“It sounds like an abusive relationship just from his actions. Not taking no for an answer, turning up uninvited …”
“I don’t think he’d ever been physically violent with Anders before, but it was last chance after last chance with him. There were a lot of red flags in his behaviour that both Anders and I ignored. One time we went to a friend’s party, and Kyle hated that I was hanging around them the whole night. Like he wanted to show off the fact Anders was there with him, as if Anders were a trophy.”
It all seemed innocent enough. We chalked it down to Kyle being a little possessive, and I think Anders liked the whole being claimed by a caveman thing.
“If we’d known how fast it could escalate …”
“That’s the thing with abusive relationships,” Reed says. “You don’t suspect your partner of so many years—someone who’s supposed to understand you and protect you—to be the one who hurts you. Even with the signs, it’s something you’re blinded to until it actually happens and shows you the reality of how bad it’s gotten.”
Protectiveness I’ve only ever felt for Anders stiffens my spine. “You sound like you speak from experience.” And if I’m not angry enough as it is, an urge to find out who hurt Reed and—
He sees the anger rising in me and puts his hand on my forearm to calm me. “No. My ex may be a selfish asshole, but he was never abusive. My sister had this thing with this guy in high school. I didn’t understand it until I went to uni and took a semester of child psychology focusing on domestic relationships. It was more about learning to look for signs of abuse while teaching—like Davis asking for your brother last week.”
“The day Anders was attacked … When I didn’t hear from him, I assumed he chickened out.” I let out a humourless laugh. “When my brother lay almost dying, I was in bed with my girlfriend, thinking Anders was a pussy for not breaking up with Kyle. Some twin connection, huh? I should’ve known, dammit.”
“What happened to him wasn’t your fault.”
“You sound just like him. And his therapist.” No matter how many times I hear it, I can’t help feeling like I’m somewhat to blame. Not for Kyle’s actions but for not taking it as serious as it was. When Anders didn’t call, I should’ve known something was wrong with my brother.
Reed’s brow furrows.
Thinking about this all again has the memories flashing through my brain on repeat. I lean forward and put my head in my hands. “I can’t believe I’m back here again.”
I’m sitting on the same stairs I walked up while having a police officer on each side of me. While Anders was at the hospital, I was here being interrogated as to why I’d want to kill my brother.
“They thought I did it,” I whisper. “They thought I tried to kill my own fucking brother.” I was stuck in an interrogation room for two hours before they realised they had the wrong guy. The whole time I sat there telling them it wasn’t me, I took their hard questioning and believed I deserved it for not getting to Anders sooner.
“Please tell me they arrested the guy?” Reed asks.
I nod. “Kyle ended up turning himself in. Claims he lost it, it wouldn’t happen again, blah, blah, blah. He only got a few years. He’s eligible for parole next year.”
“Shit.” Surprising me, Reed brings me in for a hug and forces my head down on his chest. I quietly sob, no longer caring about the whole being a grown-ass man bawling his eyes out.
A booming voice travels across the parking lot. “This is where he bloody gets it from.”
Reed stands up so fast, I’m almost knocked off balance. “Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan.”
Wait … Davis Sullivan.
Motherfucker.
I stand too and lunge for the guy who put bruises on his fifteen-year-old kid, but Reed holds me back.
“You two faggots tell my boy it was okay to be like you?”
I push to get to him again, but Reed is strong for a guy two inches shorter than me. Granted, I could get out of his hold, but to do it, I’d have to hurt him, and I don’t want to do that. My head swivels to meet Davis’s mother’s gaze, and she at least has the decency to hang her head in shame.
“You brought him here?” I hiss at her.
“The policeman on the phone said to bring him in if he’ll come willingly; otherwise, they’d send a squad car.” Her voice, so meek, gains absolutely no sympathy from me.
“If anyone should be arrested, it should be you two perverts.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“I taught my son how to be a man today.”
“By beating him?” Reed asks incredulously.
“Beating,” the man scoffs. “It was a tap. A lesson. I barely touched the kid.”