Page 212 of What We Break
"Better?" He steps into the room. "She left me, Blake. She drove away. Because of you."
I look at a knot in the wood of the floorboards. "She was going to leave eventually. I just sped up the timeline."
"Don't you dare." His voice drops, low and dangerous. "Don't you dare act like you did me a favor. She told me everything."
My jaw tightens. "Good."
"She told me you met her at the bar." Reid takes another step closer. He’s vibrating with rage, a kind of kinetic energy I haven't seen in him since the sandbox. "She said you told her Imadeyou stay. That I begged."
"I told her the truth."
"You told her I was weak!" Reid screams it, the sound echoing off the metal tools. "You told her I was holding you hostage! You took the fact that I love you—that I wanted my brother safe—and you twisted it into a noose to hang me with."
I don't answer. There’s nothing to say. He’s right.
But he’s still standing here.Even now, screaming at me, he’s still looking for a reason to understand. He’s still trying to find the guy he knew before.
That guy is dead. And I need Reid to bury him so he can move on. If I apologize, he’ll try to fix this. He’ll try to fixme. I can't let him do that anymore. I have to make sure the break is clean. I have to make sure it’s bone-deep.
"And the flight risk comment?" Reid is in my face now. I can smell the distress on him. "You used that? Really? The shit I told you in confidence when I was terrified of losing her? That wasn't a fucking accident was it?"
"She needed to know where she stood."
"She stood with me!" Reid shoves me. It’s not a hard shove, but I let it rock me back. "She was mine! And you couldn't stand it. You couldn't stand seeing me happy, so you poisoned it."
"I protected you," I say, my voice flat. "She wasn't built for this, Reid. She was going to run. Better she runs now than in five years when you’re married with kids."
"You don't know that!"
"I know people leave. Everyone leaves."
"You made her leave!"
Reid swings.
It’s a sloppy punch. Telegraphed. Emotional. I could block it. I could step inside it and put him on the floor in two seconds.
I don't move.
His fist connects with my jaw. A bright flash of white light, then the dull throb of impact. I stumble back, knocking a jar of screws off the bench. They scatter across the floor like shrapnel.
He hits like a freight train. I straighten up. Taste blood.
Good.Let him hate me. Hate is cleaner than worry. Hate is a line in the sand. I’ve spent years letting him drag me toward the light, and all I’ve done is dim him.
I need him to let go. And since he won't do it, I have to make him.
"Hit me back," Reid snarls. He’s crying now. Tears streaming down his face. "Come on, Marine. Hit me back."
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "No."
He hits me again. Stomach, this time. It knocks the wind out of me. I double over, wheezing, gripping the edge of the workbench.
"Why?" Reid screams. He grabs the front of my shirt, hauling me up, slamming me back against the cabinets. "Why do you hate her? What did she ever do to you except try to be your friend?"
I look at him. My best friend. My brother. I’ve broken him. I’ve taken the light out of his eyes and replaced it with this wreckage.
"I don't hate her," I rasp.
