Page 46 of Hold Me Before You Go

Monica was the worst kind of woman.

Brandon continued ignoring her, and once again, his entire demeanor shifted. “She was only ten years old when we lost her,” he told me, a twinge of sadness in his voice. Brandon was a ticking time bomb, I’d noticed. His moods would switch in an instant, like he was multiple different people. It scared me, more so than Monica. She may want me dead, but if something set Brandon off, he would be the one to kill me, not her. She didn’t have the guts.

“No,” I told him. “Robert never mentioned either of you.”

“It wasn’t like she was a big part of Robert’s life,” Monica sneered. “The age gap was proof enough.”

The bomb had officially gone off.Boom.

Brandon peeled his eyes from me as he twisted his neck to look at Monica, his shoulders shaking with anger now. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he whispered. “That’s my fucking sister you’re talking about. She didn’t deserve what happened to her!”

Monica rolled her eyes and threw her arm out to the side. “Everyone gets sick, Brandon! Even children!”

A lump formed in my throat. She was sick? That’s why she died?

Brandon said nothing, glaring at her as his nostrils flared with each harsh breath he took.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Monica, being the love-sick idiot she was, didn’t bother to care. She was so wrapped up in her own hatred for me, she couldn’t see the damage she was causing, the danger she was putting herself in.

“We aren’t doing this for your sister. No one cares about her, and Robert sure as shit didn’t. He always said your parents having her was a mistake, a fluke. He said that her getting sick was the universe correcting itself.”

Oh, fuck.I swallowed the knives in my throat, ignoring the burn as I kept moving my wrists, faster now.

I needed to get out of here.

Brandon said nothing as he turned to face her fully now, flexing his fingers on the handle of the gun. My eyes lingered on it before bouncing to Monica and then to the back of Brandon’s head. She was pushing him too far. Both of them forgot about me, and I used that to my advantage, rubbing the plastic strip back and forth faster, holding my breath.

Monica continued, apparently letting out everything she had seemed to bottle up over the years. “Honestly, Brandon. You’re the fucking problem. I should’ve never even called you, because what help have you even provided? You have this weird sexual obsession with her now,” she screamed, pointing at me, and I froze, goosebumps spreading across my skin like wildfire. I braced, waiting for him to turn his attention back on me and resume what he started.

But he didn’t…

He was too far gone now.

The words were on the tip of my tongue, the part of me that valued human life.Monica, stop.

But I couldn’t. At this point, it was coming down to her life or mine, and I had to choose mine.

“You don’t even want to avenge Robert! You never fucking cared about him, and now, you’re talking about your poor little sister who died peacefully in a hospital bed—”

“Is that what you think happened, Monica?”

His words were haunting—chilling, right down to the bone, and something in his tone made my stomach twist.

Monica’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes widening as she stared up at Brandon’s face. In that moment, I was thankful I couldn’t see it. The fear in Monica’s eyes was enough for me.

“Whatever my fucking brother told you is a fucking lie. Amy didn’t die because she was fucking sick,” he pushed out in a heavy, jagged whisper, his shoulders moving with every harsh breath he took.

She said nothing and took a step back, closer to the bathroom door.

I worked my hands faster, using my arms now. My fight or flight was kicking in, and everything about this situation, from Monica anger to the gun in Brandon’s hand, was telling me to get the hell out of here.

“What? You got nothing to say, bitch?” Brandon taunted, and I looked up just in time to find his head cocked to the side, the gun shaking in his hand. “You know nothing, Monica. You were in love with the way he fucked you and the dream he promised you.”

She flinched as he took a single step forward.

“Do you honestly think he would’ve married you? If he wanted to marry you, Monica, he would’ve done so the second you both turned eighteen,” he explained, laughing at the end of it. He shook his head and raised the tip of the barrel to his temple, tapping it twice. “Think, Monica. If my brother really loved you, he would’ve built a fucking life with you.”

---