Page 844 of Lessons in Cruelty

“But you just couldn’t stand that I had something good when everything in your life was shit. So you chose violence, just like Dad. And I did as well, but that’s all changed.”

“You ungrateful shit.” Richard’s chair scrapes back, but he stays in his seat. “Everything you have, everything you are, is because of me.”

“Because of you?” I say quietly. “Yeah, right.”

Sharon reaches out and puts her hand on Richard’s arm, patting it like she’s trying to soothe a snarling dog. “Richie, please. He doesn’t mean it. He’s just upset. Please, darling⁠—“

“You don’t get to defend him anymore.” I don’t even look at my mother. “Not today. Not ever again.”

Sharon’s hand stills. Her eyes fill, but she doesn’t speak again.

When I finally turn to Haven, she’s desperately wiping at the tears spilling from her eyes.

“That’s why Haven is special. She helped me break the cycle. With her, I make my own choices. And I’m done choosing violence.”

I force a swallow, clear my throat.

“I choose life. I choose love.” I bring Haven’s hand up to my mouth, kissing her knuckles. “Maybe, one day, you will too.”

Ezra’s face cycles through pain, rage, despair…but he shuts them down one by one.

Until there’s nothing left.

“You’re right,” he whispers, slowly shaking his head. “She’s the reason you survived, not me. She’s the reason you never needed me.”

His hand comes out of his pocket.

He’s holding a gun.

Sharon gasps.

Richard goes completely still. The contempt drains out of his face, leaving behind fear, confusion, dread. He almost looks like the man he might have once been before he broke.

The barrel swings toward Haven. Our hands are suddenly clenching tight enough to stop the blood flow to our fingers.

“So what happens when she’s gone?” Ezra’s finger curls around the trigger.

I move without conscious thought. One second I’m standing beside Haven, the next I’m in front of her. She’s still gripping my hand, but I keep my arm pushed back, herding her behind me as the muzzle of Ezra’s gun gapes at me.

“Kai, don’t—“ Haven’s voice is raw with fear.

“It’s okay, Heavenly.” I don’t take my eyes off my brother. “I’ve got you.”

“Move!” Ezra yells, the gun dipping and rising as he tries to aim past me at Haven.

“You want to shoot someone?” I lift my chin. “Shoot me. I’m the one who put you in the hospital. I’m the one who left you behind every afternoon. She didn’t do anything.”

Ezra’s hand begins to shake. Tears and snot stream down his face, until he looks less like a monster and more like the scared kid I remember from our childhood. The one who’d crawl into my bed after Dad was done with him, and lie there shivering until he fell asleep.

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to—“ He cuts off with an angry sound. “You think I set all this up just so I could shoot your fucking girlfriend? This wasn’t about you, Kai. This wasn’t about her. It never was. This was about us.” He waves the gun at Mom and Dad.

“About me.”

My mind reels, adrenaline racing through my veins like I’m holding a live wire, and the pieces finally slot into place.

My brother was going to kill himself.

At the Thanksgiving table.