Page 154 of Quinlan

This is their psychotic way of telling me they’re here to hear me scream. Here to let me be anything and anyone.

They demand it. That I finally break and roar like I should’ve done years ago.

Even if it’s my fault. Even if I brought this on our family. I still blame Damien. He lets me, and I need it. I’ll die without this meltdown.

“You’re the world’s worst fucking stalker, Damien.” My fingers tremble around the covers. It seems wrong to keep them there. Too constricting. Like this shield will limit my outburst. “Where were you when I needed you? Whenheneeded you?”

Freefalling. I’m free falling. Letting go and trusting they’ll catch me.

Scratch that. I don’t let go. I dive into the pits of my damaged soul. I bare myself to them, shoving the covers down, hiding Rome’s arm around my middle.

I’m losing it. I’m losing it, and it’s fine. I have Damien’s bite marks on me. I have strong hands and arms on me. I’m safe, and if they hate me after this—fuck, that’s fine. I can’t hold it in anymore. I just can’t.

“Where were you the day my parents thought it was such a great goddamn idea to leave Blake and me at the pool by ourselves?” Where Dad worked, where it’d been fun and safe up until it wasn’t. “Nowhere. You were nowhere. No one was. No one cared, you included.”

The pool was closed to the public in the evenings. Dad was a lifeguard, so he could go in anytime. Hanging in the cool waters with our parents on hot summer nights was a treat. That’s what I remember. Fun, just fun.

Clear blue pool water. The scent of chlorine is sharp in my nose. Pool lights illuminate the depths beneath me. My five-year-old body is secured in a pink flamingo float. I was old enough to get to swim in the ring one. I loved kicking my feet in the water.

Thirteen-months-old Blake was sprawled inside a turtle floatie at my side. His adorable laugh echoed all around us. He laughed harder when I’d splash a few droplets at him.

He was the cutest little thing.

“We’ll be right back, kids.” I mimic my mother’s voice. Her intoxicated voice. “Look after your brother, Quinlan.”

Rome growls. Damien’s fingers dive into my hair, and Liam holds me as if I might disappear. I won’t. There’s no turning away from this, now that it’s everywhere. I can’t lock it back anymore.

“They left us. They disappeared into lifeguards’ changing rooms for grown up time. To fuck, I know that now. And I… I-I was alone. You weren’t there, Damien.” My tears are hot rivers running down my cheeks. Down my chin. Over Rome’s hand and down to my chest and breasts. “You said you stalked me and what? Where were you? Where were you? Where. The. Fuck. Were. You? What was more important than making sure Blake doesn’t roll off his floatie and drown?”

Daggers. I’m throwing daggers at Damien, at the three of them. This is wrong. This is fucked up. They were just kids themselves. They had their own shit to deal with.

They couldn’t have been there for me 24/7.

I can’t stop.

It’s not them I’m blaming. Not really. It’s myself.

The men’s eyes remain on mine. Rome is behind me, but he’s watching me. I can sense it despite how hard I’m crying. How vivid the memory is.

“Theyweren’t there.” My eyes jump between Liam and Damien. Rome finally loosens his grip enough for me to turn and face him. “Why? Why? I couldn’t save him, and I tried so hard. I really tried. I swear I did.”

“I’m sorry.” Liam goes first. With his eyes never leaving mine, he crawls between my legs. Drives a hand into my hair, and Rome moves back to let him. “I’m sorry we weren’t there.”

Tremors ripple through my body. The water in the pool rippled too, when I kicked and paddled with my tiny arms, desperate to be freed from my floatie. I had to get to Blake.

Tiny bubbles signaled the end of his life.Hewas tiny.

He couldn’t swim.

Small and helpless.

Younger than Liam when the fire licked at his skin.

Too young to die.

“You shouldn’t be, Liam.” More sobs. Guilt overwhelms me and it’s hard to breathe. “I didn’t mean to blame you. Any of you. I’m sorry. So sorry. This shouldn’t have happened, but it wasn’t your fault. It’s mine. I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry, too.” A voice behind me. The sound vibrates through me. Rome’s heartbeats are strong and steady against my back. “Someone should’ve been there, damn it. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry we weren’t that someone for you.”

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