SWNOVELS Cruel Prince: Chapter 41
Past…
Ihave to tell him the truth.
The longer I wait, the worse it will get.
The more he’ll end up hating me.
Cracking my knuckles, I inhale a breath.
I need to get the fuck out of this closet and get it over with. Rip the sucker off like a Band-Aid so we can deal with it and move on.
Mind made up; I turn the knob and walk out.
Dylan said he was hanging out with Heather so maybe he…
Nope. Not a chance.
Liam’s been in love with Dylan since the second he laid eyes on her.
I swear it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. He was a heartbeat away from turning into a cartoon with little birdies circling his damn head.
I didn’t give a shit at the time, Dylan was my best friend and I still thought most girls were annoying and had cooties.
But then the same bug that bit him, turned around and unleashed its venom into my veins.
From that moment, everything changed.
Dylan Taylor was no longer meant to be my best friend…she was meant to be my everything.
Problem was, Liam had already staked his claim.
Didn’t matter that she was technically mine first.
I figured he’d get over his crush and move on, but he never did. If anything, his feelings for her continued to grow.
Right along with mine.
I tried to tell him so many times, but I couldn’t get the words out.
Maybe if Liam was an asshole like Cole—or me, for that matter—it would have been easier.
But he’s not. He’s sensitive and compassionate. The kind of person who would give you the shirt right off his back if you needed it.
Life had already handed him a shit deal between his stuttering caused by anxiety from being in the crash that killed our mom, some facial scars from the accident, and the bouts of depression he tries to hide from everyone.
Just like our mother.
But every time he saw Dylan, he said it was like the sun was finally shining on him.
As his brother and friend, I refused to be the one to tear that away.
No matter how much I wanted her, I couldn’t do that to him.
For years, I ignored my feelings and pretended they didn’t exist.
Until the day she dared me to kiss her.
It confirmed my greatest desire and my worst fear.
She had feelings for me too.
I just hope like hell Liam will understand, because this thing between us…it’s too powerful to ignore.
I sense the shift the moment I walk back into the gymnasium. Something’s off.
People are looking, some of them are whispering…others are laughing.
And there’s no sign of Liam.
I catch Cole in my peripheral vision and grab him. “Where’s Liam?”
He shrugs. “What do I look like, his keeper?”
No, but as the oldest, I am. And right now, there’s a brick in my gut the size of Texas.
“Cole,” I grit through my teeth.
“He ran home crying like a little bitch.”
“Why?”
A hint of sympathy flashes in his eyes. “I’m not sure. Tommy and Liam left the gym for a few minutes. When they came back, Liam was crying and Tommy was grinning like a cat who ate a goldfish.”
“Shit.”
“It gets worse.” He winces. “Tommy started pointing and laughing at him. Calling him a prissy fag. Pretty soon everyone else joined in.” He averts his gaze. “Liam tried defending himself, but he was so upset he—”
“Got stuck on the first word.”
He snorts. “More like the first letter. It was pretty brutal, even I felt bad for him.”
Not bad enough to step in and do anything about it.
But I don’t have time to worry about Cole and Liam’s lousy relationship. I have more important shit to take care of.
Rage lights me up like an inferno and I scan the gym for Tommy. “Where the hell is he?”
I’m gonna shove my fist down his throat and rip out his goddamn tongue so he can never talk shit about Liam again.
“Not sure. I saw him leave a few minutes after Liam did.”
I check my watch. “Dad won’t be here for another half hour.”
If he gets here, that is. Most of the time he’s still working at his office and it’s easier to walk the twenty minutes to our house rather than wait for him to remember his kids.
“I’m gonna walk home.”
Cole nods. “Have fun. I’m gonna find Hay—”
I grip his jacket. “The fuck you are.”
Annoyance twists his features. “This isn’t my problem. Why do I have to—”
“Because you’re his brother, too.” I shove him. “Start acting like one, prick.”
“Fine. Whatever.” He looks over at Hayley and sighs. “Let’s go.”
We make it home in fifteen.
Bianca’s parked on the sofa painting her nails. Given I see no signs of Mrs. Garcia—the babysitter my dad hires on the rare occasions me and my brothers aren’t around—I assume Liam is home.
“Liam is so mad at you,” Bianca says when she spots us.
Cole and I exchange a glance.
“It’s not my fault he ran out of the dance crying,” Cole says with a scowl. “Blame Tommy DaSilva.”
Considering Cole didn’t defend him tonight, Liam has a right to be pissed at him.
“Not you.” She looks at me. “You.”
“Me?” That doesn’t make any sense. “Did he say why?”
She thinks about this for a moment before replying, “Nope.” Smirking, she looks up at the ceiling. “But he did ask me where the bat was.”
As if on cue, there’s a loud crash upstairs.
