Page 135 of Fangs
He smiled a soft, sad smile, “Freckles, I always knew you were innocent.”
My eyes overflowed, and he pulled me close again. A tiny glimmer of light that felt dangerously like hope flickered. If Lee never believed I was a murderer, maybe I had a chance. Maybe I could find some way to convince my brother I wasn’t a bad person.
I just had to convince myself first.
22
Eventually, I seemed to cry myself out, but I still didn’t move for a while. Lee’s arms were warm around me, and when did I start craving touch like this?
You sobbed in my arms and begged me not to leave you alone.
I had no memory of that, and I hated not knowing what else I’d said while I was feverish. The embarrassment lingered, but at the same time, I couldn’t help looking at Lee in a different light. I didn’t know what to do with any of these revelations.
I pulled away, fishing one of Sam’s handkerchiefs out of my pocket and trying to dry my wet face. Lee stayed leaning against the wall, waiting. He didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t seem impatient at all.
“Be honest,” I finally said, looking up at him. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”
He studied my face. “Your eyes are kinda red and puffy, and you look sad.”
I grimaced.
“Still beautiful, though,” he added with a crooked smile.
I glared at him. “Quit.”
“Not my fault you’re so damn cute when you blush.”
“Lee,” I snapped, my face growing hot, but he just grinned at me, completely unrepentant.
“Bones?”
I peered around Lee to see Apple standing a few feet away, her eyes huge and worried.
“Hi, Apple,” I said, hoping I sounded close to normal. “Are you okay?”
She looked between me and Lee and didn’t answer.
I moved around Lee and approached her, concerned. When I knelt before her, she wrapped her arms around my neck again.
“Are you—” I started
“Areyouokay?” she interrupted in a fierce whisper that Lee definitely could still hear. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I quickly assured her, pulling back to see her face.
Apple scrunched her nose in a fierce scowl aimed over my shoulder, and I fought the urge to smile.
“I was… feelin’ sad, and Lee was talkin’ to me. I’m okay, Apple.”
She looked back at my face, studying my expression solemnly. “Sad about Trey?”
I had to swallow hard before choking out, “Yeah.”
The well of pain and grief in her blue eyes was far too deep to exist in a child, and I felt a stab of guilt that I hadn’t checked on how the kids were handling Trey’s death.
“I miss him.” I forced myself to not hide the tears in my eyes. “All the time.”
“I miss him, too,” she whispered, then her little face crumpled.
