Page 56 of Flame
All I had to do was ignore its existence.
But at the same time, I wasn’t just protecting myself. Everyone from my parents to the rest of the town drilled into my head that someone else always mattered more.
“She was nice to me,” I say softly, watching as the speed dial gauge ticks higher. Higher… For whatever reason, I don’t feel the fear anymore. It’s as if speaking forms a boundary between my brain and my emotions too thick for anything to puncture. The only way to maintain it is to relive these memories.
Every last one.
“You said you wanted me to have a friend, but that wasn’t it.” Even back then, he’d kept me isolated, but I had been so desperate for someone to interact with. I’d have done anything. “You had a crush on her. She was pretty—”
“Stop it, Hannah,” Branden snaps.
I stare through the windshield, seeing nothing but images of the past. “And you… Dad caught you lurking around the bathroom while I was in the shower. You took pictures of me, then. Polaroids. You kept them in a box in your room, and you always told me that you did it to protect me—”
“You’re crazy,” he snarls. “Fucking crazy. Do you hear yourself?”
But I do. For the first time in so long, I can finally hear myself speak.
“You told me to be friends with Lexi, and I was. Then you asked me to bring her to the lake, and I did. But you were there... You told me to take a walk.” I sound so detached. It’s as if I’m narrating a scene from a movie or play—not my own life. “But when I came back…”
“Do you know the damage you could do, spreading those fucking lies?” Branden demands. “Is that what you want? For me to end up in fucking prison because a little liar couldn’t keep her goddamn mouth shut?”
“You always made it sound like it was my fault,” I say, turning to look at him directly. In profile, he doesn’t even resemble the brother I’ve known. He’s a stranger, snarling over the steering wheel. “And I believed you. I believed that everything I did affected you. But that’s not the truth, is it? Did… Did you do that to Faith?” I hear myself ask. It’s as if my body has taken over, cutting off all input from my brain. “Hurt her because she pushed you away—”
“Why don’t you ask your fucking Rafe what happened to Faith?” he demands.
The engine whines as the van lurches forward even faster. Genuine alarm creeps through the numbness, and only now do I realize how tightly I’m gripping my chair. So tight, my knuckles are white.
“Branden, stop—”
“One good fuck, and you already care about him more than me, huh?”
“Look out!”
Another car cuts into his path, and he barely manages to swerve in time to avoid it.
“Slow down!”
“Come home,” he counters. “Say you’ll do it. Now.” He wrenches on the steering wheel, cutting directly into the path of another car.
“Branden—”
“Say it.” The engine revs to enforce the threat.
“Slow down!”
He raises his voice to easily drown out mine. “Come home.”
We’re going too fast. The vehicle sways, fighting to stay in the same lane. Only God knows what the drivers nearby are thinking. Who he’s putting at risk.
All of this to make a point.
He’s always in control.
“Come home,” he goads to reinforce the thought. “Everything will be like it was. All you have to do is come home. Because I’m worried what will happen if you don’t. Your friend Rafe thinks he’s hot shit, but no one is untouchable, Hannah—and he isn’t the one calling the shots. You have no idea what you’ve stepped into—”
“Then, just tell me!”
“Come home,” he insists in a softer tone. “I’ll tell you everything if you do. I mean it.”