Cole whistles. “I’m gonna take a guess and say you pointed him in the right direction.”
Bianca blows on her nails. “Duh.”
“Thanks a lot.”
I take the stairs two at a time.
Cole follows behind me. “What did you do?”
“I have no idea.”
“I’ve never seen him so mad before,” Bianca whisper-shouts.
Cole and I turn around. “Go downstairs.”
Pouting, she slinks down the staircase. “I hope Liam takes a bat to your balls.”
Great. Another sibling I’ve managed to tick off tonight.
Glass shattering assaults my ears as I open my bedroom door.
My stomach falls when I see my broken computer screen. “What the hell are you doing?”
Bat in hand, those angry green eyes swivel to me. “T-t-taking s-s-something you l-l-love aw-w-way.” He swings again, attacking the tower this time. “Maybe n-n-now you’ll k-k-know w-w-what it f-f-feels lik-k-ke.”
Jesus Christ. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t take anything away from—”
“Dylan,” he seethes, moving on to my Xbox. Various pieces of plastic and metal fly across the room. “I s-s-saw you two k-k-k-kissing in t-t-the c-c-c-loset.”
Shit. How do I even begin to explain this?
Easy…I can’t.
“About damn time,” Cole says unhelpfully.
“S-s-shut up,” Liam screams, his voice breaking.
Cole holds up his hands. “Bro, you’re acting like a psycho. Put the bat down.”
“No.” He strikes the stack of my most prized video games next. “You k-k-knew how m-m-much I l-l-loved her.”
He’s right. I did.
My chest feels like it’s made out of lead. “How did you find out?”
Dylan told me he was dancing with Heather, there’s no way he could know we were in there.
“I j-j-just t-t-told you, dumbas-s-ss. I s-s-saw—”
“How did you know we were in the closet?” Cole’s words from earlier detonate my brain. Tommy. “Goddammit.”
He smashes my television next. “Tommy t-t-told me you were s-s-sneaking around b-b-behind my b-b-back. I didn’t b-b-believe him, but he s-s-said he could p-p-prove it.”
How did he know?
It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters right now is Liam thinks I betrayed him.
“I’m so—” The sound of my phone ringing cuts me off.
The ringtone tells me it’s Dylan calling, but no way in hell am I going to answer it in front of him.
As if sensing my internal debate, Liam zeros in on me. “Is t-t-that her?”
Taking my cell out of my pocket, I turn it off. “Doesn’t matter.”
Shaking his head, he places my brand-new laptop on top of my desk.
I take a step toward him. “Liam, stop!”
Liam swings at the air between us before he flips my laptop open and proceeds to smash the screen and keyboard to smithereens.
“Did you t-t-tell her I l-l-loved her?” He swings again and his voice cracks. “Did you b-b-both g-g-get a g-g-good laugh?”
“No.” Liam made me promise never to tell her until he was ready. I swore I’d take his secret to my grave. “I told you I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Ha. Like I c-c-can t-t-trust you,” he screams. “You’re n-n-nothing b-b-b-b-but a liar.”
“Christ, man. Get a grip,” Cole yells. “Stop acting like a maniac and destroying Jace’s stuff.”
Liam glares at his twin. “He k-k-kissed, Dy—”
“Yeah, I know. But Dylan was never yours, dude.” He snorts. “Did you really think you had a shot with her?” He rocks back on his heels. “A blind person could see she’s been into Jace for a while now. But even if she wasn’t, no way would she ever date someone like you.”
My fingers curls into fists. “Cole.”
Despite my tone and Liam’s tears, he continues.
“No one likes you, Liam. Not even your own family.” His features twist in disgust. “You’re embarrassing. Always looking for attention with your crying and stuttering—”
“That’s enough,” I growl, winding my fist back. “Say another word and I swear to God I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
“Whatever. Screw this.” He looks at Liam. “Screw you.” He flips us both the bird. “You assholes sort your own shit out. I’m done.” He starts walking but pauses when he reaches the frame. “I wish it was one of you who died instead of Mom. Maybe then this family wouldn’t be such a disaster.”
With that, he leaves, slamming the door behind him.
Three siblings down. Zero to go. Awesome.
After clearing a spot, I sit down on my bed. “I’m sorry, Liam. I know you’re mad. You have every right to be. But I didn’t mean to hurt you. Dylan and I—”
“Yes, you d-d-did. Otherwise you w-w-wouldn’t have d-d-done it.” Tears cloud his eyes. “You k-k-know how m-m-much I l-l-love her. S-s-she w-w-was the only g-g-good t-t-thing in m-m-my l-l-life.” His body starts shaking with sobs. “N-n-now she’s g-g-gone. J-j-just like M-m-mom.”
