Page 52 of Bitter Lies

He’s clearly not in his right mind, and he’s so hyped up, I can see the vein in his neck pulsing wildly. Shit, Max may not even remember this when he’s come back down.

Stepping back cautiously, I hold out my hands and attempt a soothing tone. “Okay.”

His brows drop over his eyes as he grabs my arm, his fingers tight. “Okay? Fuck you. Little miss perfect. How does it feel to know you’re not the favorite now?” he sneers.

“I don’t know what you mean, Max. You’re hurting me.”

Shaking me roughly, he pushes me away, and I stumble back, righting myself at the door where I glance down the hall, but hesitate because I’m afraid to leave and afraid to stay. This is all so fucked-up.

“You were always the fucking one, weren’t you, Hals? Well, I killed that, didn’t I? Whatever. Even now, you’re still the fucking one.”

“The one what?” I ask helplessly.

“Everything!” he bellows.

“I—”

“Halsey can’t be alone. She’ll have to live with you. Halsey’s sick. Keep an eye on her. Halsey needs a fucking ride. Drive her around. Halsey’s the one I love, too fucking bad for you.”

Although they make no sense, his words are filled with a desperate pain that causes an ache in my chest. How did I miss this? How did I not know my brother is so lost?

Because he shut me out and, for whatever reason, blames me.

Crying silently, I wipe the tears from my face. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off! I don’t want your fucking sorry! Grow up, leave! Don’t fucking come back!”

Nodding, I head down the hall, and I’m just entering the sanctuary of my room when he pulls me back and shoves me toward the living room.

“Max, please—”

“You don’t fucking tell anyone, Halsey. You understand?”

“O-okay,” I stutter, backing toward the wall beside the couch.

He cocks his head to the side, examining me closely before he smiles, and the stretch of his lips is so dreadful, it sends a shiver down my spine. “You’re afraid of me.”

“N-no.”

“Hm, well, look at that, perfect fucking Halsey is afraid. What do you think I’m going to do? Hurt you?”

“Of course not. You’re my brother,” I whimper.

“I’m your nothing! I’m not your fucking brother! We’re not family! We’re nothing!”

Nodding helplessly, I quietly sob as he rages before me, pacing back and forth and muttering, his fists clenching and releasing at his sides. “Always fucking you.”

I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, we’re both sitting on the floor, him by the television as he mutters shit under his breath.

My ass is numb, my heart hurts, and I’m fucking scared, but I don’t know how long this will go on if I don’t do something. He’s calmer, I think.

Shifting slowly, I rise to my feet, flinching when he jumps up and demands, “What are you doing?”

I’m hoping he’ll take mercy on me and I can escape this situation which is why I lie. “I need to pee.”

His eye twitches as he looks at me with his thousand-yard stare and I lower my gaze, flinching when he finally speaks. “Whatever. If you fucking tell anyone, Griff, Mom, Dad, I’ll fucking hurt you.”

He stalks away, and rushing forward, I follow him as far as my room before closing the door and locking it, never more relieved to have the damn lock.

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