Page 38 of All the Forbidden Things

Mel takes my good hand in hers. I still have an IV line going into the back of it and a blood pressure cuff around the same arm, so it’s a little awkward.

I hate that my brother looks so torn because of someone else's actions.

“I love you, Cal,” I blurt. “I love you, and I got so fucking lucky when I was born with you as my big brother.”

A sob bursts from Mel and I feel her shake beside me, but I don't take my eyes from my brother’s face. I need him to know how much I appreciate everything he’s done for me.

His gaze slowly shifts from the floor to meet mine. I take in the bloodshot whites that surround his grey-blue irises, which are so much like our dad’s, and despite the tingle in my nose and the fact my chin is trembling, I give him a small smile and nod.

“I need to know what happened.”

I don’t see tears on his face, but he wipes at it with the back of his hand anyway, at the same time he tilts his head from side to side, relieving the tension in his neck. His nostrils are flared, something my brother only does when he gets angry, which doesn’t happen often. Drawing in a deep breath, he nods and says, “When Carmen came into your apartment, you were unconscious. He was on top of you and had pulled your top up . . .”

Pain slices through my boob as I recall his teeth sinking into my tender flesh, the ice in my veins not sufficient to numb the horror of that particular memory.

I nod at the recollection of being in that position and listen as Callum continues.

“He had one hand around your throat, the other was attempting to get your shorts and knickers down. Carmen had collected a gun from wherever they keep them in the house before she came to your apartment. She aimed it at Bosworth and screamed at him to get off you. Instead, he reached for his own gun . . .” Cal clears the emotion from his throat and chokes out, “He had a gun, kid, did he point that fucking thing at you?”

I nod as tears track down my cheeks.

“That fucker. That fucking fucker,” Cal whispers while lacing his fingers behind his head and spinning slowly in a circle. He stares up at the ceiling.

“He dropped it. I think I headbutted him, or maybe when I punched him . . . I can’t remember, but I did something, and it skidded across the floor.”

“Good girl,” my brother praises me.

“I tried to crawl away then, to get to the kids. I was going for the gun, but I realised I don’t know how to shoot a gun—”

“Gun lessons, we’ll get them too,” Makenzie says quietly.

“He pulled me back. He grabbed my hair and pulled me back. He was on my chest...” I can barely breathe, the memories resurfacing as I talk through them. “Then I was on my front, trying to reach the kids . . . they were in my bedroom. I put them in there when I heard Michael arguing with Carmen on the phone. When they’ve both been drinking, their rows can get violent . . .”

“Wait, this wasn’t a one-off?” Cal asks. “Has he come at you before?”

“No, never. They just tear lumps out of each other.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us? Why’d you stay? Fucking hell, kid?”

“The children, Cal. I was scared for the children—wait, where are they? Are they safe?”

Oh my God, I hadn’t even considered where Oliver and Amelia were.

“I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care right now. You should’ve let one of us know this shit was going on. Fuck me!” Cal again begins to pace.

“I know. I called you both a couple of times last week, but I read what was going on with Max’s wife and figured you were helping him out with the baby and everything—”

“Fuck Max. You’re just making excuses—”

“Chill, Dad. Don’t talk to her like that. She’s dealing with enough shit right now,” Kenzie interjects.

“Did you know about this? Know she was living with this pair of arseholes?” he asks Makenzie, but then quickly turns his glare to Mel.

I can’t believe my brother is losing his shit the way he is.

“No,” Mel and Kenzie respond together.

Despite the fact I have mentioned it to Mel and that Kenz knows everything, they both sound convincing.