I feel so helpless it’s all I can do not to scream. I didn’t want to take Dylan away or upset him like this.
For once, I just wanted to be happy…which is exactly what Dylan makes me.
But as usual, I don’t get that privilege. Liam’s my little brother and I have to make things right between us.
It’s what Mom would want.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I utter, “Tell me how to fix this. What will it take for you to forgive me?”
My mother always told us nothing in life was broken beyond repair. With enough determination, everything could be mended and restored.
However, the inconsolable look on Liam’s face deflates her theory.
“You c-c-can’t, a-s-s-shole.” Anger radiates off him in waves and he goes back to smashing my stuff. “I’ll n-n-never f-f-forgive you f-f-for t-t-this. You’re a b-b-backstabber. The w-w-worst b-b-brother in the w-w-world. F-f-fuck you.”
Dammit. I’ve tried to stay calm and be understanding, but I’ve had about all I can take. I could turn myself inside out and roll over every broken piece of glass in this room, and it wouldn’t matter at this point. He’s determined to make me suffer.
Why should I care about him when it’s clear he doesn’t give a shit about me or my happiness?
Standing, I point to the door. “Get out. I’m not your punching bag.”
His jaw clenches. “No.” He smashes the frame containing a picture of me and our mother on my nightstand. “I hat-t-te you.”
Whatever thread I was hanging onto snaps. “Fine, but hating me and smashing my shit still won’t make Dylan like you.” Rushing toward him, I snatch the bat out of his hand. “Get the fuck out of my room, crybaby.” His eyes widen and he freezes, but it’s too late. He’s already pushed me to my limit. There’s no going back now.
Taking hold of his arm, I begin hauling him toward the door. When he struggles, I grab his hair and drag him across the room like an animal. It’s exactly what he’s acting like. “Congrats, you just lost the only friend you ever had.” Opening the door, I shove him past the threshold. “Actually, make that two friends. Because you bet your ass I’m telling her everything when she comes over later.”
“Jac-c-c—” He starts to say but I push him so hard he falls.
“Shut your mouth, because I am done listening.” I slam a fist into my chest. “I refuse to be miserable just because you are. Dylan makes me happy and I make her happy.” My throat tightens to the point of pain. “Which is something you’ll never be able to do.”
With that, I slam the door in his face.
Seconds later, I kneel down next to the shattered picture of me and my mom and bury my head in my hands.
I wish like hell she was here to help me pick up the broken pieces of my life.
But a small part of me is thankful she’s not…so she can’t see the mess I’ve made.
The sun peeking through the curtains is like a laser zapping through my skull. With a grunt, I roll over and stuff my pillow over my head, attempting to block out the light.
The events of last night come rushing back like a tsunami.
Dylan.
Liam.
The room my little brother destroyed that took me four hours and seven garbage bags to clean up.
On impulse, I reach for my phone on the nightstand.
It’s off.
Turning my head, I eye the window.
The one I locked last night.
The hand on my phone twitches with the need to call her and explain.
No.
Not until I talk to Liam and hash everything out.
Family comes first.
No matter how much the three of them piss me off—and Jesus Christ, they do—taking care of them has been my sole responsibility ever since my mom died and my father became a ghost.
No matter how much I want to throw in the towel and say fuck it some days, I can’t.
I’m all they have left.
The fight with Liam last night was bad, but it’s not irreparable.
My mom used to tell me that every sunrise brought a brand-new day and a chance to start over.
After tossing the covers off, I throw on a t-shirt and some sweatpants.
It’s the weekend, which means everyone but the sperm donor is home and when they wake up, they’ll be hungry.
I contemplate knocking on Liam’s door when I pass his bedroom but think better of it because I know he—along with my sister Bianca—like to sleep in for as long as humanly possible on the weekends.
Since it’s barely seven, I jog down the stairs instead.
Cole’s already sitting at the table shoving cereal into his mouth when I enter the kitchen. It’s no surprise, since we’re the early birds of the family. It’s one of the only non-physical traits we share with our dickhead father.
“Hey.”
He makes a noise in the back of his throat before he lifts the bowl to his mouth, finishing off the leftover milk.
“If you’re still hungry, I’m making breakfast.”
I grab some butter, milk, and a carton of eggs from the fridge. Then I reach into the cupboard and take out a box of pancake mix.
Pancakes and eggs are Liam’s favorite, and I’m hoping it will be a good enough olive branch for him to want to talk.
Cole’s expression is sour as he peruses the items on the island. “I hate pancakes.”
“I know.”
His eyes narrow. “Pancakes are Liam’s favorite.”
I grit my teeth. Cole needs to get over this internal competition he has with Liam.
“I know.” I crack two eggs over a frying pan and stir in some milk. “I’ll make you some scrambled eggs.”
