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I blink at her, processing. “What does that have to do with Theo and Penelope?”
“I don’t know yet. Can you answer the question?”
My forehead wrinkles. “Jax is my twin. We’re close.” I shift forward, planting my elbows on the table. “Why?”
“Have you ever known Jaxon to be violent?”
My hackles rise. No. There’s no way I’m letting her go after him. “Why are you asking me about him? Shouldn’t you be interviewing him yourself?”
“Please answer the question.”
“No.” The word comes out sharp, final. “Jax isn’t violent. He’s never been violent.” A blatant lie, but I’m not painting a target on his back.
“He got into a lot of fights when you were younger, didn’t he? You three got picked up a few times by Antonio, isn’t that right?”
I dismiss her words with a wave of my hand. “We were teenagers. Hormones and all that, everyone fought.”
She studies me with those calculating eyes, like she’s trying to read my mind. “I need you to think carefully, Brax. Has your brother ever displayed concerning behavior? Fits of rage? Jealousy that seemed extreme?”
Okay. Now she’s pissing me off. “Jax didn’t do this.” I hold her gaze, unflinching.
She hums. “What about with Callie? Has he ever seemed possessive or—”
“Stop.” I hold up a hand, fury burning through my chest. “You are way off the mark.”
“Then help me. Who’s the right mark? Knox?”
I stare at her, jaw held tight. She’s baiting me. But she must have nothing if she’s fishing like this. “My brothers love Callie, but love doesn’t make you a criminal.”
She shrugs. “Sometimes it does.”
“Not this time. You’re wasting time questioning the wrong people while whoever actually did something is getting away with it.”
“Then give me a better path to follow.”
The challenge hangs in the air between us. She wants me to throw someone else under the bus, to point fingers and deflect suspicion away from my family. But I can’t do that because the truth is, I don’t know who else it could be. I don’t know what happened or who’s responsible.
I open my mouth, then close it again. Nothing comes out because I have nothing to give her. No leads, no suspects, no brilliant insights that will solve this mess and get us all home.
Her expression shifts, disappointment creeping across her features. “We need to check on a few more things before you can leave,” she says, standing and collecting her things. She taps the folder on the table. “It shouldn’t be much longer.”
The door closes behind her with a soft thud, leaving me alone. With a heavy exhale, I drop my head into my hands, fingers pressing into my scalp. This is spiraling out of control, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. They think Jax did it. Outside of denying him being violent, I don’t know what else to do to help them see he isn’t the suspect.
They don’t know him. They don’t know any of us, and we will get out of this. Even if we do have a motive, there’s no evidence. Nothing to pin the crimes on us without a reasonable doubt.
I cling to that as the white noise grows so loud I want to crawl out of my skin.
This fucking sucks.
Chapter Thirty-Five
KNOX
By the time Trina comes in to question me, I’ve worn a path in the cheap linoleum floor. The room smells like stale coffee and chemicals, and I can’t stop thinking about my brothers sitting in their own rooms. What they’re thinking. How the fuck we got here.
Trina watches me and I grab a seat as she strides around the table, dropping a manilla folder on top of it. Trina sits and nods at me. “Knox.”
“Trina.”
