Page 88 of Beneath Your Beautiful

“Stay here,” Killian said, heading for the door.

“Where have you been, you piece of shit?” Seamus asked Connor.

Downstairs, I heard a scuffle, followed by a grunt.

“Get your hands off him,” Killian roared.

I hopped off the bed and stood in the open doorway, listening, my heart racing.

“Just like old times,” Connor said. “Why did you do it, Killian? Why did you always need to be the hero?”

“Shut up, Connor,” Killian warned.

“Shut up, Connor. Hide in the closet until I come for you, Connor,” Connor mimicked.

“Why are you here?” Killian asked.

“I told you to call me when your brother got back. I had to hear it from someone else. Answer me. Where have you been?”

“You really have no idea?” Connor asked.

“Don’t play games with me, boy. Where’ve you been?”

“Just took a road trip to nowhere special. Traveled around. Kept moving.”

Connor was lying, but Killian didn’t deny it. I didn’t catch Seamus’s response, but I heard the next part loud and clear.

“Saw you and your little girlfriend the other day over at the tattoo parlor,” Seamus said, and I tensed. “What’s wrong with you, boy? Artists are fucked up. Look at your brother here. Screwed up in the head. Got their wires all crossed.”

“Whatever sick and twisted game you’re playing, leave her out of it,” Killian said.

“You’re the one who’s screwed up in the head,” Connor said. “What did Killian do to piss you off so much you attacked him with a broken bottle? There was so much fucking blood. He was unconscious.”

My hand flew to my mouth. Oh my God. No.His father did that to him?

“Shut up,” Killian warned.

“That’s not what happened, boy,” Seamus growled. “It was that junkie. You know that.”

“He was twelve years old,” Connor said. “You made everyone believe it was that junkie. We kept your secrets. Told lies to protect you. Killian hid all his bruises, and everyone thought it was another street fight. He was scared nobody would believe him if he told the truth. Scared we’d go into foster care and get separated. That’s why he took it. Over and over and over. How many punches did you take, Killian? How many times did he knock you out? Break your ribs? Leave you unconscious on the kitchen floor?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seamus said. “You’ve done so many drugs, your brain is scrambled.”

My feet carried me to the stairs without my permission. I sat on the top step and leaned my shoulder against the wall, getting a clear view of the hallway and the three men standing in it.

“You tried to break him, but you couldn’t,” Connor said. “I’ll never forgive you for what you did to him, and I’ll never forget. You can go fuck yourself.”

Seamus lunged for Connor, but Killian blocked him and pinned Seamus to the wall, getting right in his face. “You touch my brother or come anywhere near this house or my girlfriend, and you’ll regret it.”

“Is that a threat?” Seamus asked.

“It’s a promise.”

Seamus shoved Killian away and glanced up the stairs. Our eyes met for a split second. I hoped he could see how much I hated him.

“Think long and hard before you mess with me, boy,” Seamus threatened before letting himself out and shutting the door behind him.

“Killian—” Connor said.