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Fallon had three older brothers. One by blood, Copeland. One adoptive, Shepard. And one foster, Trace.
Like my mom. My dad. Emilia. And me, in a way. The me I’d been then had died right along with them, thanks to old wiring in an even older house. A home that had been so full of life and love once but had been left half-burned for the past fourteen years.
“The only thing they would want is for you to be happy.” My throat burned as it worked to hold back a sob. “I know. But sometimes being happy feels like the worst betrayal of all.”
But an asshole was better than the alternative. Better than caring. About anything or anyone. Caring was a recipe for nothing but agony.
Happiness was the greatest torture of all because it could all be taken away—and it was so much worse than if you’d never experienced it at all.
Only the last section of each book remained dusted with black flecks from the fire. Because as frequently as I revisited each one, I couldn’t seem to force myself to make it to the end. Of any of them. Something about the endings was too painful, too final, even if they were happy.
“Don’t do people. Love dogs.” And with that, he stalked back to the main site and his crew.
“You shouldn’t hide a damned thing, Reckless. Especially not something that proves how strong you are.”
Pots and pans clattered from the kitchen. “Quiet,” Nora hissed. “Too late. Everyone’s up within a three-mile radius,” Kye called back.
“Because I’m holding on to my last shred of humanity, and if you stand here in those goddamn shorts for another ten seconds, it’s going to snap.”
Rho slowed as she reached the end of her gravel drive, putting on her blinker. Biscuit didn’t miss the opportunity. He launched himself over the divider and landed hard in my lap. Pain flared, hot and bright. I let out a strangled sound that didn’t resemble anything human. “Biscuit!” Rho scolded. She winced as she took in my face. “Are you okay?” “I’ll never have children, but other than that, dandy,” I rasped.
Dr. Lutz stepped back to retrieve a syringe from the counter. “Keep a hold of him. He might feel a little pinch, but that’s it.” As she moved in to grab the scruff of Biscuit’s neck, her eyes widened. “Oh, no. He’s pooping.” And then, I felt it.
“Sleep, Reckless. I’ll keep the demons away.” And he did.
“Can’t handle being away from you,” he croaked. “Especially not when you’re hurting.” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to care about anyone. But you shot that all to hell.” My heart hammered against my ribs, butterfly wings dying to break free. A muscle fluttered in Anson’s cheek. “You didn’t sneak past my defenses, you bulldozed them. Reckless to the bone. And maybe you made me brave enough to be reckless, too.”
