Page 183 of On a Fault Line

Now I don’t even know how to go on with the knowledge that I’ll never be back in their good graces.

Never.

Penny is the closest fucking thing I have to a home, and I am lighting my entire delusion on fire.

She’s going to hate me.

But I hate me more.

36

PENNY

I am lying in Collins’s bed when I hear rustling outside in the hallway.

“You’re back soon,” I call out, pulling myself upright and out of my protective cocoon. The blankets pool around me. “Which is good for me, because I’m super horny from you being gone.”

The door to the room flies open, and I silently pray that I’m in the middle of another nightmare—which would be much better than this fucked-up version of reality.

“What the hell, Penny!?”

Oh, no.

This cannot be happening.

What is happening?

No…

No.

“Nic!”

I grab the sheets and pull them up to my neck. What the fuck is happening? Why is he here standing in my bedroom?

Correction…Collins’sbedroom.

I’m in Collins’s bedroom.

And my brother just caught me in a smoking-gun scene.

Dammit.

“I can’t believe this,” he mutters.

“Me either.” My words are barely audible even to my own ears.

Staring into the eyes of my brother, I think I’m hallucinating. What other explanation could there be as to why he’s standing inside Collins’s apartment, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

Nic’s hands slide to the back of his neck, as he pivots his body to avoid any more awkward eye contact.

“Get dressed, Penny,” he snaps.

“What are you doing here?”

“Confirming that Graham and I hired a fucking traitor.”

His words sting, and I quiver back into the pillows that have supported my addiction to Collins for months. I’ve spent a lot of time in this bed—my safe haven—and now my brother’s presence here today has tainted my peace with being in this space.

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