Chapter 36
brIELLE
“Oh, Jesus,” Wes mutters, suddenly here, somehow standing directly in front of me.
He’s blocking my view of Dad as I let go of the plate the cake was on and let him take it from me. It clatters onto the counter somewhere before I hear a spitting noise, followed by Mom’s disbelieving voice.
“Brielle! What has gotten into you? You—you don’t do these things!”
My fingers are coated in cream cheese icing.
The sticky feeling all over my skin only drives me further into the pool of crazy I’ve created around myself.
I press them to Wes’ shoulder and try to push him out of the way, but he remains in place, his expression hard-set.
The icing spreads across his shirt, painting him in his own birthday cake.
“Let it go, Mom. Just let it all go. I’m taking her home now,” he barks, ignoring my efforts to get at Dad again.
His heavy hand wraps around my bicep and remains there as he pulls me out of the room like a naughty child.
With a shrug, I try to get free, but he only tightens his hold.
My senses are overloaded, and feeling the tight grip of his fingers is doing nothing more than making him the focal point for my anger instead of the man we’re leaving behind.
“I don’t need you to walk me out. And I don’t want a ride,” I snap.
When I pull my arm this time, it’s hard enough that he has no choice but to release me. I roll my shoulder and glare at him and his dirty shirt.
“You came with me, in case you forgot. And I’m not leaving you here. You’ll stab him next, and that won’t be as easy to pretend didn’t happen as smashing a cake into his face.”
“How could you not tell me?” I shout, whirling around and jabbing my finger into his chest. “You let me spend months—no, years—pushing you toward him while he was cheating on our mother? I feel like such an idiot! A pathetic, na?ve idiot!”
My eyes burn with hot tears as I push him away again and fist my hair. The French braid I was so proud of mastering this morning is ruined now, but I can’t stop tugging at it. My feet carry me toward the front door, and somehow, my knees don’t give out.
“How was I supposed to bring this up? ‘Oh, hey, by the way, not only is our dad an asshole to me about what I do for a living, but he’s also having an affair?’ That’s not just something I mention on the low, Brielle,” he says from behind me.
I rip open the door and yank it shut behind me. No slam follows. Wes’ footsteps do.
“There was never going to be a proper time for something like that. You were just supposed to tell me because we’re family!
We deal with a situation like this together, as a team, not individually.
If I’d known, I wouldn’t have even bothered with this party!
With any of this. He doesn’t deserve my efforts, and as far as I’m concerned, neither does Mom. ”
“It’s not her fault. She’s been with him longer than we’ve been alive,” he says, not scolding, but close.
Either way, it pisses me off. “She lets him walk all over her. It’s how things have always been between them.”
“Love does stupid shit to people all the time. It still doesn’t change the fact that she’s not responsible for his actions.
This was Dad being Dad. Point fucking blank.
I don’t know why you ever thought he would turn out as anything other than a piece of shit when that’s all he’s ever been toward us. ”
“Don’t lecture me about love when you’d rather be alone forever than find someone to spend time with.”
It’s a petty dig. So, so petty. To the point I feel close to throwing up when his jaw gets tighter and he laughs darkly under his breath.
“Don’t come to me on some high horse. I might not know shit about love, but at least I’m not so desperate for it that I’ve allowed myself to be used multiple times.
Maybe you should take a second to consider why I didn’t tell you about this in the first place before you go attacking me for keeping it a secret. ”
“Get away from me, Wesley.”
The crack in my voice is ten times worse than I could have imagined. Every single thing he said hits too deep because he’s right.
My dating history is littered with men just like our father who see my last name and see an in with Wes. It’s never about me or the abundance of love I have to offer someone.
Not until Roman.
I almost blurt out my secret right here and now, just to see if I can hurt him as much as he’s just hurt me. But the words don’t form. It doesn’t matter how angry or upset I may be, hurting my brother like that isn’t possible for me.
“Go!” I yell instead when he lingers.
His face pales. “I’m not going to leave you here and go home like nothing is wrong.”
“I’ll call Aubrey. I don’t want to be near you right now.”
“I shouldn’t have said all that.”
I bite the inside of my cheek when a tear pools beneath my eye. Giving him my back, I pull my phone out with filthy hands. The smears of cake on the screen make my stomach roll. I try and clean it off on my shorts.
