Until You (Fall Away Series)(9)

“What?” I snapped into the phone.

“Hey man, I’ve been trying to reach you all day,” my brother, Jax, said, a little muffled.

My breathing wasn’t slowing down, and my brother didn’t need me like this. “I can’t talk right now.”

“Fine,” he barked. “Screw you then.” And he hung up.

Goddamn, son of a mother f*cking bitch.

I squeezed the phone, wanting it to break.

My eyes snapped up to Madoc who shook his head, threw the shop cloth onto the work bench, and walked out of the garage.

“Shit,” I hissed, dialing Jax’s number.

If I needed to be level for anyone, it was my brother. He needed me. After I’d gotten away from my father two summers ago, I’d reported the abuse. My brother’s, not mine. He was taken out of that house and put into foster care, since his mother couldn’t be found.

I was all he had.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, not even waiting for him to say ‘hello’ when he picked up. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”

“Pick me up, will you?”

Yeah, not with the spark plugs yanked out of my car. But Madoc was still here with his car, probably. “Where are you?” I asked.

“The hospital.”





“Excuse me, can I help you?” a nurse called behind me as I barged through the double swinging doors. I was sure I was supposed to check in with her, but she could shove her clipboard up her ass. I needed to find my brother.

My palms were sweaty, and I had no idea what had happened. He’d hung up after telling me where to find him.

I’d left him alone—and hurt—once before. Never again.

“Slow down, man,” Madoc chimed in behind me. “This will go a lot faster if we just ask someone where he is.” I hadn’t even noticed that he’d followed me in.

My shoes squeaked on the linoleum as I jetted down the corridors, flinging back curtain after curtain until I finally found my brother.

He sat on a bed, long legs dangling off the side and his hand on his forehead. I reached for his ponytail and yanked his head back to look at his face.

“Ow, shit!” he grunted.

I could’ve been gentler, I guess.

He squinted up at the fluorescent lighting as I took in the stitches on his eyebrow.

“Mr. Trent!” a woman’s voice barked behind me, but I wasn’t sure if it was to me or Jax since we both shared our father’s name.

“What the hell happened to him?” I wasn’t asking Jax. Others were to blame.

My brother was just a kid, and while he was only a little over a year younger than me, he was still younger.

And he’d had a life of shit.

His mother was Native American and barely legal when she’d gotten pregnant with him. While he sported our father’s azure blue eyes, the rest of his looks came from her.

His hair was probably black, but it looked a shade lighter and fell halfway down his back. Certain pieces were braided and then everything was brought back to a ponytail mid-skull. His skin was a couple of shades darker than mine, and everything was overshadowed by his bright smile.

A woman behind me cleared her throat. “We don’t know what happened to him,” she snapped. “He won’t tell us.”

I hadn’t turned away from Jax to see who I was speaking to. It could’ve been a doctor or a social worker. Or the police. It didn’t matter. They all looked at me the same way. Like I deserved a spanking or something.

“I’ve been calling you for hours,” Jax whispered, and I sucked in a breath when I noticed that his lip was puffy, too. His eyes were pleading. “I thought you’d be here before the doctors called them.”

And then I knew it was a social worker, and I felt like a dick. He’d needed me today, and I’d screwed it up again.

I stood between him and the woman, or maybe he was hiding from her view. I didn’t know.

But I did know that Jax didn’t want to go with her. My throat tightened, and the lump inside swelled so damn much that I wanted to hurt someone.

Tate.

She was always my victim of choice, but she was also in every good memory I had.

My brain flashed with the one place that was untouched by hatred and despair.

Our tree. Tate’s and mine.

I briefly wondered if Jax had anywhere he felt safe, warm, an innocent.