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God, how long was I asleep?
"What you don’t understand," Asher says softly as he sits on the coffee table in front of me, placing his hands on my knees. "Is that if you’d have brought that sort of attention to the Kensingtons, and, well… some things in life are worse than death. I know you’ve known struggle, but having someone like Chase actively working against you to put you down and keep you down? Add the Becketts to that? That is a grave you’ll lie in—alive—and slowly suffocate. We couldn’t let that happen to you."
I chew on the inside of my cheek, musing through his words. It still doesn’t make any sense to me. The truth always wins out, right? That’s the whole point of the justice system.
When I say as much, Sawyer laughs and comes to join us. "One thing I’ve learned from my dad is that justice is a lie. The people who win court cases are the people with the best story. The truth doesn’t mean shit. The best liars always win. That is the truth of the real world."
I cradle my head in my hands, pulling at my messy hair. "This is all freaking nuts."
"It is, but we did what we thought was best to protect you. Cole dug that grave shoulder to shoulder with us, to protect you. Do you really think he’d have done that if he didn’t feel something for you? We could have called in his dad’s people, but he didn’t want to give Theo more to hold over you. Chase already seems to have plenty with your mom." Asher’s reasoning makes sense, but it still doesn’t sit right.
None of this sits right, and my brain just can’t make sense of it.
Like the fact that up to this point, I’ve felt absolutely nothing about the fact that I murdered a man last night. Even if it was in self-defense. It's like the part of my brain that deals with that is completely shut down. I should feel fear, guilt… something. But all I have is anger. Anger that they lied to me about the engagement.
It’s as if focusing on that is the flimsy lock keeping everything else hidden in a box beneath the surface.
"We’ve got you, Briar," Sawyer says as he sits beside me and tucks me under his arm. "We’re not going to let anything hurt you. And that means Crawford, our families, or hell, even yourself. You just need to trust us."
I huff out a glimpse of a laugh. Yeah, because trust is just that easy.
* * *
After getting nowhere with Travis and Cole, the twins and I retreated to Asher's room with the puppies, though Fi and Hellion stayed with the other two.
One day I’ll win them over.
Maybe.
We’ve been bingingSupernaturalin bed all morning after showering again with me as the filling in this twin sandwich. I will never complain about them indulging that particular love of mine. We’ve all drifted in and out of sleep throughout the morning, but now they’re both asleep and my bladder is making me squirm as I try to find a way to wiggle out from between them and the puppy pile at the end of the bed without waking everyone.
"You okay, Sunshine?" Sawyer whispers sleepily, bringing his hand up to my cheek and stroking it before brushing my hair out of my face.
"I’m good, just need the bathroom."
He smiles at me, his eyes still half closed, and wraps his arms around me before rolling onto his back, pulling me over him as he does. I press my lips together so as not to laugh too loudly and wake Asher. "There you go, problem solved."
I shake my head and laugh as I stand before dashing into the bathroom. Once I’ve sorted myself out, I stare at my pale reflection in the mirror. The dark bags under my eyes make me look haunted, but the purple staining my throat steals the show.
I guess turtlenecks are all I see in my near future.
The twins already talked me through how we have to pretend like everything’s normal, which it seems is fine with me, because I’ve somehow detached myself from everything that happened last night.
It’s beyond messed up, but it’s like it happened to someone else.
I don’tfeelanything about it, despite knowing I should. Ishouldbe afraid we’re going to get caught, Ishouldfeel guilty about what I did, Ishouldbe confused aboutwhyhe attacked me, but I can’t even bring myself to think about the why.
It’s like my brain finally broke and decided we’re a fullnopeabout everything that happened.
Unhealthy? Most definitely, but if I have to act like nothing happened, then I’m not going to question my insane detachment since it’s going to help me. I’m not foolish enough to think it won’t catch up to me at some point, I’m just hoping that by then, we’re past the point of getting caught.
I splash my face with water and pull my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head with the elastic from my wrist.
I can do this.
I glance at the bruising again, feeling shame filter through me. The last time I had bruises like this…
Nope, not going down that rabbit hole.
