“Thanks,” we all say.
When we get back to the truck, everyone turns to me. “What?” I ask.
“You aren’t going,” Adrian says. “And before you argue, understand that I am doing this to protect you.”
“Seriously?” I ask with a deadpan expression.
“Yes, Little Dove,” he tells me. “If you freeze, even for a second, he will kill you. I know you want to be there, and I want you to be there, but we cannot risk you getting hurt.”
“What about y’all?” I snap. “What if y’all get hurt and I am just at home alone, wondering where you are?”
“We won’t get hurt, baby,” Adrian says softly.
“Just take me home,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Alania…” he starts to say.
“No. Just fucking drive. Clearly, you just don’t want me to fuck everything up. Take me home, and y’all can do whatever the fuck you want,” I say harshly. Adrian sighs and turns back to start the engine. I say nothing and sulk for the entire drive home.
When we stop in front of the house, Cian gets out so I can also. Before I can storm off, he pulls me into a hug. “I know you don’t know me well, Alania, but please know that I don’t think you are fragile. I don’t think they do either, but they are scared.”
“I appreciate that, but if they really thought that, they would have gotten out of the fucking truck to tell me that themselves.”
“I can’t argue with that, kid,” Cian sighs. I turn and walk toward the house, but stop when I hear Adrian.
“Alania,” Adrian says gently.
“What?” I shout at him.
“Can we at least get a hug before we go?” His voice is filled with emotion, and it hurts, but so does him forcing me to stay at home.
“Hug yourself, asshole. Fuck you,” I seethe. I can almost hear the heartbreak as I turn and stomp into the house.
Chapter Thirty Two
Adrian
“Hug yourself, asshole. Fuckyou,” she says with venom in her tone and tears welling in her eyes.
“Fuck,” I say with a sigh as I get back into the truck.
“She will be okay. She just needs time to cool off,” Brent says reassuringly. “She is a brat when she gets her feelings hurt.”
“Yeah, but I will take her being mad at me over going to her funeral,” I say as I drive. “The way she shut down after hearingthat video… I’m not sure she could handle hearing a gunshot in person.”
“I agree,” Raul says. “She can be mad, as long as she is alive.”
“She is a lot like her mother. It’s crazy to see,” Cian says. “Cara was so sweet and sensitive, but had a nasty temper. When she was mad, scared, sad, whatever. It came out as rage. Cormac was her calm. He helped level her out when everything got too suffocating.”
“So, we need to be her calm?” I ask.
“Yes. Pushing back will only make it worse. Her anger may be directed at you, but it’s not about you. She needs a place to funnel that rage, and she will always do it where she feels the most comfortable.”
“And that’s us,” Brent says. “She was very hot and cold with me growing up. If I was nice or went out of my way to help her or be with her, she was the biggest fucking brat. Looking back, it’s like when you go to pet a dog that has been abused its entire life. They will snarl and snap, because that’s all they know. It’s a defense mechanism. I used to get so upset with her because I didn’t understand, but now that I do… She’s been hurt so badly for so long… She needs to be anywhere but near him, even if that means sacrificing the chance to watch him pay for what he did.”
“How far of a drive is it?” Cian asks.
“About an hour,” I say. “She will hopefully be asleep by the time we get home.”
