“Listen to yourself,” Brody say. He shakes his head. “If you wanted to kill her, then you should’ve done it a long time ago. You didn’t, did you? Because you didn’twantto.” He grits his teeth. “Me? I know better. I always have. And if she wants to die, then it should beherchoice. Not your violent whims. Not some sexual fantasy.” He hunches his shoulders, ready to tackle me. “She’s not a dead girl that you can play with like a fucking doll. She’s a person, Blaze. You can’t control her.”
Brody’s anger is real. Palatable. This isn’t only about Ren to him. It’s about our mother. The fact that I killed her when he told me to wait.
He’s right. I can’t control Ren.
But it doesn’t matter.
I punch him, my knuckles cracking against his skull in a loud pop. He crashes against the wall, the shock radiating through his shoulders.
Ren stirs, whimpering from the other room. I hold my breath, waiting to hear her next sound.
In, and out. Her calm breath.
Brody holds his jaw, bracing himself. I look down at him. Anger pierces through his expression, but mine is far stronger. I’ve never hit him before. When we were younger, I swore I would never do that to him, even though I was jealous of him. We had been through enough already. Even when we had our disagreements, we were in this shitty life together.
Now, I wonder why I waited so long.
The need to see Ren calls to me. I want to guard her sleeping formmorethan I want to kill Brody.
Ren is a person. Brody is right about that. But that’s not his problem.
It’s mine.
“Get the fuck out of here before I kill you,” I warn.
Brody runs, scampering off like a cockroach. His car roars away. I stand outside of the bedroom in the doorway, watching Ren sleep. My temples pound, sweat pouring off of my cheeks. I don’t leave her side.
Everyone lives. Everyone dies. Nothing matters. These are the same lines I’ve told myself for years, justifying my actions. Forcing the world to make sense.
I can’t stand it anymore.
Ren’s death ismychoice. I won’t let anyone get in the way of that.
Not even her.
Chapter32
Ren
My head pounds,the pain explosive, like a hammer pulverizing my skull. I turn my head, and the pain follows me. I blink.
A nasal spray lies on the nightstand. Wood-paneled walls surround me.
A throat clears. I shift my head, my temples pulsing. Blaze rests against the doorframe, his arms crossed. White hair disheveled. His face sunken, as if he hasn’t slept or eaten in weeks.
I blink rapidly. Trying to understand. When did I get to Blaze’s house?
“Took shit into your own hands, huh?” he says.
Then I remember.
Blaze surrounded by light. The chain. The lozenge.
“I overdosed,” I whisper.
“Seems that way,” Blaze mutters. “My brother came to rescue you, like the fucking savior that he is.”
I gnaw on my bottom lip, the skin tender and raw.