Semua Bab Falling For My Brother's Best Friend: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Cade"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"I grab the guy by his hair—the one trying to crawl away like the pathetic coward he is—and yank him back down. He screams as he hits the floor, scrambling to get back on his knees with the other two.Three men. All bleeding. All broken. All exactly where they deserve to be.My hands are shaking slightly, but not from fear. From adrenaline. From rage. From the fucked-up cocktail of emotions that's been building in my chest all day.Quinn said yes. She said we could go public.That should've been enough. Should've made everything better.But of course it didn't. Because nothing in my life is ever that simple.I swing the knife in my hand, watching the blade catch the dim light. The weight of it is familiar. Comforting, even. This is who I am when no one's watching. This is what I do.This is what Cole trained me to do.I point the knife at the redhead kneeling in front of me. He's already crying, snot running down his face mixing with blo

Quinn"You wanted to speak to me?"I take a seat on the couch next to Ash, popping a grape into my mouth from the bowl on the coffee table.His eyes follow the movement, then he runs a hand through his hair—a nervous gesture I've started to recognize."Yeah. I did."I raise an eyebrow, chewing. "So what is it?"A yawn escapes before I can stop it. I just got back from the most tedious constitutional law class, and my brain feels like mush. All I want to do is crawl into bed and maybe read for a bit before passing out."If you're busy, we can talk later," Ash offers."What do you mean?"He glances down at my lap.I follow his gaze. Oh. I'm holding my textbook, already halfway through the next chapter without even realizing it."Oh." I close it and set it aside. "Okay. What now?"Ash shifts slightly, his jaw working like he's trying to find the right words."I wanted to apologize," he finally says. "For the other day. With your mom."I tilt my head, waiting."I just... stood there. Did

QuinnI'm curled up in bed with my textbook, trying to focus on the words in front of me.But I keep reading the same paragraph over and over, my eyes drifting to the clock on my nightstand.12:47 AM.'Where is Cade?'I haven't seen him all day. Ash left in a panic hours ago and hasn't come back. And now it's past midnight and I'm sitting here alone, unable to shake this feeling that something is wrong.I'm about to give up and try to sleep when I hear voices downstairs. Whisper-shouting.I freeze, my book forgotten in my lap.What the hell?I slip out of bed as quietly as possible and open my door carefully, peering out into the dark hallway.The voices are clearer now—angry, urgent, but trying to stay quiet.I pad down the stairs silently, my heart starting to pound.The downstairs is completely dark except for the faint glow from outside filtering through the windows.I turn on my phone flashlight, sweeping it across the living room.Two figures near the door. One trying to pull th

CadeI light up my cigarette and lean back against the car seat, waiting for Alex to come back from the flower shop.I'm stuck in a fucking suit on such a sunny day because two people I don't even know died years ago and apparently it's their memorial.The suit is suffocating. The collar is too tight. The fabric is too thick. Everything about this feels wrong.I groan, resting my head against the seat and closing my eyes.I've told Alex a thousand times I don't want to participate in this annual ritual. Don't want to stand in front of photographs of strangers and pretend to mourn. Don't want to play the role of the grieving son.But he takes it so seriously—like he's their child instead of me or something. Like their deaths actually matter beyond the inconvenient fact that they left me behind.My mind drifts to Quinn. To this morning. To the way she looked at me before she left.'Don't screw it up.'What did that mean? What does she know? What did I do last night that I can't remember

CadeI'm alone on the ice, the way I like it.It's dark already—past practice hours, past when anyone normal would still be here. But I like being here at night. Alone. Just me and the ice and the sound of my skates cutting through the silence.Usually it helps clear my head.Usually.But for some reason tonight it's not working. My mind is still racing, still spiraling, still replaying fragments of memories I can't quite grasp.I'm bored. Restless. My skin feels too tight.I slam the puck toward the net, watching it ricochet off the post.That's when I see it.Blood.Splattered across the ice in dark, glistening pools.I blink hard, inhaling sharply through my nose.The blood disappears.Just the clean white ice again.I exhale slowly. Get it together, Cade.I slam another puck into the net, harder this time. Then another. And another.The repetitive motion should calm me. Should help.It doesn't.The door to the rink suddenly slams open and someone comes running inside.I turn, my g