

I laugh mockingly. “You guys are taking her away from me like I’m grounded?”

“No! Not me. Honey, we know you’re texting him. We’re worried.”

I sneer, my upper lip curling in disgust. Mom never disconnected Asher’s number. Five years later, his name still appears on the family phone bill. She couldn’t let the number die, either.

“I’m fine,” I reply.

Harlow appears, her expression horrified. The security officer stands behind her, one hand moving toward his Taser.

“Touch it and I crush her throat,” I warn.