“I don’t like scrambled eggs.”
Christ almighty. I started the day with only one fuck to give and he’s already pissing on it. “You liked them last week.”
“Not true.” Crossing his arms, he leans back in his seat. “Come on, Jace. What’s my favorite breakfast food?”
“Pretty soon it’s going to be your face in a pan of yolk.” I crack open three more eggs and add some seasoning. “You’ve always liked scrambled eggs.”
“Yeah, Mom’s scrambled eggs.”
Sorry, asshole. Last I checked, Heaven doesn’t deliver.
“What do you want to eat, Cole?”
“My favorite breakfast food.”
This has turned into some kind of test I’m doomed to fail. “Fine. Since it’s no longer scrambled eggs, what’s your new favorite?”
Smugly, he pushes his cereal bowl away. “Frittatas and crème brûlée.”
Scrambled eggs it is. “You’ve never had a frittata in your life. Also, crème brûlée isn’t a breakfast food, it’s dessert. And just so we’re clear—I’m not a motherfucking chef so either eat the shit I’m making or don’t.”
“Why is everyone still yelling?” Bianca whines as she plops down on the seat next to Cole.
“Because Jace likes Liam more than he likes me.”
“That’s not—”
“Duh.” She fishes an apple out of the fruit basket. “Everyone likes Liam more.”
He sulks. “Mom didn’t. I was her favorite.”
Bianca starts laughing. “No—”
“Bianca.” I give her a warning look. “Cut it out.”
If Cole wants to believe he was Mom’s favorite, I won’t correct him.
Truth be told, she coddled Liam way more. But it’s only because Liam was what she referred to as high maintenance and he needed the extra attention.
When Cole started acting out—no doubt trying to steal Liam’s thunder—she was already giving birth to Bianca and finally had the little girl she always wanted. Her focus was divided even more.
I guess I can see why Cole has a jealous streak.
I need to nip this shit in the bud before it gets out of hand. “Why don’t you, me, and Liam hang out today?”
Bianca screws up her face. “What about me?”
“Duh,” I say, repeating her new favorite word. “We can call Mrs. Garcia and ask her to take us to the mall.” I place the eggs on a large dish. “Or we can go to the movies.”
“Those are Liam’s favorite things,” Cole grumps.
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We can toss a football around the backyard for a little while before we leave.”
Where Liam despises sports, Cole can’t seem to get enough of them. Especially football. Kid’s got a killer arm.
That gets a smile out of him. “Okay.” He looks at Bianca. “Think Liam will cry like last time?”
“Only if you throw the football at his face again.”
Cole contemplates this. “Good idea.”
“Will you stop?” I toss the dirty pan in the sink and take out a clean one. “Can we spend one damn day together without all the bullshit?”
Bianca nudges Cole with her elbow. “What’s his problem? He’s moodier than usual.”
I pour the pancake mix into a bowl. “I can still hear you, you know.”
Ignoring me, Cole leans over and says, “Jace and Dylan hooked up last night at the dance and Liam lost his shit.”
“Why?” She grimaces. “Jace and Dylan have been making googly eyes at each other for months.” She swipes a few grapes from the basket. “I can’t believe Liam actually thought he stood a chance.”
So help me God, I’m going to dump this damn batter over their heads.
“Here’s a great idea. How about we not talk about this?”
Bianca makes kissing noises. “But you and Dylan are in love.”
Dig the knife deeper, kid.
“No, we’re not.” I clear my throat. “We’re uh…we’re taking a break.” I stir harder. “Until Liam…you know.”
Doesn’t hate me for stealing his girl.
“Gives you his permission?” Bianca probes.
“More or less,” I mutter.
“That’s dumb,” Cole declares. “Liam needs to suck it up. The world doesn’t revolve around him.”
I’m starting to suspect Cole coming to my defense last night had more to do with his annoyance toward Liam than it did with helping me.
“Maybe you and Dylan can see each other in secret,” Bianca offers. “I saw this movie the other day where this lady’s husband left for work, but the pool boy snuck in after. She was so excited to see him she got down on her knees—”
“What the fuck?” Cole and I yell at the same time.
“How did you…where did you…”
I can’t formulate words because my brain doesn’t want to know how my baby sister got her hands on porn.
Bianca takes a bite of her pear. “I went into Dad’s room last week looking for some of Mom’s nail polish. I didn’t want to go back downstairs to paint my nails, so I turned on the television and the movie was on.” She pouts. “I didn’t get to finish it though. I ended up spilling the polish on the carpet right when the lady started praying.”
Cole and I exchange a glance.
“Started praying?” Cole questions.
“Yeah.” Bianca shrugs innocently. “Why else would she be on her knees?”
“Because she was b—”
I shoot Cole a death glare.
