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“No. Just when I feel like I need to.”
His eyes twitch. “Random people.”
“No, mostly predators I find online,” I reply.
He frowns. “How long has this been going on?”
“Years.”
God, it feels like I’m opening a very old wound.
“Why?”
I draw in a breath, unable to look him in the eyes. “Because … it hurt to watch you suffer. To see Mother in your bed.”
His whole body tightens when I mention her, and it unravels my heart.
“I keep seeing it over and over while I sleep, every nightmare waking me up to the point where I just want to kill people who try to do the same to others.”
He just stares at me for a good few seconds, the look on his face anything but pleased.
I may have said too much.
But my God, the burden on my shoulders finally feels a little less heavy.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I’m sorry I can’t be the sister you think I am. I’m not perfect. I date the wrong people. I’m a murderous girl. I—”
Suddenly, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a hug so tight I can’t even breathe.
“Don’t ever apologize,” he says, shaking me to my core.
“What? But I’m a—”
“Killer?” He snorts. “Yeah, it runs in the family.”
“But—”
“No. I am not ashamed of you.” He pulls away and grabs my shoulders. “Do you hear me? You’re my little sister, and I love you. That’s the last time you’ll ever hear me say those words, so remember them.”
I smile and wrap my arms right back around his body. “Thank you. And thank you for coming to save me.”
His hand caresses my back, and it’s the first time in ages that I don’t feel like I want to push him away.
“You’re the reason I’m here today,” he says, his voice soft, unlike his usual self. “If you hadn’t screamed when you saw our mother …” His voice is hampered by his emotions. “I wouldn’t be alive without you.” I shudder against him, and he takes in a big breath. “I’m the only one who should be saying thank you.”
Our hug is so deep and warm it feels like both of us are pouring out all our feelings into each other.
“I was so goddamn worried about you,” he grumbles. “When those fuckers told me you’d been taken by that Bones Brotherhood, I nearly snapped their necks.”
“It’s not their fault,” I say.
“They should’ve kept you safe,” he growls. “I will never allow them to get—”
I push myself away from him. “Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence. Please.”
The muscles in his jaw tense up. “Those bastards took that photo of you.”
“And I let them,” I reply. “Don’t blame them for my own struggles, please. They didn’t share it.”
