“Just the two of us,” I croak, pressing myself against my door, as far from him as I can get. “Because you won’t let me do anything on my own.”
He laughs at the mere idea while turning onto the main street. Then, he rounds another corner so quickly I’m thrown against the dashboard. My wrist smarts as I brace my hands for stability. Amid the hum of the engine, I sense our speed increasing by the second until we’re peeling down the streets, heedless of the posted limit.
“On your own?” he parrots nastily. “So that you can keep ruining your life and spewing your lies?”
He cuts in front of another vehicle before darting across an intersection. My stomach lurches, threatening to jump up my throat. “Bran,” I croak. “You’re going too fast.”
God, I can’t tell if the last light he passed was even green. All I can do is grip the edge of my seat so tightly my nails bite into the leather. “Slow down!”
“You know,” he says in a chillingly calm tone. Without taking his eyes from the road, he wrenches on the wheel, weaving through the thinning traffic. “Liam said something strange the other day. About you.”
Pinpricks of alarm bite at my nerves as I race to recall just what he’s referring to—Lexi?
He doesn’t answer right away. With a shuddering jolt, the van bolts across two lanes, turning onto the highway amid a smattering of honking horns.
I can barely breathe as terror clenches my chest in a vice grip. “Bran!”
“He asked me if ‘that’ was why I’m so protective of you,” he says in that eerie tone. “What happened ‘in your past.’ He didn’t say what,” he adds. “But he didn’t fucking have to. What did you tell him?”
I choke out an answer without thinking. “N-Nothing.”
“Oh? Then why did he have that kicked puppy look on his face? The one that dumb little whores like you inspire by telling lies. What did you tell him?”
He peels down a busy lane, and I scramble to engage my seatbelt. As I shift, something firm stabs against my outer thigh. Alarmed, I swat at it, only to remember the object in my pocket. It’s been there all this time.
“Hannah,” Branden growls and—despite the chaos of the moment—I marvel at one grim fact. Any other day I’d react to the authority in his tone the way he wants me to. I’d jump. Cower. Confess.
But with Faith’s butterfly clip cradled against my palm, I’m reminded of another piece of jewelry. One that Rafe would have no interest in taking.
“Answer me, Hannah,” Branden growls. “What. Did. You. Tell. Him?”
“The truth?” I blurt, though I don’t know why it comes out as a question. Or it could be a dare. “That you’ve always looked out for me, haven’t you? You’ve always protected me. And you’ve always been there to guide me. Control me. Manipulate me. Guilt me into being silent about the things you’ve made me do. Because it’s always my fault, isn’t it?”
An emotion flits across his face too quickly to name. His eyes dart from the road for a split second, and the van drifts dangerously toward the oncoming lane.
“Watch out!”
A truck darts out of his path, narrowly avoiding a collision.
“Truth? Don’t be ridiculous, Hannah.” He throws his head back, laughing. “What are you even talking about?”
“I’m talking about when you made me be friends with Lexi Winacott.” It’s a strange way to delve into these memories. Like ripping out a knife that’s been embedded within me for so long, I’ve deluded myself into thinking that I’d healed around the intrusion. That I could go on living with the weapon still there, buried deep.
All I had to do was ignore its existence.
But at the same time, I wasn’t just protecting myself. Everyone from my parents to the rest of the town drilled into my head that someone else always mattered more.
“She was nice to me,” I say softly, watching as the speed dial gauge ticks higher. Higher… For whatever reason, I don’t feel the fear anymore. It’s as if speaking forms a boundary between my brain and my emotions too thick for anything to puncture. The only way to maintain it is to relive these memories.
Every last one.
“You said you wanted me to have a friend, but that wasn’t it.” Even back then, he’d kept me isolated, but I had been so desperate for someone to interact with. I’d have done anything. “You had a crush on her. She was pretty—”
“Stop it, Hannah,” Branden snaps.
I stare through the windshield, seeing nothing but images of the past. “And you… Dad caught you lurking around the bathroom while I was in the shower. You took pictures of me, then. Polaroids. You kept them in a box in your room, and you always told me that you did it to protect me—”
“You’re crazy,” he snarls. “Fucking crazy. Do you hear yourself?”
But I do. For the first time in so long, I can finally hear myself speak.
“You told me to be friends with Lexi, and I was. Then you asked me to bring her to the lake, and I did. But you were there... You told me to take a walk.” I sound so detached. It’s as if I’m narrating a scene from a movie or play—not my own life. “But when I came back…”
“Do you know the damage you could do, spreading those fucking lies?” Branden demands. “Is that what you want? For me to end up in fucking prison because a little liar couldn’t keep her goddamn mouth shut?”
“You always made it sound like it was my fault,” I say, turning to look at him directly. In profile, he doesn’t even resemble the brother I’ve known. He’s a stranger, snarling over the steering wheel. “And I
