Page 33 of Trapped: Between Sky And Wind

Skeptical, Ethan frowns. “How do you know?”

“Bren never…never against my will…” I choke. “And, otherwise…”

“Sit down. Please.” Even Ethan seems to have recovered and can talk to me normally again.

I flop down into the chair because, at the moment, I can’t escape anyway.

Ethan gestures for Liam to leave his seat, so Liam returns to the bed and plops down. Ethan sits on the edge of the table. “I don’t care what you think. I say you need help, so I’ll make sure you get it. I’ll also make certain this Brendan never comes near you again.” We stare at each other, but we’re not on a level playing field because he’s elevated. “I’ve never been more serious about anything, Louisa. We need to talk about everything that happened to you. You need to work that out.”

I clench my hands under the table, not saying anything because I know there’s no point in arguing with him. Ethan won’t change his mind in 133 years, so I have to play along now or I’ll never be able to get away from them.

“Your love is a disease. But it can be healed. We can do it.”

Yes, we will, I think sarcastically. Hopefully, Bren understands that I didn’t run away, that I was forcibly taken by my brothers. Imagining him believing I’d run away from him turns my stomach.

“Can I at least text him?” I ask.

Ethan’s face darkens and his eyes flash. “No contact. Never again. Think of it like a sober alcoholic…”

“But he will…”

“I really don’t give a damn what happens to him!” he cuts me off harshly.

Oh my God! First, he hits me so hard that I see stars and now he is abusive. The signs are pointing to a storm—I can only go with the flow. “Okay,” I give in quickly to reassure him I’m cooperating. “Whatever you say.”

He laughs as bitterly as only Bren does. “Don’t take me for a fool! I know you better than you know yourself. I see exactly what you’re thinking.”

“This isn’t a game, Louisa,” Avery now interjects. Wow, he called me Louisa, too! He’s hardly ever done that! Not him! He still sits at the table like a pastor, even if his undershirt doesn’t exactly look like a robe. “We even considered selling the house.”

“The house?” I echo, confused. “Our house? Mom and Dad’s…how could you even consider that?” Again, I feel like everything is falling apart and I can’t keep it together.

“So he can’t find you again and you’re far away from him. We could move to Tennessee or Montana. Iowa too, if you like. The farms for sale are cheap and Ethan and I have gained enough experience to run our own. If we sell the house, we would have solid seed capital.”

Stunned, I tap my forehead with two fingers. “Buy a farm?” I instinctively think of Bren’s dream of the little blonde girl and the dark-haired boy playing tag in the wheat field. “How can you even think of selling the house? Dad will roll over in his grave.”

“I’m sure Mom and Dad would have wanted it that way, especially when it’s the only way to protect you from yourself.” Ethan crosses his arms over his chest. “I already have a buyer.”

“What?” I jump up again, horrified.

“Old Mr. Johnson has shown interest for some time.”

“Our neighbor Mr. Johnson or the baker Mr. Johnson,” I ask stupidly as if it matters.

“Our neighbor Mr. Johnson. He wants it for his daughter.”

I don’t know what has happened during the last week since I ran away, but it seems like my brothers and I are living in two different worlds now. They don’t even have an intersection or a common divisor, or whatever you call it.

“We could raise cattle and birth calves,” Avery says conciliatorily, a smile spreading across his face. He’s probably envisioning it right now.

“Create a hemp plantation,” Liam adds, lighting another cig.

“Aren’t you a Christian now?” I ask irritably.

“Christians can smoke weed too, can’t they?”

“Oh, of course, Jesus has already forgiven all sins, I forgot! But then Bren is innocent too!”

“Lou!” Ethan scolds.

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