Page 54 of The Road Less Traveled By

“Can someone explain before I go insane?” Liv says, pacing once again. Before I can open my mouth to spill everything, Vince beats me to it.

“Ralph sent a package with two bullets in it. One with Bree’s name on it.” He pauses. “And one with Liv’s name.”

“Wait, back up. What did you just say?” Liv all but stops cold in her tracks. “He sent you a bullet with my name on it, and you didn't think you should mention that to me?”

“I was going to tell you that night! Tristan and I met for lunch, and he told me to open up to you, and I was going to! I swear, I was, but then we got shot at, and that took precedence, and it slipped through the cracks.”

“How could you forget something like that? Bree, oh my God. This is nuts.” Liv stops pacing and places a hand on the mantle to steady herself.

I’m a horrible sister.I let my own mental health take priority, and if something had happened to her that I could’ve prevented, I don't know what I would’ve done. “I’m sorry, Liv. I—”

“Liv, she’s trying her best. You don't see the kind of pressure she’s under, so give her some leeway.” Vince stands up from his seat, heading tothe fridge for water, and I hate that he’s been dragged into my family squabbles. This is a fucking mess.

“Whose idea was it to keep this a secret from me? Because you clearly knew about it and could’ve told me, but you didn't.” Liv points an accusing finger at Vince.

“It was—”

Vince cuts me off. “It was my idea. I had to keep Bree safe, Liv. It’s what you guys hired me for, and that’s what I did. To be fair, I had some of my guys watch your house, just to make sure that—”

Nobody sees it coming, not even Vince. His guard was down, and Tristan manages to land a punch right to his nose, a cracking sound echoing around the living room. Vince broke his nose when the shooter landed a punch, and by the sounds of it, Tristan just broke it again.

“You didn't think we needed to know about that? You son of a bitch!”

Vince centers himself, and when he lifts his head to look at Tristan, blood is running down his face. I swear, I see a hint of a smirk on his face, but it might just be my imagination. “I was doing my job, Tristan. If you can’t understand that, then I’m sorry.”

“Teags, go get some towels and an ice pack,” I tell her, and she nods at me, rushing to the bathroom.

“I understand that, Vince.” Tristan turns his gaze to me. “I just don't understand why all of a sudden you’re keeping secrets from us, Bree. You omitted that detail.”

God, I feel sick. I know I fucked up, but how can I explain it without breaking down? Words don’t come easily to me. I’d rather just keep it all in than have to let everybody know I don't feel like myself, that some days, I wish I wasn't here anymore.

How do you tell the people you love that you wish you could disappear forever? How do I look Tristan and Teags in the eye and say that after they lost their brother how they did?

I can't. I couldn't do that to them, so burying all of my emotions has been the new normal for me, and it’s worked out just fine until now.

“What happened to our pinky promise, Bree? Did that mean nothing to you?”

Crack.That’s the sound of my heart breaking and slipping onto the floor in front of me.

“Liv, don't,” Teags warns.

“Teags, stop defending her actions. She messed up, and—”

“And she knows that! Everyone needs to stop telling her what she should've done and just listen to her! I’ve seen firsthand how much she’s struggling, and you could all give her a tiny bit of grace. None of us know what she’s going through, and it sucks to be out of the loop, but she’s the onelivingin this horror right now. Everyone take five and chill the fuck out!” Teags hands me an ice pack and some towels, and I take them over to where Vince is sitting on a kitchen stool.

“Fine. Liv, let’s go outside for a second, okay?” Tristan says, and I hear the sliding door shut a few seconds later.

I all but drag Vince to the bathroom. “How does your nose feel?”

“Broken. Again.”

“Yeah, no shit. My brother packs a hell of a punch,” Teags says as she leans against the door frame. “I’m sorry for tonight. I didn't think it was going to be this heated.”

“Thanks for sticking up for me. I don't deserve a friend like you, and if you want to distance yourself, I’ll understand,” I say as I clean the blood off of Vince’s face.

“If you ever say that to me again, I’ll be the one punching you,” Teags says before she leaves the bathroom.

Vince is silent for a few moments as I fix his face up. It’s comfortable—the quiet air between us. Sometimes, I wish my wounds were this easy to patch up. A band-aid here, some gauze there. But that’s not how it works when the problems are in your head, when your memories are the things thathaunt you. All my scars are invisible, unnoticed by the rest of the world. Nobody notices my marks. Nobody can see or feel the battle that goes on in my head every day. And no matter how hard I try, nobody is able to put me back together.

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