“Praying.” He coughs. “Bet she was praying real good.”
I force myself to breathe again. With not one, but three older brothers, odds are Bianca won’t start praying until she’s eighty-five.
I’ll make sure of it.
I flip the pancakes and check the clock. It’s barely even eight now, but I know Liam prefers the first two pancakes out of the stack. According to him, the rest are never as fluffy and they don’t taste as good.
“Can one of you go upstairs and get Liam? Breakfast will be ready soon.”
“Not it,” Cole and Bianca say at the same time.
Yeah, I should have seen that one coming from a mile away. “Fine—”
The rest of my sentence falls by the wayside when I hear the front door open.
You can cut the tension with a knife the moment my father steps into the kitchen.
After placing his briefcase on a nearby chair, he looks around and smiles. “Oh, wow. What’s all this?”
As if I don’t make breakfast for his children most mornings. “What does it look like?”
“Right, well. It smells really good.” Averting his gaze, he playfully messes Bianca’s hair. “Thank you, Jace.”
I don’t need him to thank me for doing what he should be doing.
I need him to either get out of my way or step the fuck up and be a dad.
“Whatever.” I toss the spatula on the counter next to the stove. “I’m gonna go wake Liam up.”
I overhear his piss-poor attempt at making conversation with Bianca and Cole as I make my way up the staircase. From the sounds of things, they’re over his bullshit too.
Good. Fuck knows I’ve been over it for years.
I pound on Liam’s door harder than necessary. “Time to wake up.” When he doesn’t respond, I try again. “I know you’re mad at me, but put it on hold for a few because I’m making your favorite breakfast.”
No response.
I’m not dumb enough to think pancakes will fix things between us, but the least he can do is respond.
“Come on, man.” I pound on his door harder. “For fuck’s sake, just answer me.”
Yell at me. Tell me I’m the worst brother in the world again. Something.
I get nothing.
I go down the hall and check the bathroom. Empty.
An ugly feeling crawls up in my gut and I bang on his door again. “Liam.”
This time when he doesn’t respond, I turn the knob.
The ugly feeling in my gut snakes up my spine when I take in his empty, made-up bed.
He must have woken up before me. Shit.
My brain’s trying to conjure up all the places he could have run off to when my eyes land on his closet door.
It takes me a second to process what I’m seeing.
Rope.
My eyes track the rope’s path from around the knob to where it’s wedged between the top of the frame and the door.
Why would Liam have rope…
It hits me like a brick to the head and my knees buckle.
No. No. No. No.
A guttural sound rips from my throat as I run across the room to the closet.
“Dad!” My voice is so shredded I hardly recognize it. “Dad, I need you. Something’s wrong with Liam!”
God, please tell me I’m wrong.
Tell me he didn’t do what I think he did.
Tell me my little brother is…
My worst fears are confirmed when I turn the knob, and whatever was left of my heart after my mother died…
Shatters into a thousand tiny little pieces.
My mother was wrong.
Some things can’t be fixed.
A new day doesn’t always bring new chances.
Sometimes it just brings pain and more grief.
Liam had already been dead for hours by the time I found him, but I didn’t need the paramedics to tell me that.
His lips were blue. His skin was blue. The fingertips digging into the rope were blue.
Even the basket he kicked over was blue.
Everything was blue.
Ironic that a shade representing the best things in the world—the sky, the ocean, the color of Dylan’s eyes—also symbolized the worst.
My once favorite color…now made me sick to my stomach.
Almost as sick as the fact that my siblings and I were downstairs, talking and acting like everything was fine…while our brother was hanging from a rope.
All alone in a closet. Discarded like an ugly Christmas sweater.
The muscles in my chest draw tight as I stuff a pillow in my mouth and scream so loud my ears pop.
This is all my fault.
I killed him.
I loved him.
I killed him by loving her.
I scream again, louder this time, but just like Liam’s…my screams for help are silent.
The stone-cold truth of the last forty-eight hours seeps into my bones like an aggressive toxin, contaminating my reality.
He’s gone and he’s never coming back.
He didn’t give me a chance to fix it.
He didn’t give me a chance to apologize.
He didn’t give me a chance to prove I could be a good brother.
He didn’t give me a chance to tell him I’d do anything for him.
Including giving her up.
Balling my fists, I punch my skull.
I’m his big brother, I should have been the one he came to.
The one to help him find a different resolution than the one he chose.
Instead, I was the one who caused the pain that ended his life.
I punch my skull again. So hard I become lightheaded.
If I didn’t kick him out of my room.
If I had checked on him before I went to bed.
If I didn’t fall in love with the girl he gave his heart to.
Should’ve. Would’ve. Could’ve.
There are so many, I’m drowning in them.
But not a single damn one of them will bring Liam back.
