CHAPTER 38
KILLIAN
I should have done more.
I should have taken a bullet for her.
But her words replay in my mind, the venom she spit that fuckingwreckedme.
She would rather be there than with us, after what we did.
Thank fucking God it was only me at the door and not all three of us. That might have ended much differently. She was smart enough to lie for us.
We don’t deserve her.
So, I barrel into the living room and launch myself at Brock, fury raging in me. His eyes are dead, devoid of emotion, as if he was expecting this.
“What thefuckdid you say to her?” I shove himhard, and he doesn’t fight back.
I land a punch, splitting his lip, and he does nothing except stumble.
Dylan’s arms are around me, pulling me back, before I can do any more damage.
“She’sgone,” I snarl, and Dylan curses.
“She’sgone, because you did something to make her pissed off, and then she found a picture ofHannah?” I scream, not caring if the entire city of Los Angeles hears me.
I’m going to kill him.
I’m going to fucking slice him open, tear his heart out, and fucking deliver it on the steps ofEdenjust for Olive.
She was mine.
She wasours.
And Brock ruined it.
“Killian, you need to calm down—”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HER?”
And finally, face bloody, Brock snaps his eyes up to mine.
“She asked for our help. I told her no.”
Dylan still holds on to me as a growl rises in my throat.
“What do you mean, she asked for help?” He demands. He’s pissed, too, but he’s always been the peacekeeper of the three of us.
And Brock, to his credit, looks like he wants to die.
The fucker deserves it, though.
“She wanted us to somehow, I don’t know,stopwhat was going on,” he mutters, his eyes downcast. “And I told her we couldn’t. That this is bigger than all of us.”
Fuck.
“And the picture?” I demand. “How the hell did she get that?”