More Than Lies (More Than #1)(71)

“Oh, fuck.” He turns back to face me. “Taralynn . . . I . . .” he can’t make a full sentence. He’s in shock and worried about his sister, I’m sure. Mason may be the youngest of the three Morgan siblings, but he’s as protective of his sisters as Trent was of me.

“Go, Mase. Go see about Kylie. She needs you.” My voice comes out calm, but I feel anything but that on the inside. He steps forward, grabs the back of my head gently and pulls my forehead to his lips. Seconds later, he’s out the door. I’m left standing in the kitchen with Shawn and his brother

I don’t look in Shawn’s direction. I can’t. Thoughts of last night and this morning need to be forgotten as quickly as possible.

I realize there’s not a chance in hell of that happening, but I can’t think about it. Instead, I force my legs to move forward and walk up to Shane. Without words, he wraps me into his arms, fusing me to his chest. I feel the gush of air as it leaves his lungs. It’s as if he’s been holding everything in until this point. Maybe he has. I had Shawn last night. Who did Shane have?

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” I know he has nothing to feel sorry about the same way I’m sure he knows it too, but this is what people do in situations like this. I don’t understand it and probably never will.

“Here,” Shawn says. I pull away from Shane to turn toward Shawn. He’s holding two coffee mugs in front of us. I nod a ‘thank you’ and take the one intended for me. Immediately I take a long gulp into my mouth, letting it swirl before swallowing it down. It’s made perfect, just the way I normally love it; but I don’t taste the warm, sweet flavor.

I don’t feel numb. I almost wish I did because the pressure inside is almost too much to bear. It’s taking everything in me not to collapse and cry out, but what use would that do? It won’t bring him back. I’d do anything to get Trent back, but that won’t happen. That isn’t reality. Screw reality.

My mind reels as I quickly swallow each drop of caffeine. I set the now empty coffee mug on the island counter top.

“So, what—” Shawn’s cut off when Shane interrupts him.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone last night?” His tone is accusing and possibly laced with hurt, but Shane has always turned pain into anger. Trent once told me that a girl in high school cut him to the core. He loved this girl, and when they ended Shane was never the same. I don’t remember a lot from then. I was in sixth or seventh grade and likely wrapped up in Shawn the same way I still am today.

God, I’m pathetic. Here I am, just a few hours after learning my brother was killed, and Shawn is still first and foremost in my mind.

“Dude, I’m—” I cut Shawn off from the certain apology he was about to offer.

“He was with me, Shane.” That’s true for the most part. He wasn’t here when I first found out about my brother’s death, but when he got home . . . he made me forget, just like I asked him to do. It might have been a short reprieve, but it was the temporary relief I needed.

Shane trains his Caribbean blue-green eyes on his brother. They’re usually bright with a glow to them, but not today. He wasn’t happy with what he discovered when he walked into Shawn’s room earlier. That much was clear then, but I don’t care nor do I need his approval.

“Not exactly the type of consoling I needed you to do, brother,” he bites out the last word.

“And it is none of your damn business, brother,” Shawn’s words are an equal bite back. “So back off.”

“Shawn,” it’s a warning from Shane through clinched teeth, but I’ve had enough. I won’t have Shane ruin what happened between Shawn and me.

“Stop it, both of you.” I can’t stop the tears that pool into my eyes. Before I can swipe them away, Shawn grasps onto my bicep and pulls me into his arms. He wraps one arm around my back while the hand from his other clasps the nape of my neck. My face plants in the center of his hard chest and without getting the chance to wipe my tears away they soak into his T-shirt. He doesn’t seem to care.

The sound of the door closing followed by Pam’s voice a few moments later has me pulling away from Shawn. Before I turn, I brush the back of my hands over my wet cheeks. For a brief moment, I’m met with resistance from Shawn. My eyes go up to his, but I can’t read him. His expression is neutral and then he releases me.

“Can someone tell us what happened? We woke up to the sound of an ambulance in the neighborhood, and saw it outside the Morgan’s house.” I twist around to see Bill walking up behind his wife. They both look distraught. If I had to guess, I’d imagine I look similar. “All I could get out of Brock was that Kylie had a panic attack over Tr . . .” She pauses, unable to say my brother’s name as tears of her own fall. Bill puts his hands on her shoulders. “And none of you were answering your cell phones.”

“Tell us Brock was wrong and he isn’t . . . gone.” Even Bill can’t say the word either.

I just shake my head because saying that ugly word again will be my breaking point, I’m sure of it.

Pam’s sad eyes flick back and forth between Shane and me as if she’s unsure of whom to go toward first. Bill squeezes her shoulders before walking to Shane and pulling his son into a hug. Pam’s eyes remain on me.

“Honey.” It’s the only thing that comes out of her mouth as she raises her arms out to offer an embrace. Pam has a pet name for not only her own two kids, but also for Trent and me, too. She’s always called me Honey for as long as I can remember. It’s rare that I hear her call me by Taralynn.