He sounded furious.
I nodded. “I know, but I still feel like I should have known better.”
“Repeat in that beautiful head of yours that you are not, and will never be, responsible for someone else’s actions. People make their own decisions, no matter what the situation. If they do something, it’s because they choose to do it. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault.”
I pressed my face into the crook of his neck.
“I’ve got you, Lane,” he breathed into my hair. “I’ve got you.”
I smelled whisky on him, and it was strong. The scent caused my senses to come alive and my body to awaken for the first time in weeks.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled, trying to force away the urge to let the scent consume me. “Drew will kill me.”
He grunted. “She told me what she said to you, and you better ignore her. She won’t touch you. She was just in a bad mood.”
Uh-huh.
“Have you had much to drink?” I asked, pulling back from him.
He nodded, his eyes bloodshot. “To celebrate your uncle’s birthday I had some Jack – or a lot of Jack.”
I needed him to leave. “Everyone is asleep, so maybe you should go on home—”
“I love you,” he interrupted.
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I said,” he chuckled, “I love you. I love you so much.”
“Stop it.” I frowned at him. “You are drunk. You say and do stuff you don’t mean when you’re drunk.”
“No, I don’t,” he slurred.
“Yeah,” I argued. “You do.”
And I have the broken heart to prove it.
“I’ve been thinking a lot tonight,” he said, smiling.
“You thinking?” I questioned. “That’s always a dangerous thing.”
Kale snorted. “Ha ha ha.”
I shook my head at him, smiling.
“Kale, go home. You need to go to sleep.”
“No,” he stated. “What I need to do is talk to you.”
I couldn’t deal with him when he was like this. “Okay, talk really quick because I don’t want my parents to come down here and see you drunk in the front garden.”
Kale lifted his finger to his mouth and whispered, “I’ll be quiet.”
Why does he have to be so bloody adorable?
I bit down on my lower lip. “Okay, talk, but still be quiet.”
“Okay,” he exhaled, then shook his head like he was trying to stay awake, “what I wanted to talk to you was about us having sex—”
“Whoa, Kale.” I cut him off, feeling my face flush with heat. “It’s best if we don’t speak about that, okay?”
It was less gut-wrenching not to voice it aloud. Just thinking about it hurt enough.
“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head and almost falling in the same direction, until I grabbed hold of him.
He was wasted.
I grunted in annoyance. “Just because.”
“Okay.” He frowned, blinking very slowly. “I won’t talk about it, but I want to talk about what it meant—”
“Kale,” I groaned. “Please, I can’t do this with you. I really can’t.”
“Will you let me finish?” He scowled, swaying on his feet.
I rolled my eyes and waved him on.
“I’m trying to tell you that” – hiccup – “I’ve thought hard” – hiccup – “and long, and I want you to” – hiccup – “be with me, please and thank you.” He thought about what he’d just said and then laughed at himself, hard.
I stared at him in disbelief. “What, Kale?”
“I love you a lot,” he slurred. “Be with me.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I snapped, anger surging through my veins.
He shoved his finger in my face and said, “No, but I know what you’re saying, or what I’m saying.”
He was hurting my head.
“Love you.” He beamed. “Be mine.”
“No,” I snapped, and pushed his hand away. “No, you don’t love me – you love Drew.”
Pain and awareness flashed across his face.
“I love both of you.”
I laughed humourlessly. “Aren’t you lucky having two girls on the go?”
Kale scowled at me, stumbling to the left. “Stop that. Don’t be hurtful.”
“You’re being hurtful!” I retorted. “This is evil what you’re doing, I’m not doing this with you.”
“I love you,” he repeated as if I’d never spoken. “Be with me.”
He’ll wake up sober tomorrow and regret saying any of this, just like he did after we had sex.
I swallowed. “No, Kale.”
He stared at me, his eyes inflamed. “No?”
I nodded. “No.”
He swallowed, and I saw the muscle in his jaw roll back and forth.
“Okay,” he said, his voice low. “Okay.”
I was doing this to protect my own heart, and to protect him from having to talk his way out of this tomorrow morning, but it didn’t make saying what I did any easier.
“We’re best friends,” I whispered. “I’m like your sister.”
That word was like vinegar in my mouth.
Kale almost glared at me as he nodded. “Okay.” He stretched the word out.
I stepped towards him, but he stumbled away from me.
“I’m going to my parents’ house,” he said. “See you later, Lane.”
He turned and walked away from me then, and with every step he took, my legs threatened to run after him, but I forced myself to turn around and go back into my parents’ house. I halted at the top of the stairs and stared at my bedroom door.
I didn’t want to sleep on my own – not tonight. Not after what had just happened. Without much thought, I walked towards my parents’ room and opened the door.
“Mum?” I whispered.
She shot upright in her bed. “I’m awake – are you okay?”
I hesitated in speaking for a moment and then shook my head.
“Can I sleep with you?” I whispered.
“I’ll go into your room,” my father’s voice said as he got out of bed. “Get in beside your mother, darling.”
/>
He stood out of my way as I walked around to his side of the bed and crawled into it and wrapped my arms around my mother. I hated what I was doing to them. I had slept with my mother a lot after I came home from the hospital, because I was having nightmares, and I knew they both had trouble sleeping because they were so worried about me.
“I feel broken,” I muttered against my mother’s chest.
“It will be okay, baby,” she whispered, and kissed my head. “I promise.”
My father left the room, and I heard a loud bang seconds later as if he’d hit something.
“Do you want to talk to me, or to someone, about what happened?” she asked.
I blinked in the darkness.
She thought I was in her arms because of what Jensen had tried to do to me, but I wasn’t. I was still in a state of shock over that, but I felt like the only damage from that night was the small physical marks he left, and once they were gone, he had no hold over me. He’d scared me straight; I would never again behave the way I did to get myself into a situation like that.
I swore it to myself.
What my mother didn’t know was that it was the person she considered a son who had me so torn up and vulnerable. She didn’t know that he was the reason I used to drink and got lost in different lads. She didn’t know I gave him my virginity and that he didn’t remember a single thing about it. She didn’t know I had been in love with him since I was ten years old, and she definitely didn’t know I’d give up everything to be his.
My mother didn’t know she had raised a complete idiot, and she wouldn’t if I had anything do with it. I was going to change. Everything was going to change.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Day four in York
Lane, are you ready?”
I jumped with fright when Layton’s voice called my name.
“Sorry,” he said, laughing from behind me. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I got up from the kitchen table and turned to face him.
“You didn’t scare me.”
My brother grinned. “Aye, that’s why you almost jumped out of your skin then?”
I scrunched up my nose, making him laugh.
“Are we good to go?” I asked.
He nodded. “Nanny is just using the loo, and then we’re heading out.”
I nodded. “Come in and close the door then; I want to speak to you.”