The Darkest Part(28)

I’m sure a barrage of emotions passes over my face, but I try to rein in my feelings, not give anything away. It’s useless, of course. The one thing Tyler’s damn good at is reading people. Just like the asshole that calls himself our father, he has that talent—that thing that makes my dad a good lawyer, and Tyler a good future one.

“She told you,” I say. It’s not really a question. I can see Sam feeling guilty, admitting what happened. I doubt they’ve ever kept anything from each other. Well, except for the one thing Tyler and I swore never to tell a living soul.

Not even Sam knows that.

His chest puffs out with labored breaths. His face is strained, but I can see the pain etched behind the anger. And it makes me feel about as good as a piece of dog shit.

“I’m not stupid,” he says, still crowding my personal space. “She’s been distracted. Hiding paintings that she’s usually eager to show off. And every time you’re around, she gets all weird and quiet, and then yesterday”—he mock laughs—“I knew something was going on between you two. I just fucking knew it. And then I saw it.” He slams his fist down on the desk behind me.

I start, reacting to the threat, adrenaline coursing now, and physically have to force myself not to touch him. I won’t ever be like him. “So what . . . you followed me?” It’s disturbing, but I don’t know what’s worse. That he found out and let his rage build up until now, or that I was keeping it from him.

“Damn right,” he spits through clenched teeth. “What are you going to do? Keep her around to fuck on the weekends when you finally come back to visit? You’re only going to screw her over. Anything you do will end bad, then she’s going to be a mess, and I’ll have to be the one to deal with it. Because you sure as shit won’t.” He scoffs. “You don’t give a fuck about her.”

I’d have rather he punched me in the gut. Or the face. Or the balls. His words attack me from the inside, splintering my brain like rotten wood. I’ve been avoiding talking to him about my leaving because I knew he’d get upset. Guilt steals the edge from my words. “I will come back. And I do care about her.”

“Bullshit. Every word out of your mouth.” He drives a hand through his hair. “I care about her. I love her, and I have forever.”

“I know . . . but, Tyler, listen—”

“No,” he snaps. “I’m not buying this crap. Suddenly she gets tits and you give a damn.”

I forcefully step back and my thighs hit the desk. If he doesn’t get out of my face, I’m going to lose my temper. “Don’t say shit like that about her.”

He laughs. “Why? Because you know her so well and you’re all of a sudden respectful of the female populace?” He shakes his head, a disgusted look on his face. “Whatever. I knew this was going to happen.” He paces in a circle, and I glance at the window, suddenly worried about the time. We’re alone now, but Dad will be home soon. We need to end this.

“What do you want from me?” I step in front of him and hold my arms out wide. “I’m sorry this happened, but I do care about her. And she cares about me . . . just in a different way than she does for you.”

He punches me.

My head snaps sideways, and pain explodes across the side of my face. I can feel the trickle of blood dripping from my nose, down my chin. I lick my lips and taste the coppery warmth. But I don’t look at him. I keep my eyes on the floor, let the rage simmer.

When I look up, he’s holding his fist. I know it had to hurt him as badly as my face throbs.

Tyler shakes out his hand, and as his anger noticeably starts to fade, his brows pull together. I glimpse guilt washing over him, only for a moment, before he hardens his face back into a mask.

“I don’t owe you shit,” he says, his voice wobbly with adrenaline. “I didn’t ask you to do that for me, and I sure as hell don’t owe you Sam for it.”

Confusion makes me forget about the pain for a second, and I screw up my face and wince. But then, with perfect clarity, his words strike home. Hurt barbs my chest, sinking its teeth in deep. “Hell, Tyler. If I hadn’t have stepped in when I did, Dad would’ve killed you.” And after what Tyler had just suffered, I wasn’t going to watch my brother get beaten to death, or self-destruct. Again. I’d just picked up the broken pieces.

It’s why Dad sent me away to boarding school. After I stood up to him and laid him out on the kitchen floor, his ego couldn’t handle that I wasn’t a kid he could knock around anymore. The only thing I regretted was leaving Tyler alone with the asshole for months.