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I didn’t, because unlike what he thinks, I have more control over myself than he does.
Elliot leans with his thigh against the edge of my desk, facing me closer than I’d like him to. He knows that. That I hate people in my personal space, and still, he does it just to get me on edge.
I pull away, rolling my chair back and tilting my head up to look at him. I don’t need to stand up, shouldn’t let him think I feel intimidated and need to level myself with him. Even when I was skinny, I was tall, lanky, but no one is as fucking tall as Ethan. Standing up would only highlight that.
My brother smiles down at me, glancing at the black marker pen I’m tapping against the desk. I stop right away, knowing that’s what’s betraying my nerves.
Too late. His smile is wider when his gaze crosses mine this time.
“Why did you follow Jade to her race?” he asks with a lightness that could fool me into thinking he asked me what I wanted for dinner.
“I didn’t hit her with my car, Elliot. I don’t know why she thinks that.”
The walls are thin. I heard her accuse me of being the one to attempt to kill her. She said it twice, so sure of herself. Jade and I have had our differences in the past, but I would never hurt her. Not like that.
“I know that,” he replies with ease.
“I’m sure you’ve done your homework.”
“You own a fucking Ford Ranger. She wouldn’t have survived that. There are no marks of any hit on your truck, I checked. Plus, what would you have done? Hit her, go park down the road, and run back inside the house? Let’s try to keep making sense here, shall we?”
I open my mouth to talk, but he puts a finger in the air. “But of course, let’s not forget the main point. You would never hurt Jade.” He shrugs. “I didn’t ask if you tried to kill her, Ethan. I asked why you followed her to her race all the way to the South Bank when you know that’s not something you’re allowed to do.”
My jaw tightens. I could break my teeth every time he tells me what I can and can’t do. It’s exhausting to live with a man who calculates every single move he’s ever going to make.
Elliot is always five moves ahead, no wonder I’m fucking crazy after having grown up with him.
“Shouldn’t you worry about who’s trying to kill your girlfriend, rather than why I keep an eye on her?”
He pauses, looking away and smiling like a fool. “My girlfriend.” He experiments with the words on his lips before licking them, seemingly loving the taste. “I like that. Is that how you felt whenyougot to say that? All warm and fuzzy.”
I could grab the gun in my drawer, kill him, cut his body in pieces, burn them to ashes, and throw them in a dumpster…It still wouldn’t help with how much I loathe him right now.
“Don’t.” I try to say it coolly, try to take a page out of his book and go for the casual front. It never seems to work on me. “Don’t mention my past with her. Just enjoy your prize and leave me alone.”
“Yeah, I’m trying to.” Something changes in his voice. It’s dishonestly relaxed, but it now gives the impression of a still lake with monsters hiding underneath the surface. “I’m trying to, but it seems my brother keeps forgettingmygirl isn’t his anymore. Following her around like a lost puppy and shit.”
I look at the sheet on my desk. Music notes in black marker. Messy, the ink so deep in some parts that it’s torn through the paper. That’s the music Jade makes when my brother makes her come.
It’s desperate, like“Comptine D’un Autre Été”by Yann Tiersen. She kept wanting more and more. I could hear it in her moans, just short of obtaining exactly what she wanted and begging for him to give her everything she needed. And he did.
A beautiful melody. One I should have made her sing myself.
I uncap the marker and write some more. “I get your point, Elliot. You can leave.” I try not to make it sound dejected, but how else am I meant to feel when the woman who had always been mine is only a distant dream now?
A hand lands on my sheet firmly. “I want you to answer my question. What were you doing at the race?”
Slowly, feeling the violence inside me wanting to spill out, I tilt my head and look up.
“Do you know the kind of things men say to Jade?” I feel my upper lip curl as I think of that rich boy and the offer he made her. “Do you know the way they look at her?”
“Yes, Ethan,” he says lazily. “I was the one fucking her when people started opening their eyes and realizing how beautiful she is. I know how much men desire her.”
“Then why don’t you do anything about it?” I snap. The marker tears through the page, slipping on my desk, and practically ripping the paper in half.
His eyes focus on my hand, the line I just drew on my desk, and my white knuckles around the pen.
“If you want her so much, why don’t you make sure no one ever talks or looks at her the way that man at the race did.” My words barely make it past my gritted teeth.
