Page 97 of Wreck Me

Fuck.

‘Is he one of your brothers?’ Lucien cocks his head.

‘No,’ Scarlett says in a tone I’ve never heard her use before. ‘He’s one of mine.’

Chapter Forty-Three

SCARLETT

Time stands still. Even beneath the heat of the Provencal sun, a coldness akin to death seeps into my bones. My heart beats so hard it feels like it’s going to burst right out of my chest.

The prospect of this moment has haunted my worst nightmares for years and stolen so much joy from my life. And all that time, fear of facing this man has held me hostage in my own home.

Just when I dared to try and be happy, here he is, my stepbrother, determined to destroy me, just like he always promised he would.

Our last conversation forces itself to the forefront of my mind. I remember every word like it was yesterday. Probably because I’ve replayed it in my head every day since.

‘You’ve taken our father away from us,’he roared in my face, the stench of alcohol on his breath stinging my eyes.

‘At least he’s still breathing. Which is more than I can say for my mother.’My voice broke as the harsh reality hit me. It was the precise moment it truly dawned on me that I’d never see her again. Never hear her sweet voice again. Never feel a love like hers again.

‘It was an accident,’ Declan boomed, banging a clenched fist on the old oak table where we’d shared so many dinners. The noise shook me to the core. Violence was intrinsically woven into his genes. He was forever thumping around, punching walls and banging doors. Is it any wonder I jump even at the prettiest fireworks, or the slightest slamming of a car door?

If I’d placed any value on my life, I’d have shut up. Declan’s temper was notorious at the best of times, but that night, the night the jury convicted Jack O’Connor of manslaughter, Declan looked ready to blow. I think a part of me wanted him to.

After all, what did I have left?

My mother was gone and all that remained were the monsters I called my stepbrothers.

They weren’t supposed to be within a hundred feet of the house, which is why I’d snuck out of Eleanor’s, the teacher who took me in. I wanted something of my mother’s to remember her by. Her necklace.

But the O’Connors always believed they were above the law.

Which is precisely why I testified against their father.

‘He set the distillery on fire deliberately,’I argued.

‘She wasn't supposed to be there.’Declan’s face was practically purple with rage, as Michael, Keith, John and Joseph flanked his sides.

‘But she was, and now she’s dead.’I folded my arms across my chest with a defiance , not caring if he killed me there and then. Part of me was already dead.

‘And you will be too, if you don’t retract your testimonial,’ Declan had hissed, towering over me.

John placed a hand on Declan’s shoulder in a silent warning. He might be the youngest of the five brothers but he’s always been the sharpest.

‘Leave it, Dec. Unless you want to be in the cell next to Dad.’ John shot me a sympathetic look over Declan’s shoulder.

Declan’s parting shot had stayed with me.‘If I ever see you again, I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.’

Unlike Declan, John was just a kid when our parents got married. We shared the same memories of our parents laughing. Kissing when they thought none of us were watching.

It didn't last long.

I’ve learnt since that nothing really does. Not unless it’s in a romance novel.

Which is why the feelings I have for James Beckett terrify me.

But not as much as the horror on his face right now.

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