Nothing will.
Death is a permanent scar that the people left behind are forced to bear.
And suicide a burden you shoulder forever.
The sound of my phone ringing hums in the background and I snatch it off my bed.
Dylan.
It’s always Dylan calling.
I should tell her what happened…tell her what I did, but I can’t.
Liam’s dead, because I was selfish. Talking to her would be the equivalent of spitting on the grave we’ll be burying him in tomorrow.
I miss her.
The metal casing digs into my fingertips as I clench my cell, combatting the urge to talk to her.
I can’t.
Maybe when things aren’t so fucked-up and I’m able to breathe without the overwhelming rush of pain twisting like a knife, we can be friends again.
I throw the phone against my wall and watch as the screen cracks.
If I never kissed her at the dance, Liam would still be alive.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
If Liam hadn’t walked in on us, I would have had a chance to explain everything to him. He wouldn’t have been blindsided and embarrassed.
But that didn’t happen…because someone stole the opportunity from me. Then he poured salt in the wound by laughing and pointing while Liam cried.
They all did.
Adrenaline lights me up like a rocket as I stand.
I look at the clock on my nightstand. School will be out in twenty-five minutes.
I can’t bring Liam back. I can’t fix the part I played in his death.
But there is something I can do.
Something that will dull the pain…and teach someone a lesson they’ll never forget.
“Where are you going?” Cole questions as I run down the stairs.
I take the bat out of the closet in the foyer, the very same one Liam used the other night. “To make him pay.”
The need for vengeance thrums through my chest with every step I take toward the building.
I’m not stupid enough to walk inside and beat the shit out of him. There are too many witnesses.
But I happen to know his mom works all the time and he walks home instead of taking the bus.
I check my watch. The dismissal bell should be ringing any minute now.
As if on cue, I watch hundreds of kids file out of the school.
Most of them are laughing and smiling…no doubt glad the last day of classes are on the horizon.
While they’ll all be celebrating making it through another year tomorrow…I’ll be burying my little brother.
Because of that motherfucking asshole right there.
Pure wrath pulses through my veins as I watch him wave to a few people before heading down the sidewalk…without a care in the world.
Must be nice to have friends.
Other than me and Dylan, Liam didn’t have any.
Because of him.
History. The nickname Tommy gave Liam burns like acid in my throat.
All Liam wanted was to fit in, to feel like he belonged…it’s the reason he forgave Tommy and befriended him even though I warned him not to.
Unfortunately for Tommy, I’m not the forgiving kind.
My footsteps pick up speed as he reaches the end of the block.
A wooded area is coming up ahead. Which means there’s no place he can run…no place he can hide.
Tick tock, fucker. Your time is coming to an end.
I’m going to do things to him that not even his worst nightmares can conjure up.
Euphoria fills me as he pulls out his cell phone and brings it to his ear.
He’s distracted. Perfect.
Without warning, I strike the bat against his back. To my amusement, he simultaneously trips over a crevice in the cement and goes down like a stack of bricks.
I take the opportunity to drag him into the woods, belly down.
“What the fuck?” he yells, clawing at the dirt and branches. “Somebody help!”
Sorry, man. There’s no mercy for a piece of shit like you.
I stop when I find a good spot and get on top of him, pressing his face into the dirt.
“Help!”
He struggles against me, but I mush his face harder before letting him up for some air.
If I kill him too quickly, I’ll miss out on all the fun.
“Why are you doing this?” he chokes out. “Who are you?”
Leaning down, I whisper, “I’ll give you a hint.”
His body tenses. “Jace?”
He tries to get up and we grapple in the dirt for a minute. I give him just enough leeway to turn over but the second he does, I wrap my hand around his throat and bash my forehead against his nose.
Confusion mars his bloody face. “What the hell? Why…w-why are you doing this?”
I spit at him. “Look who’s stuttering now, bitch.”
Before he can speak, I place the barrel of the bat over his crotch and press down on it as I stand up, crushing his nuts.
I laugh when he screams in agony.
“Stop!”
“Okay,” I tell him. “But if I do, this bat is going somewhere else. Somewhere a little narrower.”
I can feel the fear wafting off him. “I’m sorry for what I did to Liam at the dance.” He sucks in a shaky breath. “I’ll apologize when I see him. Swear on my life.”
Another bolt of rage slices through me. “You can’t, fuckface.”
“Yes, I ca—”
“He’s dead.” I apply more pressure and watch in delight as he trembles from the pain. “He ended it…because of you.”
And me.
“Fuck!” I’m not sure if his outburst is from the agony he’s experiencing or shock from the news. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be.” I lean down on the bat and he yelps. “But don’t worry, this will all be over.” I flash him some teeth. “Eventually.”
He looks up at the sky and curses. “I wish I never listened to her.”
