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Killian
Irolled, stumbling my ass out of bed as the world fucking spun, and rushed for the bathroom. Curling over the toilet, I threw up until I was fucking dry heaving. A dull ache pounded against my temple as I rested my head on the cold porcelain. My throat burned, my mouth felt stupidly dry, and my body fucking vibrated with pain.
Fucking alcohol.
I wanted to say I’d never drink again, but we all knew that was a fucking lie. The best cure for a fucking hangover was more goddamn beer. I just had to drag my ass out of the fucking house to do it.
As I rinsed out my mouth and ran my fingers through my hair, I tried to piece together what I could. Shit was fucking hazy—I’d drank an unreasonable amount. And I intended to keep drinking an unreasonable amount.
I remembered drinking at some dingy fucking bar in the middle of nowhere. I couldn’t remember getting to Iron Falls. The drive was a total blackout. A twinge of guilt nagged at my core. Hopefully, I hadn’t fucking hit someone. Checking my Jeep needed to be a goddamn priority.
I remembered Declan… somehow. I frowned, drumming my fingers along the sink. Wasn’t really sure how. Had I seen him? Called him? Texted? Fuck. I couldn’t remember.
I remembered shooting Ethel instead of myself. Fuck, I couldn’t even kill myself right. I shot the damn deer instead.
I vaguely remembered fighting with Roan as well as Brady’s promise to get me help. Considering I was still in his house, I had to assume Brady wasn’t throwing my ass in the hospital. Thank fuck. I just had to get the fuck out and… what? And do what?
I stared hard at my reflection in the mirror. I vaguely recognized the man that stared back—I’d spent a fucking year being that man. I didn’t want to be that man, but fuck he had it easy. Drowning the world in alcohol was easier than dealing with it.
Sluggish and tired, I made my way to the kitchen. Only I made it as far as the fucking living room to pass thru. My entire fucking family was gathered in the living room. And David. Fuck David. He’d probably told them all that he was my doctor.
Mom stood up the minute she saw me, but none of my brothers moved. Jesus fuck, Brady had called my mom. Goddamn asshole should’ve just tossed my ass in the hospital. Would’ve been easier.
“Oh, look,” I grumbled as I passed right by them for the kitchen. “A fucking intervention.”
“Language,” Mom said.
“Then fucking leave,” I retorted. “No one asked you to be here.”
“Brady asked us—”
“Yeah, well I didn’t, so you can fucking leave,” I interrupted. The kitchen lacked alcohol. It certainly had a handful of empty fucking bottles that I had a feeling were Mom’s doing, but nothing to take the fucking edge off. I settled for water because my mouth was dry as shit, and I needed something. “All of you can fucking leave.”
“Killian—”
“I don’t fucking want you here!” I shouted.
“Well, too bad!” Declan yelled right back, getting to his feet. “You don’t get a choice in the matter. You either talk to us or I’m dragging your ass to the hospital myself.”
“High and fucking mighty Declan,” I taunted. God, I fucking hated how good he was. His standards were fucking unattainable. “Why don’t you go deal with your own shit and leave me to mine?”
“Boys!” Mom snapped.
“Oh, fuck off,” I growled. “You can leave. I don’t want any of you here! I didn’t call you! I didn’t ask—”
“No, you just had me on the fucking phone when you tried to kill yourself,” Declan interrupted. Did I call him? Fuck, I couldn’t remember. That would’ve been a good fucking detail to know. I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Or were you too drunk to remember that?”
“Go fuck yourself, Declan—”
“Shut up, Killian,” Sam cut me off. “We’re here. Like it or not, we’re not going anywhere until we all fucking talk.”
“I don’t want to talk!” I exploded. “Why does everyone keep saying I need to fucking talk?”
“Because you’re drowning!” Mom yelled. I couldn’t look at her. The sadness in her face was fucking heartbreaking. That shit was my fault. “You’re drowning, Killian. Again. And I can’t just sit by and let it happen.”
“Then pretend you don’t fucking know,” I told her with a shrug. “I don’t fucking care. Go home and let me do what I’m going to do. No one fucking cares.”
“We care,” she replied. “We care. What do we have to do to make you see that?”
