Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
His arms hold me tight and I lean into him silently. My brain’s working but it’s sluggish, like I’m still in that dream at the bottom of the lake. We found Luke… found him at the dock, but he had a gun… I got pushed…
Pieces start to come together.
“You got shot.” I turn to him, unsure of myself. “But you don’t look like it.”
He lifts his shirt and shows me a patch on his ribs. “He missed. I think he was distracted by you almost breaking your head open. Which is my fault, I pushed you too hard. I’m sorry, love, I was trying to get you out of the way.”
“He wasn’t really going to shoot me, was he?”
“In retrospect, probably not. I think he was always aiming for me. But you were between us and I didn’t want to take the chance.” He grazes a thumb down my cheek. “I’m so sorry, love.”
“It’s okay. You were trying to protect me.”
There’s guilt in his expression even though he did nothing wrong. “We’ll take care of you now though, don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“But what about Luke? What about you?”
“I’m fine. My wound’s a bad graze. As for your brother…” He trails off, his eyes cutting toward the door.
Understanding creeps up on me. “What did you do? Did you hurt him?”
“No more than I had to.”
“Liam, tell me, is my brother still alive?”
He hesitates then reluctantly pats my leg. “He’s still alive. He’s in the other room right now.”
My heart leaps and stutters. Excitement filters through me, but it’s quickly squashed by the grim set of Liam’s mouth. “This is good, isn’t it? I mean, Luke’s okay?”
“You don’t understand…” He kisses my head along the bandage. “I’m breaking a lot of rules right now.”
“I want to talk to him.”
“That’s not a good idea. The doctor said—“
I push myself off the bed. Swinging my legs over the side makes me dizzy and I have to use the wall for support. Liam curses and comes after me, but once it’s clear I’m not going back to bed, he growls something about me being a stubborn idiot, but helps me out toward the living room.
“Keep it short. You need rest. This can wait.”
“I’ll do my best.” I pause in the hallway and face him. I get on my toes to kiss his chin. “Thank you. I know you should’ve handed him in to your boss, but you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.” He looks uncertain. “But I can’t promise I still won’t.”
“I know. Thank you all the same.” I kiss him a second time. “Now, let me talk to him alone.”
“Regan—“
“No arguments. You go take a shower. It’ll be fine.”
“He almost shot you.”
“No, he shot you. Can you blame him?”
“That’s the only reason he’s not dead.”
“Wonderful. Go shower, you stink.” I push myself away from him and stagger on. Liam lets out a frustrated grunt, but in the end he doesn’t follow.
I find my brother tied to a chair near the windows. His head is slumped forward and I think he’s asleep. His chest rises and falls steadily, and there’s a clump of dried blood on his cheek. I sit at the edge of the couch a few feet away and watch him.
How did we end up here? What was Luke thinking, trying something like this? It makes no sense. He spent his whole life trying to please our father, trying to be like our old man the best he could, and mostly failing, but still. He wanted to be a part of the Whelan clan more than anything.
And now, he’s a traitor.
“Regan?”
I remain very still as Luke’s head lolls. He picks it up and fixes on me, squinting through one black and swollen eye. Despite the bruising, it doesn’t look like he’s been injured too badly.
“You’re alive. That’s good.” I smile weakly at him. “I wasn’t sure you would be. You know, after you tried to shoot me.”
The color in his face pales. “No, never, I would never try to hurt you, I swear. I saw Liam behind you and I panicked.”
The fear in his eyes reminds me so much of him as a little kid. It kills me, seeing my brother like this, bloodied and tied to a chair, but I don’t move to let him go.
“What were you thinking, Luke?”
The question comes out heavy from my mouth and it holds so many layers. The gun, the blackmail, everything: what the hell was he thinking? I’m desperate to understand, because I can’t keep going on thinking my brother would do something so terrible without a good reason. If he says money, if he says power, maybe that’ll make me think less of him, but at least I’ll understand. Right now, he’s a black box and it’s killing me, this strange liminal space of not knowing and also being afraid to find out.