Page 55 of Flame
But the Hannah he’s referring to isn’t proud or mysterious. She’s a world apart from the figure Rafe sees. She pretends to be a captive, but her own lies form the shackles holding her back.
Gritting my teeth, I try to deny it. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. The worst part is that you know I’m not. You were dumb enough to think he wanted you, Hannah?” Scoffing, he snatches the pages from me and tightens his grip on my arm. “I’m the only person who will ever care about you. Who has ever cared about you. Now get in the goddamn van.”
He shoves me into the seat so hard I lose my balance. Clawing at the door frame, I try to get out, but I’m too slow. Before I know it, he’s slamming the door after me, nearly smashing my bag in the process. When I tug on the handle, it’s already locked.
My wide-eyed reflection watches me from the window glass, waiting for my next move. But I’m frozen. The panic I know I should feel is dulled by sheer confusion. What was Rafe’s real motive if everything Branden says is true? To use me to get back at Branden?
Or use me in another way. Could he have been the one to plant Faith’s hair clip after all?
No.I shake my head to banish the doubt and try the door again, fumbling for the button to unlock it. A door does open, but it’s the driver’s side.
“Don’t be stupid,” Branden warns as he climbs behind the steering wheel. “We’re just going to talk. You’re going to listen and give me the respect I deserve. Hell, I’m not just your brother, Hannah. It’s always been you and me from the start. Just the two of us, right?” His expression softens as he attempts to touch my arm, but I cringe out of his reach.
“Just the two of us,” I croak, pressing myself against my door, as far from him as I can get. “Because you won’t let me do anything on my own.”
He laughs at the mere idea while turning onto the main street. Then, he rounds another corner so quickly I’m thrown against the dashboard. My wrist smarts as I brace my hands for stability. Amid the hum of the engine, I sense our speed increasing by the second until we’re peeling down the streets, heedless of the posted limit.
“On your own?” he parrots nastily. “So that you can keep ruining your life and spewing your lies?”
He cuts in front of another vehicle before darting across an intersection. My stomach lurches, threatening to jump up my throat. “Bran,” I croak. “You’re going too fast.”
God, I can’t tell if the last light he passed was even green. All I can do is grip the edge of my seat so tightly my nails bite into the leather. “Slow down!”
“You know,” he says in a chillingly calm tone. Without taking his eyes from the road, he wrenches on the wheel, weaving through the thinning traffic. “Liam said something strange the other day. About you.”
Pinpricks of alarm bite at my nerves as I race to recall just what he’s referring to—Lexi?
He doesn’t answer right away. With a shuddering jolt, the van bolts across two lanes, turning onto the highway amid a smattering of honking horns.
I can barely breathe as terror clenches my chest in a vice grip. “Bran!”
“He asked me if ‘that’ was why I’m so protective of you,” he says in that eerie tone. “What happened ‘in your past.’ He didn’t say what,” he adds. “But he didn’t fucking have to. What did you tell him?”
I choke out an answer without thinking. “N-Nothing.”
“Oh? Then why did he have that kicked puppy look on his face? The one that dumb little whores like you inspire by telling lies. What did you tell him?”
He peels down a busy lane, and I scramble to engage my seatbelt. As I shift, something firm stabs against my outer thigh. Alarmed, I swat at it, only to remember the object in my pocket. It’s been there all this time.
“Hannah,” Branden growls and—despite the chaos of the moment—I marvel at one grim fact. Any other day I’d react to the authority in his tone the way he wants me to. I’d jump. Cower. Confess.
But with Faith’s butterfly clip cradled against my palm, I’m reminded of another piece of jewelry. One that Rafe would have no interest in taking.
“Answer me, Hannah,” Branden growls. “What. Did. You. Tell. Him?”
“The truth?” I blurt, though I don’t know why it comes out as a question. Or it could be a dare. “That you’ve always looked out for me, haven’t you? You’ve always protected me. And you’ve always been there to guide me. Control me. Manipulate me. Guilt me into being silent about the things you’ve made me do. Because it’s always my fault, isn’t it?”
An emotion flits across his face too quickly to name. His eyes dart from the road for a split second, and the van drifts dangerously toward the oncoming lane.
“Watch out!”
A truck darts out of his path, narrowly avoiding a collision.
“Truth? Don’t be ridiculous, Hannah.” He throws his head back, laughing. “What are you even talking about?”
“I’m talking about when you made me be friends with Lexi Winacott.” It’s a strange way to delve into these memories. Like ripping out a knife that’s been embedded within me for so long, I’ve deluded myself into thinking that I’d healed around the intrusion. That I could go on living with the weapon still there, buried deep.
