Chapter 11 A Killer Snowman #2
I scrambled out of bed, grabbing my robe. "Stay here," I told Hitch, my voice already filled with dread. I knew this wasn't going to be good.
"No way. I'm going with you." Hitch swung his legs over the side of the bed.
I opened the door and ran down the stairs, Hitch hot on my heels. As I reached the bottom step, I saw Brady pacing in the living room, his face a mask of barely suppressed fury.
"What's going on, Brady?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"Where the fuck were you last night?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low. "With that...that guy?" He spat out the last word as if it were poison.
My heart sank. I knew exactly what he was talking about. War.
"It doesn't matter, Brady," I replied, trying to sound calm, though panic surged through me.
"It matters to me!" He advanced, his eyes blazing. "You were with War, weren't you? What were you fucking doing?"
I looked down. I couldn't lie, but I didn't want to admit the truth, either. "It's complicated," I mumbled.
Brady turned to Hitch, his eyes narrowed. "You knew, didn't you?"
"We were together," Hitch answered, his voice firm. "We came home together."
Brady scoffed. "And what does that mean?"
"It means, Fallon is safe," Hitch said back, his eyes narrowing.
"Safe? Safe from what? War?" Brady pointed toward me. "He's dangerous, Fallon. He's connected to Foley."
My blood ran cold. Brady knew. He knew about the danger, about Foley.
"Brady, it's not what you think," I pleaded, but the words felt hollow even to my own ears. "It's...complicated."
"Complicated?" He laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "It's simple, Fallon. You're putting yourself in danger. And I won't let it fucking happen."
He lunged forward, grabbed my arm, and began to drag me towards the front door. "Where are you taking me?" I cried, struggling against his grip.
"Away from here. Away from him," Brady answered, his voice filled with a desperate resolve.
Hitch stepped in front of Brady, blocking his path. "Let her go, Brady," he said, his voice hard.
Brady didn't hesitate. "Get out of my fucking way, Hitch."
"You're hurting her."
"And I'm trying to protect my sister!"
I watched, paralyzed, as the two men, each with their own brand of protectiveness, stood facing off against one another.
Brady was out of control, and I knew it was because Nina's murder was haunting him.
He'd have good days when he wouldn't even think about it, but he had bad days where all of their memories hit him and he spiraled the entire day.
It was like she was a drug and she kept him high all day.
When he did have her he was 'Brady', my sweet brother who would give me the moon if I said I wanted it.
Nina's murder had changed him—it stole my brother.
But the secrets and the aftermath taunted him daily, much like they did for me.
It was a fucking miracle both of us were still standing after everything we had been through.
But we had Julian to worry about, he was the only thing that saved us, we just didn't know how much he was going to change our lives.
Hitch pushed Brady, not hard, but with enough force to make him stumble backwards. "You're acting crazy, man. Let her go."
Brady, regaining his balance, glared at Hitch. "Stay out of this, you don't fucking understand."
"Maybe I do," Hitch countered, his jaw tight. "I see how much you love her, but you're fucking suffocating her. You're scaring her."
I was caught in the middle, torn between the two men I loved—in different ways.
Brady's grip on my arm was bruising, and his eyes were wild with a protectiveness that had morphed into something dangerous.
I knew Hitch was right, but I also understood the source of Brady's rage.
He was losing control, and I was the one paying the price.
"Both of you, stop it!" I shouted, finally finding my voice. "Brady, you're hurting me! Hitch, stay out of this."
My pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears. Brady and Hitch continued to stare each other down, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.
Brady's face was contorted, a mixture of anger, grief, and something akin to desperation.
He looked like he was about to lose it. I knew he was close.
I could feel the electricity in the air, the impending storm.
Hitch didn't back down. He stood his ground, his gaze unwavering, and I saw a flicker of something new in his eyes—a protectiveness that went beyond mere lust, a desire to keep me safe. It was a strange mix of emotions, and one that made me feel more confused than ever.
I hated seeing Brady like this, and I knew deep down he was only trying to protect me. But I couldn't ignore the way his grip on my arm was growing tighter, the frantic look in his eyes that had turned manic. I couldn't let him take me away like this. Not now. Not when everything was so unstable.
