Page 122 of Give Me Love

“She’s been here for a few weeks,” Bryce says.

“A few weeks?” Jace walks away from his mom and stands by the island, crossing his arms. “And when were you going to tell me?”

Bryce sighs and leans back on his heels. “She needed to get better before you saw her.”

He scoffs. “You act like we didn’t grow up in the same house, and I’m not a little boy anymore, Bryce. I don’t need closed doors and loud music.”

Bryce looks down, and I wonder if that’s what he used to do to keep Jace from seeing his parents’ shit.

“How long have you known where she was?” Jace asks.

Bryce doesn’t say anything.

Jace slams his palms down on the island. “Answer me, dammit.”

“A few years,” Bryce says.

Jace nods with a sadistic smile. “You’ve kept this from me for years?” He pushes off the counter, clearly pissed. “You’re my only one.” He walks up to his brother and jabs a finger into his chest. “You’re the one person I tell everything to and who I expected to do the same to me.”

Bryce’s hand comes out of his pocket, and he grabs his brother’s hand to keep him from stabbing his chest again.

“You lied.” Jace snatches his hand away.

“Stop,” Bryce says. “I’ve never lied to you.”

“No, you’re right,” Jace seethes. “You just chose not to tell me.” He shoulder-checks Bryce as he heads for the door, and I jump when he slams it shut.

Bryce releases a groaned sigh and looks to his mom.

“This is my fault,” she says. “I should have insisted you stop coming around. I should have left.”

Bryce’s face scrunches. “That’s your fucking answer to this? Running away?”

“Oh shit,” Mary says, turning to the stove. She quickly opens the door and grabs an oven mitt before pulling the pan out and placing it on the stove.

She sighs because it’s a little burnt on the top.

“I had you some lunch here, but it’s burnt.” She shuts the oven door. She yanks the mitt from her hand and tosses it onto the stovetop before pinching the bridge of her nose, resting one hand near the hot pan. “I don’t want to run away,” she says, looking at the stove. She turns her head toward Bryce. “I’m just sorry about all this.” She pushes away from the burnt food and the apology I’m sure was overdue before she heads up the stairs. My eyes widen, and I take in a breath of air.

What a freaking shitshow of a day.

“You hungry?” Bryce asks me as he takes a step closer to the counter.

I shrug. “We could just scrape the top off?”

He smirks. “Okay.”

I slide off the stool so I can look for plates.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I was going to look for some plates.”

“I mean here.”

I stop in my tracks. “I tried to call you, but your phone was going straight to voicemail.”

“It’s dead,” he says, pulling it from his pocket and waking over to the charger on the counter.

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