Page 140 of Back to Willow

Not?Not what?

I should go after her, and fuck, I want to! But my body refuses to hear my brain, staying rooted in place.

Dumbfounded.

It takes me a second, a second too long to put the pieces together as snippets of what she’s told me fit together. All of those times she was afraid to tell me such an important part of everything, afraid I’d hate her alongside her need to try and find the proper way to tell me—whatever it was. And just today…the way she told me she wouldn’t do anything like that to me, not willingly.

Not willingly!

I spin, facing my brother, and his gaze is already locked on mine. He looks gutted…like he’s been carrying the weight of the world around his shoulders–no.

He looks guilty.

My vision turns red as all the information falls into place. That protectiveness that stays hidden most of the time takes over every fibre of my body as my brain conjures cruel images of plausible scenarios.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” I roar, charging towards him.

It’s a weird state of consciousness, as for the first time, I give in to some of my darkest urges. My hands grab the collar of his shirt, slamming his back against the wall.

“Tell me,” I growl. “I want the fucking truth. What did you do to her?”

“Liam, stop.” My mother’s shouts fall on deaf ears. “He’s your brother!”

Brother?The man in front of me has been reduced to nothing in my eyes. Such a monster couldn’t be related to me. He’s all drugs and addiction, bad choices and unforgiveable actions. A dangerous criminal. At this point, there is nothing else to salvage.

“He did nothing!” my father bellows behind me. “She threw herself at him!”

A hand—probably his—grips my shoulder tightly with a harsh push backwards, and it only spurs me on, the rage bubbling to the surface as I suddenly push my arm back, elbowing whoever is behind me. A scrunching sound is followed by a grunt, and the hold on my body disappears.

On any other day, I would have cared, but not now. Years of pent-up anger and bottled-up feelings are now coming out. For so long, I had blamed her for everything that has happened, and I’m just realising now that it was directed at the wrong person all along.

Willow was raped. And my brother—my blood—was responsible for it. The perpetrator. A criminal. A fucking rapist. And my parents? They’re just as evil for knowing what transpired and not holding him accountable for his actions. Mason has been roaming around freely without suffering the consequences of what he’s done. All the while that young girl was left to fend for herself in this cruel world.

Coming to this conclusion, it’s placing me on the edge, just on the brink of losing control.

“Did you force yourself on her?” The heaviness in the words floats around us as he gulps.

The way he looks away is enough to give me the answer. And while it’s what I expected, it’s absolutely not what I want. Still, I push through because I need to hear it from his mouth.

“Yes or no?” My forearm slides up, pressing against his neck.

“Y-yes,” he stammers, his eyes red and shiny with tears.

I knew it.

“What did you do to her?” Mason starts to choke, but I don’t budge.

This iswhyshe was so afraid to tell me who did it. I get it now because…how would she be able to break it to me? “Hey Liam, I know he looks like you, but that’s because he can also be your nephew.”

“I want to hear you say it,” I growl.

“Liam, stop this madness,” my mum shrieks again.

“Madness?” I shout. “Madness is the fact that you never cared to stop him before, and you think he’s worth defending now?”

“I finally convinced your father to help him–”

“You should have helped him then,” I shut her off. “Maybe then, he wouldn’t have done what he did.”

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