Page 7 of Only Ever You

Me?

He thinks I had something to do with whatever this is.

I shake my head. “Deacon, I?—”

“Whatever.” He storms into the house, the doorjamb rattling as he slams the door behind him.

Pressing my hands over my ears, I try my best to shut out the yelling coming from inside as hot tears spill down my cheeks.

I’m not even sure what happened—everything’s a blur.

“Get in the car.” Lucas stalks off, and I shove my book back in my bag, stumbling as I trip over my own feet in an attempt to get to him before he drives off and leaves me.

He already has the car started, and I run to the passenger side before tugging open the door and throwing myself inside.

The tyres squeal as he takes off, and I scramble to buckle my seatbelt before my idiot brother kills us both.

“This is your fault,” Lucas grumbles. “If you’d just said something when they pulled in.”

“I don’t even know what’s going on,” I sob.

“Elise loves me.” He slams his fist on the dashboard. “Not that piece of shit she’s married to.”

My eyes widen. “What … what are you talking about?”

“Everything was fine until he caught us.”

I blink rapidly. Nothing makes sense. I’m twelve. I know about sex. I knew my brother was having sex—he’s nineteen. But with Deacon’s mother?

Nausea sweeps my body. “You … you were sleeping with Mrs Miller?”

He flicks his angry gaze at me before staring at the road again. “We love each other.”

“That’s gross.”

The brakes squeal, and the seatbelt cuts into me as I’m flung forward. Lucas’s Toyota Corolla might be old, but he babies it, and I’ve never heard the brakes make that noise.

“Get out of my car.” He grits his teeth.

“But we’re?—”

“Out!” he yells.

“Lucas, Mum and Dad are gonna?—”

“They’re already going to kill me after you let us get caught.”

“This isn’t my fault,” I wail.

“Don’t be such a baby, Pippa. You could have stopped all this, but no. I bet you had your nose buried in one of those damn books.”

The tyres squeal this time as he takes off, and I hold my sobs in, trembling as I grip the seatbelt. Is he taking us home? Ever since Lucas started driving, he’s been careful with me in the car. But now he just doesn’t care as he flings it around corners until we finally reach the safety of home.

As soon as he comes to a stop, I throw the door open before unbuckling my belt and grabbing my bag. Running to the front door, I fumble in my bag for the house key, and before Lucas can follow, I run to the back of the house—to the safety of my room.

I throw myself on my bed and let my tears flow, gnawing my fisted hand to stop myself making too much noise.

The door swings open with a snick, and a loud meow tells me Roger’s here. He always announces his arrival as if he needs to tell the world.

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