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"No," he said. "No, the fuck she's not."
I snapped my head in his direction. "You don't make my choices for me."
"Fine, then go ahead and make your choice. But if you choose to spend the night at his house, I hope you know that that's all he's going to see you as. Just another one-night stand or someone to fuck with until he's grown tired of you."
"That's not true," Marshall interjected. "I care about Trisha and you know that."
"Do I? You said it yourself that the last person you thought was worth getting in a relationship with was because she was good in bed and knew a few tricks."
I turned to Marshall, pleading with him silently for those words not to be true. But the look on his face told me they were.
"You really expect me to believe you care about my sister? She's staying with me. You, leave. Now, before I call the cops."
Marshall looked at me like he expected me to follow as he walked out the door. But I remained where I was standing. Zane's face told me that he was satisfied that I wanted to stay with him, but that wasn't the truth.
I looked at him then at Marshall and began walking towards the door.
"Trisha, if you leave with him then you better fucking stay there until you go back to med school," Zane warned.
"You're not my father, Zane. Though," I scoffed, "you're sure as hell starting to look like him."
With that, I left with Marshall.
I didn't want to leave my brother, but no good would come of us staying in the same house tonight. He would probably go on and on about how bad Marshall was for me and I'd probably continue reminding him I could make my own decisions and didn't need to be looked after like a little child.
Marshall's place was nice and tidy when I got there. Something I didn't expect for someone that was as busy as he always was.
"You want a drink?" He asked when I got in.
Though I really wanted to say yes, I shook my head. Dealing with my addiction was one thing, but now that I had both of them to deal with...well, that was a challenge.
I sighed and took a seat on the couch in the living room.
I couldn't understand how I'd immediately believed the worst of my brother just because...I sighed again running my fingers through my hair.
"We shouldn't have thought the worst about him," I said when Marshall sat, pressing his cold glass of whiskey to his eye.
He nodded. "I should've let you call him that night."
How could I think he'd betray my trust like that? I knew my brother. I had known him since I came into this world and yet...when it came time to jump to conclusions, I didn't hesitate.
"We saw what we saw, Trish," Marshall said. "No one can blame us for assuming the worst."
I shook my head. "That's not true. We can blame ourselves." I put my face in my hands. "We should've known better."
He nodded. "We can't do anything about it right now. He's too angry because of what he just saw and you're too angry because of what he said. You both should just give each other some time."
I didn't respond.
He was right, like always. But, because he was right, Zane's words kept playing over in my head.
"Was it true?" I asked, I needed to hear it from him.
When he didn't respond, I turned my gaze to his face.
"Everything that Zane said, especially about Monica. Was it true?"
He sighed. "I might've said that she was—”