"Brady, I can't," I said, my voice coming out in a desperate whisper.
He looked at me, his face falling, the fight draining out of him before my eyes. The devastation was palpable. "Why?" he asked, the word laced with pain.
I looked at Hitch, who was watching me closely, waiting for my next move. I knew I was playing with fire, leading both of them on, but I wasn't ready to let either of them go. Not yet.
"Because..." I paused, searching for the right words, for a way to explain the impossible. "Because I need to figure things out. For myself."
Brady's face hardened again, the brief moment of vulnerability vanishing. "Figure things out? With him?" He gestured towards Hitch with a sneer.
"Not necessarily," I countered. "I just need space. Time."
He laughed, a bitter sound that grated on my ears. "Space? You think you have time? You think we have time?" He was right, but what was I supposed to do? What could I do?
"You're making a mistake, Fallon," he said, his voice flat.
He was defeated. He knew he'd lost. I took a step towards him, but he flinched, as if expecting a blow. The sight tore at my heart.
"I'm sorry, Brady," I whispered, the words catching in my throat.
He turned away, unable to meet my gaze. "Fine," he muttered, his shoulders slumping. "Do what you fucking want."
He started to walk towards the front door, his steps heavy, his posture broken.
I watched him go, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me, a feeling that quickly turned into a dull ache.
My brother was spiraling. And I caused it.
As he reached the door, he stopped and turned back to me, his eyes red-rimmed.
"Just...be careful, Fall," he said, his voice cracking.
And with that, he was gone, the slam of the door echoing in the suddenly silent house.
I turned to Hitch, who was now standing next to me, his arm snaking around my waist. The guilt lingered, a heavy weight on my chest, but mixed with a strange sense of liberation.
It was a lie, I knew it. He'd never really let me be, and I didn't want him to.
But the words that Brady had spoken about War had really struck a chord, and I was terrified.
"He'll be back," Hitch said softly, his voice a comforting rumble in my ear. "He loves you and Julian. He just doesn't know how to deal with things."
I leaned into him, seeking solace in his embrace. He pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me, offering a haven from the storm. But even in his arms, the questions lingered.
"I'm scared, Hitch," I confessed. "About everything."
He kissed the top of my head. "I know, crazy girl. But I'm here. We'll face it together. Whatever it is."
The word 'we' was a balm to my raw nerves, a promise of unity in the face of chaos. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to believe him, to trust in the strength of our connection. Maybe we could face it together. Maybe we could find a way through the darkness.
"What do we do now?" I asked, my voice small.
The aftermath of Brady's outburst hung in the air, a reminder of the fragility of our newfound peace. Hitch's eyes narrowed, a glint of determination replacing the softness. He seemed to be weighing his options, his mind racing.
"We need to figure out what's going on, and fast." His hand tightened on my waist, the gesture both possessive and protective. "We need to know what Foley is up to, and what War has to do with it."
"And Julian," I added, remembering my earlier thoughts. "We need to keep him safe."
Hitch nodded, his expression grim. "Absolutely. He's the most important thing." He paused, his gaze hardening. "And we need to figure out what's going on with you and War."
My heart skipped a beat, a mix of fear and excitement surging through me. I didn't want to talk about it, but I knew he was right. We couldn't ignore the white rose, the stalking, the intrigue. But a sense of dread washed over me, a foreboding that grew with every moment.
"I don't know what to think," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.
He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs caressing my cheeks.
"We'll figure it out," he said, his voice firm.
"Together." He leaned in and kissed me, a slow, deliberate kiss that promised a future full of unknowns.
"But first," he whispered against my lips, "we are going to take Julian to see those Christmas lights. "
A small smile crept onto my face. In the midst of the chaos, in the face of all the danger, Julian's bright eyes and innocent laughter were a lifeline. He was the anchor in the storm, the one thing that grounded me.
"You're right," I said, a sense of hope blooming in my chest. "Let's go."
We headed to the stairs when I stopped dead in my tracks.
"Hitch, wait!" I exclaimed.
Hitch turned around, with a confused look on his face.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
I walked back toward the living room, and sat in the chair, eyes glued to the window.
"Do you see him?" I whispered, my voice trembling.