Page 131 of The Spider & the Storm

“No,” I whispered through a lump in my throat that was making it harder and harder for me to breathe. “You didn't do anything. You couldn't—”

“I did it, Charlie. I killed him,” he whispered back, like the rapidly approaching police could hear his confession.

“No.” I shook my head. “No, no, no. You … God, you aren't a fuckingkiller. You—”

Luke and I both turned our heads abruptly toward the cascade of red, white, and blue lights flashing against the sheer curtains covering the living room window. One, two, three cop cars pulled up to the house without a single care of where or how they'd parked.

My brother reached out and grabbed my shoulders firmly in his hands. “Look at me. Right now. Look at me.”

I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to stare into his eyes and have him tell me the things I didn't want to believe were true because how the fuck could they be? I didn't want to see him, red-eyed and tear-streaked, afraid that this might be the last time I ever saw him.

God, don't make me say goodbye.

Not again.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The front door rattled against the force.

“Lucas Corbin!” shouted a voice I didn't know. “If you're in there, come out peacefully or—”

“Charlie!” Luke gritted from between clenched teeth. “Look at me!”

I did, and the moment my eyes met his, as terrified as my own, I was certain the world as I'd known it to be for the last fifteen years of my life had exploded and turned to dust.

“I love you, okay?”

Of all the things he could've said to me in that moment, that was what he'd chosen to say. That he loved me.

“I love you too,” I said, my voice strangled. “Luke, what the fuck? I don't—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Lucas Corbin!”

He looked over his shoulder and dropped his hands to his lap. “Can I tell you a secret?”

I stared at the door. “Huh?”

“I’m scared, Charlie. I’m really fuckin’ scared.”

He didn’t give me a chance to reply. On unsteady legs, he stood. He pushed his hair back and wiped his face hastily with his palms. Then, he turned and headed toward the door, holding his head high and keeping his shoulders squared. Acting every bit of the cocky son of a bitch I'd known him to be while knowing that, deep down, he was as scared shitless as he or I had ever been in our lives.

As I watched his back,Game of Throneson the TV and those goddamn lights flashing over everything in the living room, it struck like a brick to the head that I'd never see him walk through that door again.

He had killed a man. I didn't know how, and I didn't know why, but I knew it to be true.

Luke opened the door to three cops holding guns and wearing bulletproof vests. They were only doing their job, none of it was their fault, but, God, I hated them in that moment. I hated them for not giving us more time. I hated them for not letting me question my own damn brother before they could get the chance.

“Lucas Corbin?”

“Yeah,” Luke replied, pushing the door open fully and raising his hands weakly. Showing them he was unarmed.

I stood slowly from the couch and took a couple of cautious steps forward.

None of this can be real.

I don't want it to be real.

---