I have no idea what he’s rambling about. “Listened to who?”
“Dylan.”
Evidently, I do still have a heart because it speeds up at the mention of her name.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“It was her plan.” His voice becomes hoarse. “She tricked me. She tricked all of us, Jace.”
I’m not sure what he’s getting at, but Dylan is my best friend, so the need to defend her instinctively trumps whatever bullshit Tommy’s slinging.
I stomp on his leg. “Dylan didn’t trick anyone, motherfucker.”
“Yes, she did.” He lets out an ear-piercing scream when I twist the bat. “Fuck, man. I have no reason to lie to you. I have a little brother too, so I know how it works. If Liam killed himself because of something I did, I know I have no chance of getting out of these woods alive.” His breath leaves him in shallow pants. “But you might want to know the truth before you bash my skull in.”
The shithead has a point. I ease up on the pressure ever so slightly. “Start talking.”
His expression flickers with guilt. “I’ve had a crush on Dylan since seventh grade.”
I stop him right there. The last thing I need is to hear him go on and on about how much he wants her. “I’m not interested in your—”
“It’s important,” he insists. “It’s why things went down the way they did at the dance.”
I’m not following. “What did you liking Dylan have to do with you taking Liam to the closet to see us, or making fun of him in front of the entire school?”
“That was the plan.” He slaps the dirt with his palm “She wanted to get back at you for going to the dance with Britney.” He sucks in a sharp breath. “Let me back up. I approached her in the band room closet after I heard you asked Britney to the dance. I knew Dylan would be upset about it and I was hoping to use it to my advantage.”
I press down on the bat.
“Goddammit, Jace. I’m not done.”
“Then I suggest you talk quicker,” I grit through my teeth. “Because every word out of your mouth makes me want to rip off your nads and shove them down your throat.”
He blanches. “She told me how upset she was, and I suggested that she even the score by going to the dance with me.” He shrugs. “I’d hung out with her in the band room a few times after school by then, and our conversations…I thought I finally had a chance now that you were out of the way.”
My mind floats back to when Dylan mentioned she spoke with Tommy after class.
I ignore the weird feeling brewing in my gut. Shady people aren’t honest with their best friends.
Not to mention, she dared me to kiss her that day.
“Okay. Then what?”
“She turned me down. She said she was already going with someone and it would do a much better job of pissing you off. When I asked her who…she told me it was Liam.”
He’s lying. “Dylan wouldn’t do that.”
“I have no reason to lie to you, man. Not now.” He swallows hard. “Can I ask you something?”
Despite myself, I oblige. “What?”
“Did Dylan ever do or say anything that would make you believe she was into Liam?”
The look on my face must give away my answer because he says, “I’m not trying to be a dick, but why else would Dylan go to the dance with him?”
That thought churns painfully in my stomach. As much as I hate to admit it, there was a small part of me that briefly wondered if she went with Liam to dig at me.
But then I quickly realized how stupid that was, because no matter how angry she was with me, Dylan would never make Liam her pawn.
I figured Liam had finally decided to make his move and she was starting to come around to the idea of him.
Which made me even more of a terrible brother for kissing her.
Regret and remorse punch through my chest.
I convinced myself I was going out there to confront her in order to protect Liam, but seeing her so close with Tommy made my blood boil.
I never spared my little brother a thought after that.
Not until Dylan mentioned she wanted to hang out at my house that night.
Tommy continues talking when I’m silent. “She told me she’d give me a chance if I could help her come up with an even better plan to get back at you.” He looks sheepish. “So I did.”
It feels like a rock is wedged in my throat. “What was the plan?”
I need to hear all the details. Every link in the messed-up chain they constructed that ended with my baby brother dying.
“Since she was already going with Liam, I told her I’d come through with a way to distract him halfway through the dance. This way we could sneak away. As luck would have it, Cole ditching his date provided a perfect one.”
The rock in my throat becomes a boulder, siphoning off my air supply with every word he says.
“My plan was for you to catch us making out in the hallway after you noticed she wasn’t with Liam, but she said that wasn’t good enough. She wanted me to provoke you and start a fight with you.”
I gesture for him to keep going because I can’t formulate words.
“Liam was supposed to catch us out in the hallway fighting over her. The goal was to cause a rift between you and your brother because she knew it would hurt you.”
“Liam said he saw us in the closet, not the hallway.”
I’m grasping at straws here, but it’s all I’ve got.
I don’t want to believe Dylan would be capable of doing something so spiteful and vindictive.
Tommy nods. “Dylan deviated from the plan when she told me to go back inside. I was so angry with her, I decided to spill the beans to Liam myself…”
His voice trails off, but I need to hear the rest.
I push down on the bat. “Keep talking.”
