Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(103)

Banging.

A constant pound, pound, pound at my front door.

The room spun like a bitch, that bottle I’d drained sitting in my stomach like a lethal dose of poison.

Or maybe it was just the poison of what I’d done.

Sydney.

Sydney.

I could still hear my screams echoing back from the forest. I’d hunted for days, which had turned to weeks . . . months . . . years.

Listening and waiting, and for all these years, the tiniest spark of hope had remained.

The hope that she was out there somewhere, safe and happy but trying to get home.

A fool’s dream. A dream that had kept me going.

Moving.

Breathing.

Pain attacked me from all sides.

Knives stabbing deep, driving all the way through.

Piercing. Cutting.

My guts spilled out onto the floor.

I’d wanted to be a better man. Fuck, I’d wanted to be a better man.

“All I want is for you to love me.”

Nikki’s voice danced through the void of my room.

Taunting. Coaxing. Prodding.

Little Tease.

Little Tease.

I wanted to cling to it. Hold it. Cherish it.

But it hurt too bad.

More pounding echoed from the front door.

“Go away,” I shouted, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell they could hear me from my room.

Whoever it was just kept on. Becoming more and more demanding. Harder and harsher with each boom.

Someone wanted to get their ass kicked.

Scrubbing a palm down my face, I glanced at the clock.

Four in the afternoon.

Fuck.

I should have gotten up.

Gone to the station.

Demanded answers.

Hunted more.

Hopelessness wrapped around me.

Chained to bricks and stones that dragged me down into the blackest abyss.

What the fuck good would it do?

I had nothing left to find.

Nothing left to give.

I hadn’t checked in downstairs. Had no clue if the shifts were manned. If the bar was running smoothly or if everything had gone to hell.

Thing was, that bar could burn to the ground with me in it, and I wouldn’t even blink.

Because I was already in hell.

A brutal, unrelenting hell.

Another round of pounding.

I did my best to keep the rush of fury in check, but my blood was already boiling.

At myself. At the world. At whoever had done this to my sister.

Pain clutched my stomach when I let the idea slink into my mind. Swore that it physically shredded my insides.

Still couldn’t process it. Didn’t want to.

Couldn’t stop it.

It was the only thing I could see.

Blood.

Dirt.

Bones.

A cry raked from my lungs.

More pounding.

I staggered out that way, careening across the floor, ready to tear into any poor fucker who was waiting on the other side.

I peered through the peephole.

Rex.

Motherfucker.

That was a whole new layer I couldn’t process.

Couldn’t stomach.

A fresh round of hatred went skating through my veins. Boiling over.

“Not sure you want me to let you in here.”

“Need to talk to you,” rumbled through the wood.

“Not exactly up for chit chat.”

Because what the fuck was he going to say?

“Not going anywhere until you open this door, so you might as well open up.”

“Then you’re going to be there all night.”

“God damn it, Ollie, this isn’t a fucking game. Open the door. I need to talk to you.”

Rage had me twisting the lock and flinging the door open.

“You got something to say?”

Bitterness bled out.

Hurt right behind it.

Rex stood in my doorway.

Dark bags under his eyes. Hair a complete mess.

Like he hadn’t slept for a second last night.

Ridden with guilt.

Good.

Warily, he glanced up at me. “Deserve for you to hate me, Ollie. I should have told you a long time ago.”

Sharp laughter bounced from the walls. “You should have told me? Told me what? That you were fucking my little sister? That the two of you had something going on that night? That you knew where she went?”

I moved to get in his face, words flying, razors on my tongue. “Is that what you’ve got to tell me?”

He shoved me.

It was enough to knock me back a foot.

He jabbed his finger against my chest. “You want to blame me, Ollie? Blame me. Fine. If you think I haven’t been blaming myself for all these years, you’re a fool.”

My teeth ground as I got back in his face. “Yeah, you made me a fool. Keeping this from me? Are you kiddin’ me, Rex? You were supposed to be my best friend. I trusted you with her, and you were the one I should have been protecting her from.”

Rex stalked deeper into my loft, hands ripping at his hair, growls coming from him like he was the one who was about to lose all control instead of me.

He whirled back around. “I fucking loved her, okay?”

He gasped, like saying it was met with gutting relief.

“I loved her, and you made it plenty clear that I couldn’t. That any guy who even looked at your sister was getting his ass kicked. Tell me how the fuck we could contend with that?”