The Darkest Part (Living Heartwood #1)(25)
“Bullshit. Every word out of your mouth.” He drives a hand through his hair. “I care about her. I love her, and I have forever.”
“I know . . . but, Tyler, listen—”
“No,” he snaps. “I’m not buying this crap. Suddenly she gets tits and you give a damn.”
I forcefully step back and my thighs hit the desk. If he doesn’t get out of my face, I’m going to lose my temper. “Don’t say shit like that about her.”
He laughs. “Why? Because you know her so well and you’re all of a sudden respectful of the female populace?” He shakes his head, a disgusted look on his face. “Whatever. I knew this was going to happen.” He paces in a circle, and I glance at the window, suddenly worried about the time. We’re alone now, but Dad will be home soon. We need to end this.
“What do you want from me?” I step in front of him and hold my arms out wide. “I’m sorry this happened, but I do care about her. And she cares about me . . . just in a different way than she does for you.”
He punches me.
My head snaps sideways, and pain explodes across the side of my face. I can feel the trickle of blood dripping from my nose, down my chin. I lick my lips and taste the coppery warmth. But I don’t look at him. I keep my eyes on the floor, let the rage simmer.
When I look up, he’s holding his fist. I know it had to hurt him as badly as my face throbs.
Tyler shakes out his hand, and as his anger noticeably starts to fade, his brows pull together. I glimpse guilt washing over him, only for a moment, before he hardens his face back into a mask.
“I don’t owe you shit,” he says, his voice wobbly with adrenaline. “I didn’t ask you to do that for me, and I sure as hell don’t owe you Sam for it.”
Confusion makes me forget about the pain for a second, and I screw up my face and wince. But then, with perfect clarity, his words strike home. Hurt barbs my chest, sinking its teeth in deep. “Hell, Tyler. If I hadn’t have stepped in when I did, Dad would’ve killed you.” And after what Tyler had just suffered, I wasn’t going to watch my brother get beaten to death, or self-destruct. Again. I’d just picked up the broken pieces.
It’s why Dad sent me away to boarding school. After I stood up to him and laid him out on the kitchen floor, his ego couldn’t handle that I wasn’t a kid he could knock around anymore. The only thing I regretted was leaving Tyler alone with the * for months.
“I never expected anything in return,” I continue, palming my swelling cheek. “But if you’re going to be with Sam, don’t you think she deserves the truth? Don’t you think she needs to be aware that you could decide to just check out? That’s not fair to her.” I want to take back the words as soon as they leave my mouth. “Fuck, Tyler. I didn’t mean it.”
“Fuck you.” He’s shaking now. “I’m not the twisted one, getting into fights and breaking into places, and getting stoned to deal with my issues. That’s you. I had one messed up moment. One. That doesn’t mean I’ll ever do anything to hurt her. Not like you will.” His eyes narrow. “What the hell can you possibly offer her?”
We’re both messed up, and neither one of us deserves someone like Sam. But the damage is done, and the guilt I’ve been feeling since I decided to leave home—leave my little brother behind—comes flaring back with a vengeance.
And he’s right. I won’t be here to give Sam what she deserves, what she needs from a boyfriend. And Tyler is losing the only protection he has, the only one he could ever count on. I’m taking that away from him by leaving. Now I’m threatening to take away the only other thing he loves. That makes him secure.
His Sam.
At least if he has her, I know she’ll take care of him, won’t let anything happen to him, and he won’t be alone. And Tyler being here now, punching the hell out of me, gives me hope that he’s at least fighting his own battles now.
I hold up my hands. “You win, bro. You’re right. I don’t really give a shit about her.” Each word I force out feels like razor blades slicing my throat. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”
Tyler’s eyes widen, and for a second, I think he’ll call me out on the lie. But he only nods once before he leaves. No other words between us.
I slam my palms on the desk, then snatch out the drawing. Sam’s jewel-like eyes, that’d I’d been trying so hard to capture, stare back at me, her mouth inviting—the moment right before I kissed her.
I ball the drawing up and throw it in the trash.
Sam
My eyes tear as I bite down on my lip, trying to cause physical pain to distract the ache gripping my heart.
The words in Tyler’s journal are ripping a hole through me. I’m not sure I believe him now, that he couldn’t remember where it was. He didn’t want me to read it, to know this. I shift the paperback higher, hiding the journal between the pages, and read another line.
He started writing it in middle school, and I had no idea his father . . . I can’t even think it. Anger tears through me, making my hands shake. How could their mother do nothing? How could Tyler, during all the years we knew each other, hide the abuse from me? How could I have never seen it?
My mind drifts back, remembering every bruise, broken bone, missed school day, extended vacation, and I’m so ashamed at my selfishness. At my parents’ selfishness. Being so caught up in our own lives that we never saw what was obvious. But Tyler, even from a young age, was so good with words.