Never crossed my mind the sorry son of a bitch would go to my house while I was at his, though.
“Brant?” she prompts since I haven’t answered her previous question. Then her frown deepens as she looks me over. “Are you wearing Theo’s coat?”
I had to wear Theo’s coat. I drove Theo’s car, wore Theo’s coat—in case anyone nearby was an early riser and saw me coming into the house this morning, they needed to think I was their neighbor when spotting me from a distance.
Now it’s all fucked up, though. My plan hinged on Bri being in bed, and here she stands, more awake than I am.
Her frown transforms into a full-on scowl as she comes farther into the room and starts to approach the computer monitor. “What is that you’re writing?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” I say, standing up real quick so I can block her view. Putting a hand on her shoulder, I try to walk her back out of the room. “Why don’t you go back upstairs and get some sleep? You look tired, and I know you didn’t sleep much last night.”
Swatting my hand off, she pushes past me and rushes over to the computer.
Fuck.
I let my head fall back and I rake my fingers through my hair. It only takes her a moment of reading to realize what I was doing then she turns back to me, her face a mask of horror. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
I open my mouth without knowing what I’m going to say, but before I have a chance, she flies at me and starts beating on my chest.
“Brantley Morrison, you promised! You promised!”
I tighten up on instinct when she starts hitting me, but I don’t want to inadvertently hurt her, so I don’t try to stop her.
“You promised you wouldn’t do anything! You said I could talk to you. I trusted you,” she shouts as she pounds her fists against my chest even harder.
“Shhh, Bri,” I say, trying to reach around to pat her back and calm her down. “You’re gonna wake the boys.”
“Fuck you, Brant,” she says, pulling back and staring at me like I’m an absolute monster.
“Bri, I didn’t…” I sigh, trailing off, because I don’t know how to explain that this has nothing to do with what she told me last night. I know the main reason she doesn’t like to complain to me about Theo is because she knows there’s a sliver of a chance I might actually kill the sorry bastard if he caused her too much heartache. It’s fucking Brandon all over again, except she had kids with this sorry sack of shit.
When I left her house last night, she wouldn’t let me go without making me swear up and down that despite all she’d told me about her fight with Theo, I wouldn’t harm a hair on his head.
I made that promise, but then about ten minutes later Alyssa called me and all bets were off.
Obviously, Bri doesn’t know about that.
“You didn’t what?” she demands, her face all red from the onslaught of tears wetting her cheeks. She manages to look hopeful, though, like maybe I’ll tell her I didn’t hurt the sorry bastard and he’s just sleeping off a hangover at my house or something
I run a hand through my hair again, not knowing what to say. After a pause that hangs between us for an eternity, I tell her, “Look, Bri, there are things you don’t know, and you’re better off not knowing, but—”
“Just answer me this: did you kill him?”
I just stare at her, at a loss for words.
“Is he dead?” she shrieks.
“Bri, come on, stop yelling.” I look over my shoulder then sigh and turn back to her.
“You’re unbelievable,” she says, shaking her head at me. “You’ve always been a lot of things, Brant, but a liar isn’t usually one of them.”
“I’m not trying to lie to you, Bri. I’m just trying to protect you,” I tell her honestly.
Barely managing words through her clenched teeth, she demands, “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t need protecting? That maybe I’m a big fucking girl and I can take care of myself? Did that ever cross your mind, Brant?”
I am way too fucking tired for this.
I don’t want my sister to hate me again like she did for a while after Brandon, but hell, what am I supposed to say to her?
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly; it’s all I have.
Her eyes narrow with hatred. “No, you’re not. You hated him with a passion.”
My eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “Yeah, because the bastard hurt you all the time. What, did you expect me to like him? I love you, Bri. It pisses me off watching someone treat you the way he did.”
Scrubbing at her tears with the palms of her hands, she shakes her head at me. “You had no right.”