I lifted my palms between us, showing her I surrendered. I wouldn’t touch her if she didn’t want me to. But then Billy was there, stepping between us. He tossed a disappointed frown in my direction that made me wince. Then he turned his back on me, gathering Jennifer into his arms giving her a tight hug.
Rationally, I knew I should thank my brother. I should thank him for comforting Jennifer when I couldn’t, when she wouldn’t let me.
Irrationally, I wanted to rip off his arms and legs and beat him to death with them.
She was crying in earnest again, the sound tearing me to shreds. I was a caged animal, listening to the cries of his mate. I was helpless. I hated being helpless.
I hated it.
Billy lifted her, carrying her in his arms up the stairs. I watched them go, took one step to follow and stopped myself. Black spots of fury filled my vision. I tugged my hand through my hair and held my forehead, staring after them.
The edges of my control were shredded and the spiral of darkness—fierce anger—and regret was upon me. My lungs were on fire. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.
And I couldn’t stay here.
So I left.
CHAPTER 27
“Suffering is a gift. In it is hidden mercy.”
― Jalaluddin Rumi
Cletus
When I left the house, I went straight to the shed and chopped the hell out of some wood. Actually, lots of wood. Lots and lots of wood. Exhaustion followed, but the acrid taste of helplessness remained.
I rubbed my chest, setting the ax down on the stump, and tried to catch my breath. Images of Jennifer’s eyes as she pushed me away, ripe with betrayal and pain, flashed through my mind. I was fixating on the memory. I couldn’t escape it. My heart bled with it. Gushing, an endless torment.
I squinted at the dark field as I heard footsteps approaching from the house. Billy, and he wasn’t being sneaky as he plowed through the grass.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he hollered at me, still several yards away.
“You know what I was thinking. I was out of the boat and wanted to keep it that way.”
“You should have trusted her to make the right decision.”
“Thanks for the advice, Dear Abby. But you’re a day late and a dollar short. I did what needed being done.”
Believing in people hadn’t ever come easily to me. I was by nature suspicious and distrustful, mostly because—if the standardized IQ curve was to believed—the majority of people were idiots.
But Jennifer was not an idiot. Jennifer was brilliant and wise, and kind and good, and everything.
And I’d just fucked everything up.
Billy’s hands came to his waist. “Blackmailing her father?”
“That’s right.” I defended myself, but my words lacked conviction. “The man has plenty of secrets, as most evil people do.” I picked up the ax and swung it at the stump. The splintering wood held no satisfaction for me.
“How many secrets do you have, Cletus?”
I narrowed my eyes on my brother. I didn’t respond. If he was trying make me angrier, if he was trying to increase my misery, his plan was working.
His eyes flickered between the chopping block and me. “We don’t need any more wood split.”
“Too bad.” I set another piece on the block. “Y’all are selfish wood splitters. Maybe Beau is having a hard time, did you ever think of that? Maybe he needs to split some wood. Just because you and Jethro cut down half the forest over the summer doesn’t mean I can’t split wood now.”
“And just because someone has secrets doesn’t mean they’re evil.”
Billy’s pejorative tone had me straightening and meeting his stare, my lungs burning, filling with fury.
“He’s having an affair, Billy,” I said, barely controlling my desire to shout in his face. “Kip Sylvester has been having an affair for several years with his school secretary. He tells Jennifer that dressing like a normal person is sinful and makes her feel ashamed of herself. He takes her money and buys himself fancy cars and boats. He calls her names, belittles her in front of people—his own daughter!”
Billy flinched, lifting his hands and showing me his palms. “Calm down. I know he does, I’ve seen him cut her down before. He’s a terrible person. But I’m not talking about Kip Sylvester. I’m talking about you.”
I continued, ranting mostly to myself. “He’s the stupid one. What was he thinking? That I was bluffing? I’m going to ruin him. I swear, we’re surrounded by assholes and idiots in this town.”
“Just because someone is an idiot doesn’t mean they’re a bad person. And just because someone is smart doesn’t mean they’re good.”
I glared at my brother. This was not the first time he’d reminded me of this fact. I dropped the ax to the ground and turned, searching for a satisfying outlet for my wrath.
Jennifer had been right. I didn’t trust her. I didn’t trust that she would choose me over her parents. I lacked faith. I knew too much. I had too much experience. I was jaded.