Page 109 of Lethal Threat

Bryan was unhinged.

When I open my eyes, Rachel is watching me sympathetically.

I sigh heavily. “That night Bryan had been yelling at Evelyn and me. Then came the attack. He’s so strong, I couldn’t fight him off.”

A shiver tightens my muscles. I remember the way his fists felt against my skin. Brutal. Fast as lightning. Deadly accurate. Blows to my face, my gut, my ribs.

Tears well on my lashes. The physical pain from his attack is long gone. But the deeper damage will always be there.

Rachel’s hand covers mine. “Awe, hun, you need help. And far more than I can give you.”

Tears spill over my lashes and drip onto the kitchen bar before I can catch them.

Concern fills Rachel’s eyes as she watches me.

I try to hold on. But I can’t. It all comes dumping out ofme. I haven’t told anyone else before. But the weight of it on my shoulders feels like too much.

“Bryan is a big man and he went wild. Hitting me all over. I went down instantly. Smashing my other cheek against the apartment wall as I fell. Blood ran down my face, filled my right eye as I lay in total shock on the floor. It was horrible. Inconceivable. Evelyn was screaming in the background, but my ears were ringing so loudly I couldn’t make out his girlfriend’s words.”

I press my hand to my chest as my heart spasms. Thinking about that night always makes me feel like this. I take a minute to compose myself but I need to let this out.

“He had hurt me badly. Blood clouded my vision. I was trying to wipe it out when Cole, my boyfriend at the time, walked in the door. I couldn’t see much, but I could feel his fury and then he started to scream at Bryan. I thought my brother might die that night because Cole was so unchained.”

She hisses. “So bad. Honey, that’s awful. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Dashing away more tears, I try to steady myself.

It’s over. It’s past.

But my hands are shaking. I squeeze them together.

“That night is seared into my memory. It was the first time I’d been terrified of my brother. But I knew he was sick. Cole had wanted me to have him arrested before, but I didn’t want to. A few weeks before, my brother had slapped me and shaken me when he was high and out of control. But never had he hit me with his fists. That night, he was like someone else, a monster in my brother’s skin. But I knew it was a sickness. I really believed, and still do, that being arrested that night made things worse.”

Her eyes are filled with empathy as she watches mestruggle to keep the tears in. “Cole was trying to protect you.”

“He was, but it was violent. I knew it was going to be a horrible fight. They’re nearly equal in size and both trained to fight.”

I can still feel how raw my voice was in those terrifying moments as I yelled,Stop! Don’t, Cole. Please, he’s sick. He just needs help.

But it was useless.

“Cole was as irate as my brother. He was screaming, ‘Motherfucker. Sierra’s a woman. You could have fucking KILLED HER!’ It was the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen.”

Rachel grips my hand tighter. Silently encouraging me to let it all out.

I swallow twice, fighting the pain in my throat. “Before I could get my battered body moving, Cole pinned him to the floor and connected to 911 on his phone. Cole knew I was taking my brother to get mental help. But he called the cops. And Bryan’s downward spiral truly took on a new meaning. The dishonorable discharge had been first. Then came the arrest. He did a short sentence, then disappeared on the streets afterward.”

The ache inside of my chest threatens to swallow me. Rubbing both hands over my face, I try to shake off the shattering pain and exhaustion.

I’m shaking. I’m queasy.

Rachel wraps her arms around me as I sit on her kitchen stool. “I had no idea all that had happened. I can understand why you feel alone in this. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“No, no. I can’t let you get involved. I’m already worriedthat I could have put you in danger by coming here, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

She steps back, crosses her arms. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself. I was raised by a survivalist. Let me just get you some cash and?—”

I push off the stool. “The car is enough. I promise I’ll bring it back to you.”