Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
He reaches behind his head, pulling off his shirt, and I know he’s going to lift me up. He’s going to lift me into his arms and look into my eyes and not look away.
But he doesn’t do any of that. He slips the shirt over my head, covering me.
Then he looks at his brother. “You know she’s not her, right?” he asks him, a stern look in his eyes. “You do realize that?”
I glance back at Army and then up at Macon again.
Her? Who are they talking about?
14
Army
I square my shoulders, every muscle in my body going so tight they burn. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I bare my teeth, seething as I walk around the island, glaring at Macon.
But he just looks away, saying nothing more. Stepping around Krisjen, he heads for the door to the garage, but I shove all the shit off the corner of the island, sending it crashing to the floor.
“You’re not leaving,” I growl. “Goddamn you.”
He turns his head, looking at all the dishes and food on the tile.
“You’re not leaving!” I yell. “Not anymore. I always make sure you never have to deal with me, but you’re not running off into your garage this time.”
He continues for the door. “Clean it up.”
A sob lodges in my throat, and I don’t know why my fucking eyes are burning. I’m not sad. I want to kill him. Goddammit. I grab the kitchen table in both hands and flip it over, everything toppling to the floor as the table crashes to its side. Krisjen backs up toward the sink, and I barely notice Macon pulling her back as he launches forward, getting in my face again.
But I’m way ahead of him. “You bring her into this?” I glare at Macon. “Fuck you! Fuck! I have been the only one by your side, protected you like a goddamn brick wall, so they never know how weak you really are! I’ve always been your brother! And you treat me like I fucking work for you.”
“You do.”
I rear my arm back and punch him, my fist exploding as it crashes against his jaw. Pain shoots from my knuckles, down the back of my hand, but I clench my teeth to hide the pain.
His head twists to the side, and he stands there for a couple of seconds before he faces me again. I get in his space, refusing to back down anymore as I meet him eye to eye. “I am just as strong as you are,” I say in a low voice, Krisjen not making a sound behind him. “I’ve been quiet, I’ve swallowed the shit because you’re the oldest and I respected you for having the strength to make all the decisions I never wanted to make and do the dirty shit I didn’t want to do when we were kids, but that doesn’t make you a man.”
“Neither does making babies you can’t support.”
I search his eyes. Brown, like our mother’s. Like the person behind them is two hundred feet under the water. Just like hers looked.
Tears well. “Do you love me at all?” I ask him. “Do you love us? Do you feel anything for Liv or Trace or anyone?”
How could he say that to me? He knows I loved her. He knows that my son will be hurt when he realizes his mother left him. He knows what I’m going to face. That I don’t deserve this.
But his only response is “You don’t have to live here.”
“Macon …” I hear Trace say behind me. I didn’t hear him come back in. Macon walks around me, into the living room.
But I follow. “No one lives here, Macon,” I spit back, his spine tensing. “No one really wants to be here.”
“Army, don’t,” Krisjen says.
I turn to where she’s standing in the kitchen. Looking so sad with those blue eyes. Blue just like Dex’s. Blue just like hers. “You want to go for a ride?” I ask.
I need to get out of here.
But Macon moves, and I look to see him snap his gaze to Krisjen. His jaw is still flexed—still tight—but for a split second I catch it. He lingers on her too long. He’s paying attention to her. Why?
I look at her and then back to him. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, and then shake my head. “How many times did you tell us to stay away from them? And now you want one. You want her.”
“I don’t want her,” he fires back. “I just don’t want to have to feed another one of your kids.”
You son of a bitch.
Everything feels like it’s bubbling over. I don’t know what I’ll do if Macon tries to leave, or what I’ll do if he doesn’t.
But then my phone rings, and I reach into my pocket, pulling it out and answering it.