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Trust me, I see that.
“Fuck that.” Dylan’s shoes appear in my line of sight. “Look at me,” he snaps.
Sighing, I lift my eyes to his.
There it is. That look. That disdain. That hatred I know too well, because that’s exactly how I feel about myself.
“She’s ours, Brady. You can’t stop us.”
“I know.” I couldn’t even if I tried, now that they’ve discovered her scent.
“And you won’t touch her, won’t even fucking look at her, until she says it’s okay. Understood?”
“We can’t?—”
“Don’t,” Austin snaps. “We’re done listening to you.”
They hook their arms under mine and haul me up, dragging me up the stairs as I try to find a way to reason with them. Try to find a way to get them to see that this will eventually tear us apart. But they don’t listen to me.
Why should they?
I told them to leave her alone.
But I couldn’t.
Austin pushes my door open and the three of us stumble to a stop. Crumpled on my bed is evidence of how much I’ve fucked up. Blankets and pillows coated in her slick. My cum. Her cum. Our scents. My rut. My shame. My fuckup.
Dylan’s grip turns bruising, but I welcome the pain. Anything is better than the agony of not having her.
“Go,” Austin tells him.
“How could you?” Dylan growls before ripping his hand from my arm. “You’re fucked in the head, Brady.”
I pinch my eyes shut as he stomps away. Austin stays, holding me up. I don’t know why. Kindness isn’t something I deserve. He pulls me toward my bed, eyeing the bundle of blankets.
She destroyed her nest.
Fuck.
Austin hovers near me until I glance away from the blankets and meet his gaze. “I know why you did it, but that doesn’t make it okay.”
“Mom asked me to protect you,” I say, eyes watering.
Pathetic.
A hard sigh fills the space between us. “That night, Brady. She asked you to get us out of the car, not kill yourself for the rest of your life trying to keep us safe.”
“You don’t understand. It’s not that simple. You didn’t see the way her eyes shimmered the moment she knew she wouldn’t get out. You didn’t see the desperation, the way she entrusted me with you guys. She asked me one thing, and I failed.”
And I hate that she’d be disappointed.
As smoke and ash fill my lungs, I fight the vision. I can’t see her now. I can’t hear myself make that promise after I’ve broken it.
“Fuck, Brady. You need to talk to someone. This isn’t healthy.” He places a hand on my shoulder. “You’re carrying too much, and it’s about to make you lose the one thing that would make you happy.”
“I’m happy,” I argue.
“No.” He sighs and squeezes me. “You’re not. You’re really not.”
