Something crossed over his face, something dark, something jaded. I didn’t give him a chance to respond.
“I’ve carried it with me. All these years. I...” I bit my lip, unsure of how he would react. “It was what I used.”
“Used how?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
He wanted me to say it. I wondered if he knew how similar he was to Cash. Cash never let me off easy. He pushed me to be more. To stand up for myself. He encouraged me to live and feel and grow.
“Used for what, Rose?”
My brother stood on the other side of the room, separated only by the bed we each stood beside. His eyes were sharp as steel. The rich brown we shared with our mother, now dark and angry. He knew what I used it for, but he wanted me to admit it.
He wanted me to confess.
I knew he wasn’t angry with me. Not really. Thorne was angry with himself. He was still blaming himself for being taken and for leaving me alone on the streets.
“It’s not your fault,” I said. I had gotten good at avoidance. Hell, I’d been doing it for more than half a decade.
“Used it for what, Rosebud?”
He wouldn’t let it go. I knew that. Like I said, Thorne was stubborn. He let me change the subject earlier. But he wouldn’t now. He would push until I gave him what he wanted.
He wasn’t trying to hurt me. I knew that. Dr. Dunaway had stressed the importance of taking accountability for our actions. I made the decision to hurt myself. I made the decision to use the knife Val bought for my brother.
Taking a deep breath, I looked my brother in the eye and told him what he already knew. “It was the knife I used to cut myself.”
Thorne closed his eyes. His breathing picked up as he tried to settle whatever he was feeling. I knew he wanted to yell at me. He did that a lot when we were kids. Any time I did something he didn’t like, he would lose his temper and scream at me.
I could see a battle being waged inside him. The tension in his shoulders. The deep breaths as he tried to control his anger. When he opened his eyes, what I saw broke me.
He moved fast. He didn’t go around the bed, he climbed over it until he was standing in front of me. He gathered me in his arms, and we held onto each other as we both cried for everything we had lost.
Every moment away from each other. Every bad thing that happened in our lives. My brother held me and cried with me, and it was the one thing I hadn’t realized I needed.
He wasn’t ashamed of me. He didn’t feel guilty. He understood me. Because he’d had his own choices to accept. Together we would battle. Holding each other up, protecting each other’s backs.
Slaying our monsters.
Chapter Thirty-One
Cash
Rose was talking to Mimic.
Earlier, she’d walked off outside to talk to Valhalla. Then, I’d watched from the bar stool I sat on, as her and Mellie bonded over shared trauma on the couch across the room. Even encouraged her to spend time with her brother without me. But I hated it all.
I wanted to be there with her. Wanted to protect her from everything. Sadness, trauma, pain, guilt, herself. The thought of her feeling anything but joy and happiness made me want to burn the world down.
This was new for me. Rachel was happy. All the time. She never showed anything but a smile. I realized now how unhealthy that was. She’d battled alone, and I hated that for her. It broke my heart thinking about all the times she must have been lost in her head, believing she couldn’t share what she was going through with anyone.
Haizley had helped me understand why Rachel didn’t tell me she was sick. Rachel was right. I would have treated her differently. I would have wrapped her in bubble wrap and kept her from living her life on her own terms.
I thought about what Rose told me about meeting Rachel. Rachel never said a word. I remembered when the flower shop opened. Remembered her bringing home flowers and putting them all over the clubhouse.
King hated it.
I think that was partially why she did it.
She loved to rile him up. Especially about Grace. Rachel and I talked about the two of them often. She couldn’t understand why neither of them could get their heads out of their asses long enough to see that they loved each other.
