Fall Back Skyward (Fall Back #1)(111)

I’ve never seen Cole like this. Rage is splashed across his face, dispatched into Josh with every punch that connects with his ribs.

Punch after punch. He doesn’t defend himself. He lets his brother hurt him. Josh is on his knees.

Then I’m running forward, I grab Cole’s shirt from the back and yank hard. He whirls around, his eyes black with fury.

“Please stop!”

He doesn’t. He jerks away, ready to unleash his wrath on Josh. This time, Josh’s hand shoots up and grasps Cole’s. Blood runs down the side of his face but he doesn’t let him go.

“Go!” Josh yells. “Get out of here, Cole!”

His orders don’t make sense until I hear sirens piercing the air. I look around, searching for my father and see him pacing at the church doors with a phone stuck on his ear.

The bastard called the police.

Recognition hits me hard. This was a trap and some sort of revenge rolled up into one. Megs was right. Josh and I are just pawns in my father’s twisted game. The ultimate prize is getting rid of Cole completely.

I grab Cole’s shirt again, pummel my fists on his back until he whirls around and glares at me.

“You need to leave. The police are coming.”

His chest heaves with heavy breaths. Fury rolls across his coiled muscles. He glances around, then back at me. Understanding dawns on his face.

“I hate you.” His words punch me in my chest, tearing a hole in my heart. “I wish I never met you.” He turns to face Josh. “And you. . .my brother.” He sneers. “I hate both of you.”

The sirens are closer.

“Please leave. Now!”

The fire in his eyes dies, replaced by a dreary gray.

I did this to him.

I broke him.

I watch as he turns and sprints down the aisle and through the door that leads to the pastor’s chambers.

I straighten, collecting the slips of dignity and confidence I have left and inhale deeply.

I need him as far away from my father’s hands as possible. For now.

His parents arrive fifteen minutes later, panic written all over their faces. When they arrived at the prison, an officer told him that Cole hitched a lift in a delivery truck.

That evening, I lay in bed, my body curled as I hold in the pain, knowing I deserve it. I press a hand on my stomach, rubbing it in circles.

Cole. Oh my God. Cole please forgive me. I chant the words over and over, seeking absolution in them.

The bed dips as Josh climbs on it, his face a mask of sorrow that mirrors mine. We spent the past two hours apologizing, talking, me crying as I tried to pick up the pieces of whatever was left of my heart after I threw it away. Now there’s nothing left to say, yet my chest aches with words I still need to say.

He lies beside me and takes my hands in his. He leans forward and kisses my forehead, and then pulls me to him, tucking my face into his chest. He just holds me and I weep for Cole. For our unborn babies. The lives I’ve destroyed and saved.

Most of all, I cry because I can feel myself losing balance again and I need to fight hard to keep my sanity.





I FEEL AS THOUGH SOMEONE hit my ribs with a hammer.

Jesus f*cking Christ.

I knew Stephen hated me. He’d tried to hurt me several times when he sent his thugs to beat me up in prison.

The man was f*cked up in the worst way. How could he hate his brother so much he’d transfer those feelings on anyone that remotely reminds him of his own flesh and blood? This shit is incomprehensible. He’d succeeded in separating us just like he’d been doing since they moved in next door.

I sit back on the chair, drop the beanie on my lap and drag my fingers over my head.

“Nick told me your father left.”

“He did when I turned twenty-two. No one knows where he is.”

I bite my bottom lip, studying the woman sitting in the corner of the couch, watching me with cautious eyes. God, she went through so much in her life. She wasn’t lying when she said she wanted to protect me.

Dropping her gaze to the ground, she takes in a deep breath and seems to hold it for ages. She exhales and lifts her gaze to mine. Her tiny hands clench into fists, causing veins to pop out beneath her skin. I’m overpowered by the instinct to go to her, comfort her. She was too young to disobey a father who held all the cards in his hands. One wrong move would have either been the end of me, or have her family ripped out from under her feet. Her mother and sisters, people she’s been fighting hard to hold onto.

Shit.

Watching pain tearing through her is like someone is slowing ripping a bandage off old, deep wounds inside me. Wounds that have barely healed.

But I can’t. Not yet. I have a feeling if I go to her, I will end up doing more than comforting her and that’s not the point right now.

I shift on the seat and turn my body so that I’m directly facing her this time because I want to see her truth when I ask her the next question, something I’ve wondered about since I returned back home a few weeks ago.

“Your father left. You stayed married to my brother, even though you said you didn’t love him. At least not the way a wife should love her husband. Shouldn’t you have put an end to the whole charade already?” She opens her mouth to speak, but I quickly put my hand up to stop her. “I have nothing other than respect and love for my brother. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, he was a martyr. I will never understand why he went to that extent, knowing he’d be bound to a woman who doesn’t feel the same way he does. Why did you stay?”