Burn (Virtues & Lies 1)

I know not to look at the person on the bed, something tells me I’m going to need to steel myself for what’s about to greet me.

“Hey, are you ready to wake up yet, lazy bones?”

Looking up at Leo, I avert my gaze so that it avoids the person on the bed. His face is soft and filled with hurt, but at the same time there’s a shadow in his profile that tells me he is still that violent and reckless man that exploded in the lift.

“You need to wake up, Kit, Mum needs you to.”

Let me make you understand how lucky you are.

I have no choice but to look at the man on the bed, when I do, the dam breaks.

The tears burst from my eyes in painful streams and I am equal parts horrified and angry. My chest twists like a wet rag being rinsed dry.

This is his brother; it could have been me too.

I already knew that, but none of my imaginings could have prepared me for this.

Kit’s head is wrapped in thick bandages with half of his face so swollen that you can’t tell whether his features are in the right places. The other half isn’t as bad but it’s still puffy and covered in deep purple bruises and weeping welts. A large tube is coming out of his mouth and a smaller one is going into his nose.

I’ve never met him, or seen him before, but I’d say he is unrecognisable. With his neck in a brace and his arms awkwardly balanced on slings on either side, his body looks disjointed. And although I can’t see what else is going on underneath the blankets, I don’t think it gets better, and I can’t cope with any more either.

Urging me forward with his hand, he asks, “Is this what you want, Cassandra?”

He doesn’t look at me, but the impassiveness of his voice is chilling enough that I know he’s struggling to hold himself together. Moving closer to him, until I’m right beside him at the foot of the bed, I refuse to dry my tears. He’s right, it’s the people that put them there that should be wiped from the face of this Earth. They grow heavier as I carry on looking at Kit, much like the guilt and horror swimming in the pit of my stomach.

No wonder he’s so angry with me. He tried to protect me, he’s still trying, and I keep fighting him on it, when I should be fighting with him.

But the thought of him getting hurt trying to protect me? It petrifies me.

What if he ends up here? I’ll be the one standing in this very spot, alone.

If my tears were already heavy, they’re torrential now.

“Go on, Buttercup, cry. Cry for him.” His voice is sharp, and I won’t even chance a look at him because I know that what I’ll find on his face is so much worse than the scene in front of me.

“He deserves your tears. Your fight. My fight.”

“What happened?” I choke.

“Ask Jack,” he snarls. Jack?

“What did he do?”

“That selfish motherfucker snitched. He saw us at the house party, he knew what I was doing…”

Moving away from me when I reach for his hand, he rounds to Kit’s bedside. His beautiful green eyes waterlogged.

“I should’ve blown that fucker’s brains out when I had the chance. He should be a lifeless corpse. Unrecognisable to the world.”

“Stop it!” Breaking, my command is weak, and I hate that I’m not like him.

“Stop?” Bitter indignation soils his voice. “Do you think they stopped when Kit begged them to? Do you think they gave him the chance to beg? Do you think they’ll stop when you beg? They won’t!”

Leo’s face is contorted into a furious grimace and although his words are wet, there aren’t any tears in his eyes now. Only pure, molten hatred.

“Look at him, my brother, he did nothing wrong. He was loyal to a fault. Now? He’s lying in this bed lucky to make it another minute, let alone another day. The bullet might have missed his brain, but the damage is just as bad.” His lips twist, and he bites the side of his mouth. “He might not wake up, if he’s lucky to, he might not know who he is…our mother…”

Him.