(Do Not Read Back Up Copy)

Chapter XII

Caleb

Hailey’d finally gotten to the point where she’d stopped fighting. It didn’t seem to matter that I pinned her down or started taking her clothes off, she just, let me. She let me do whatever I wanted with her.

I wished she would’ve hit me, I wished she would’ve stopped me so I had an excuse to get out of doing this. But she didn’t. She didn’t even have enough strength left to sit up straight.

Liam had done exactly what he’d set out to do. He’d made me look like a monster, and stolen Hailey’s fight right out from under her. I watched her slowly let herself go and I—

I felt like I was less than nothing. Like I was worse than Liam, to her.

Just before she passed out, Hailey looked up at me with those eyes of hers, and made sure that I knew she wasn’t going to forgive me for any of this. Whether I went through with what Liam wanted me to, or not, she’d never forgive me. But God, I wanted her to. I needed—

“Are you waiting for the Pope’s blessing Caleb? Strip her down!”

Liam was taunting me. The son of a bitch knew I couldn’t go through with this. Hailey’s clothes were frozen solid either way. I could barely cut through the fabric on her shirt anymore. My hands were shaking so bad that I couldn’t even keep Liam’s knife straight. Maybe God was staying my hand, but He wasn’t the one standing in the room with me.

“Liam, I can’t—“

“Don’t you say it, don’t you dare. We had an agreement, Caleb.”

Marcus stepped off the wall and walked over to Liam. I already knew what he was going to say. It wasn’t gonna work.

“Leave it, Liam. We’re not here for that,” Marcus said.

“We’re not. He is. Haven’t you seen how he’s been acting around her all day? Playing hero for the hostage? If he screws the tramp, he’ll be over it and then maybe he’ll take his priorities out of his pants and focus on our family,”

“She’ll freeze to death before he does anything that low, Liam. This is going too far, even for you this is—.”

Liam suddenly stuck his hand into his back pocket and pulled out Rusty’s pistol. Before Marcus could flinch, Liam cocked it and pointed the barrel at the center of his head.

“What’s this? The preacher’s fallen silent and the congregation’s suddenly all ears. Speak up, Marcus, what is it you were saying about going too far?”

I didn’t know what to do. Liam seldom bluffed about anything. He’d shoot the three of us if we tried to reason with him any further—family or not. Maybe he’d lost too much blood, maybe he’d lost it all together. I don’t know what had happened to him, but he terrified me.

“I’ll do it, just take the gun off Marcus, please, I’ll do whatever you want, okay? Just get that thing out of his face,” I pleaded.

Liam took his eyes off Marcus, who’d gone completely white, and turned his head as slowly as he could until he faced me. When I looked at him straight on, it was hard to recognize my brother in the state he was in. Eyes sunken, pupils as big as dimes, skin paler than I’d ever seen it.

Liam looked possessed, like he was completely out of his mind, and I didn’t know what to do. Our Mum would’ve fallen into despair at the sight of him. If she hadn’t died as young as she was, the four of us would’ve sent her to an early grave. We weren’t anyone’s sons anymore. We weren’t good enough for that title.

“Atta’ boy Caleb. Don’t worry we’ll have lots of fun with the girl, just you and me. Marcus! Cillian! Piss off and go watch for the cops outside. Caleb and I are gonna spend some quality bonding time together.”