He sputters a curse. “Liam didn’t believe me, so I told him I could prove it.” His face twists in pain. “I took him to the hallway, but you guys weren’t there. I quickly figured out where you might have gone because it was where we used to hang out. However, what I didn’t expect to see was…it didn’t look fake.”
It didn’t feel fake, either.
White-hot pain races through my chest. I hate that Tommy’s version of events line up perfectly with what actually went down that night.
He scowls. “I was pissed. I thought Dylan was my girl. Liam became upset too…even more than me.” He holds up his hands. “I fucked up, Jace. I was wrong for bullying him. But, man. I was so angry with her.” His nostrils flare. “Like a fool, part of me kept holding on to hope, but when I found out she moved away, everything made sense. The bitch was playing me too.”
What the actual fuck?
“She didn’t move away.”
“Yes, she did. A teacher at school confirmed it today. She’s gone, dude.” His eyes connect with mine. “Evidently, her father found out he landed a new job a couple of weeks ago.” His jaw tics. “Guess she wanted to burn a few bridges before she left Royal Manor for good.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
My lungs compress and my vision turns red.
It’s like seeing Liam hanging in the closet all over again…only somehow worse.
Because the person I trusted most in this world betrayed me.
Dylan’s intent might not have been for Liam to kill himself, but she still used him.
No, worse. The bitch intentionally hurt him, even though he was completely innocent.
Tension locks my jaw and rides down my neck. Liam never did a damn thing wrong to warrant being caught up in any of this.
Hell, he’d never even think about hurting Dylan. He’d rather die.
Liam never deserved any of this.
The roar that slashes through me as I place a foot on Tommy’s stomach and pick up the bat has a wet spot forming on the front of his pants.
I’m gonna kill him. I feel it in my bones.
It hurts too much, and Liam isn’t here to be my conscience and tell me all the good shit Mom used to spout off.
“Holy shit. Put the bat down, Jace.”
My lungs freeze when I see Liam making his way through the woods. “Liam?”
He’s okay. Everything is fine. I can fix my mistake. I can…
My heart drops when Liam walks over to me and I realize it isn’t Liam after all…it’s Cole.
Everything is not fine. It won’t ever be again.
“He hurt Liam.” Wet shit is dripping down my face, blurring my sight as I raise the bat. “Dylan hurt Liam.”
I hurt Liam.
Everyone at school hurt Liam.
Why’d they all have to laugh and pick on him?
Why couldn’t they just see him for the awesome, genuine person he was?
Why couldn’t I fall for someone like Britney instead of her?
I’m spinning in circles, but I can’t make it stop. I can’t make any of it stop.
All I know is I want my little brother back so bad I’d gladly trade my own life for his without hesitation.
And Tommy has to die, because it’s not fair that he’s allowed to go on breathing when Liam isn’t.
Cole squeezes my shoulder. “I know it hurts.” He pries the bat out of my hands. “But killing Tommy won’t make it better.”
Like hell it won’t.
Tommy begins slinking away, but Cole snatches his t-shirt.
“Just so we’re clear. Me stopping him from killing your sorry ass has nothing to do with you.” He crashes his forehead against Tommy’s. “If I still believed in God or any of that bullshit, I’d personally beg him to send you straight to hell where you belong.” He tightens his grip. “Swear on your family, if you ever say a word about what happened in these woods, I’ll—”
“I won’t.” His frantic eyes dart between us. “If my mom notices anything, I’ll blame it on someone else.”
I get close to his face. “Don’t think for one second this means we’re cool. You see me walking down the street, you better turn the other way and pray to whatever higher power you believe in that I don’t spot you first, motherfucker.”
“Got it.” He sits up and looks around, as though he’s waiting for us to stop him.
“Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind,” I shout so loud I’m positive my vocal cords have snapped.
Peeling himself off the ground, he hobbles out of the woods as fast as his punk-ass legs can carry him.
“What the fuck was that?” Cole grits out after he’s gone. “You were really going to kill him.”
“It hurts.” I sink to my haunches. “It hurts too much.”
He joins me on the ground. “You can’t do that to us, Jace. You still have me and Bianca. We need you.”
He’s right. It would be hard to take care of them from a jail cell.
“I miss him.”
I miss his smiles and his jokes. I miss his compassion for people and his understanding for those who didn’t deserve it.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to just accept that I’m never going to experience any of that again.
He made the world a better place.
Cole nods. “I do too. I…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I feel different.” He pounds on his chest. “Something in here…it doesn’t feel right anymore.” His voice cracks. “I feel empty and hollow. Like I’m missing a big piece of something.”
“That’s because we are.” I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes to stop the wet shit dripping down my face. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.” Words clog my throat. “I don’t want to say goodbye to him.”
I just want to go numb.