“At least tell me when you get home,” Wes says.
I ignore him again because if I speak, I’ll start to cry.
The unread message on my phone should make me happy. Seeing Roman’s name pop up has become my favourite part of every day, yet right now, it makes my heart turn to cement in my chest. Wes’ words blare through my mind on repeat.
I have been desperate for love. Is that why I’m with Roman when I know our relationship can lead to problems for not only us, but those we care about?
Not wanting Wes to hear my call, I start down the sidewalk while pulling Aubrey’s contact up. She answers on the third ring.
“What’s up? Tell me the party wasn’t as big of a fail as I’ve been imagining.
The only thing that kept me alive while listening to Beck explain the different types of espresso was the hope that at least one of us was having a good time.
I still don’t know how you put up with this guy. Is it really just because he’s pretty?”
My lip quivers at the sound of her voice, the joke speeding right over my head. “Can you come get me?”
“What did he do?” she asks, all the teasing sucked out of her voice, leaving it frigid.
“Quickly, if you can.”
A pause. “Did you mean to call me?”
“Who else would I have called?” I whisper, closing my eyes tightly.
“I’m going to kick your brother’s ass, Elle. You do not cry over a man. Do you understand me?”
There’s muffled cursing before I hear a familiar, deep voice somewhere near Aubrey. There aren’t words spoken that I can hear. It’s like she’s wrapped her hand around her phone to keep me from listening, which means I’m most likely right about who I heard.
Roman is at Kellan’s house right now. For some reason, he’s there while I’m here, wishing that we were both somewhere else entirely.
The sickly sweet scent of icing clings to the inside of my nose as I sniffle and stare out at the long, curved driveway.
I didn’t grow up here, but rather in a house that didn’t have a driveway or a garage.
It was a two-bedroom split-level bungalow with a yellow-tiled kitchen and a matching tub in the bathroom we all shared.
Wes gave this place to our parents, and this is how they repaid him.
I almost laugh.
“Be there soon,” Aubrey says before the line goes dead.
I squeeze the phone, imagining crushing it in my grip before I lower it.
My brother’s watching me. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that he isn’t going to let me stand out here alone when the alternative is heading back inside with our parents.
Leaving before I do isn’t an option, either, considering how he was raised.
He might not like our father or have even an ounce of respect for him, but he still raised him to look out for women, regardless of the situation.
Thinking about that now has the laugh I squashed a moment ago roaring up my throat. What a fucking hypocrite.
Respecting women . . . that’s rich.
The following ten minutes go by in a suffocating silence. I check Aubrey’s shared location another five times before giving up and walking down the driveway. She hasn’t moved from Kellan’s house, but there’s no way she isn’t already on her way, if not a few minutes away by now.
Wes makes no move to approach me from wherever it is he’s hiding out. The gate at the bottom is already open when I slip through and throw my middle finger up at the security camera peering down at me. Nobody ever watches that footage, but fuck does it feel good anyway.
After a second longer, I lower my hand and spin toward the road.
My feet cross awkwardly at the ankle when I notice the car parked down the street. The headlights are bright even in the evening light as they gleam into my eyes. I blink and glance to the left at the same time the driver’s door opens.
“My brother—” I start before Roman’s taking quick, uncontrolled steps in my direction.
“I knew the risk when I came.”
I try to swallow, but my mouth is too dry. Looking behind me again, I’m fully prepared to see Wes running like a madman toward us. When I don’t see him, I whip my head back around and try to piece together why Roman’s staring at me like he’s afraid I’m going to pop like a bubble in a harsh wind.
The track jacket he has zipped up to his pecs rustles when he reaches out with a tattooed hand and fists the hair at my nape.
His body meets mine before he’s tipping my head back and kissing me so hard my eyes refuse to close.
His are drooping, but not completely closed, like maybe he doesn’t want to look away yet.
I fist his jacket and tug him closer, already aware that’s not possible.
Still, he lets me yank him around as our lips part and slowly separate.
His free hand travels all over my body, from my neck to each arm and down my front.
It’s not sexual, but more clinical. When he stills, he clamps his teeth together and delves his fingers deeper into my hair despite their tight hold, anchoring himself to me.