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brother?” It’s a question that I can’t resist asking.
    He heaves a deep breath. “What do you want to know?” His features are guarded and I know I need to be careful.
    “You k now where my brother is?”
    He blinks. “Yes.”
    “And you’ll hurt him…” The rest of the question dies on my lips as tears spring into my eyes. I quickly brush them away. Travis is my blood, but we haven’t been close in a long time.
    Zane’s face softens. “He’s already hurting.”
    The answer sends me into a tailspin. “Where is he? Why is he hurting?”
    He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Why are you so interested? From what I understand, you two haven’t spoken in years.”
    I’m suddenly defensive. It sounds like he’s talked to Travis. What did they say to each other? “You’ve spoken to him?”
    “Of course.” He responds like I should’ve known the answer to that question already.
    “Well what did he say? Where is he? Why’s he hurting?” The questions tumble from my lips faster than I can consider them. I gave up on Travis because he walked out and I had no idea where he was. “Did he tell you that the last time we saw each other he tried to set me on fire?”
    A dark look crosses Zane’s face and is gone. “No. We’ve mostly discussed memories of when he was younger.”
    For some reason my face flushes with embarrassment. “He told you about us… about my mom and dad… about what happened?”
    Zane leans back. “We’ve talked in length about his childhood and yours as well.”
    “Where is he, you son of a bitch? What have you done to him?” The current of anger and fear that flashes through me is so intense I can’t control it. All I can think is that he’s got Travis locked away somewhere and that he’s hurting him, torturing him. “He’s been through enough! How dare you hurt him!” I lunge at Zane, punching his chest, tearing at his shirt.
    Zane grabs hold of my wrists. He’s strong. Too strong. “I haven’t hurt your brother. He’s safe.” His words bite through me and as quickly as the anger appeared, it vanishes.
    I sink into his chest and cry like a fucking baby. “God, Zane. Don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him.” I’m still pounding on his chest, but there’s no force behind each blow. “I swear I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt my brother.” Sobs wrack my body. Pain I’ve been holding deep inside for years comes out of me like a torrential rain.
    Zane pulls me to him. “ Shhhh. Hush. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
    I claw at his shirt, cry into his chest. I can’t stop. Now that I’ve started I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to. The dam has broken, the floodgates have been blown to pieces, and all that’s left are tears. I cry. For every fucking time my parents hurt me, every time they ignored me, left me to fend for myself, yelled hateful words at me. I cry for my father’s cowardice, for taking his life when he should’ve lived it and taught me how to live. I cry for my mother. She pushed me from her body and kept on pushing. I never felt even the tiniest inkling of love, a moment where I believed she cared about me. And I cry for my brother, because even after my mom realized she didn’t want me, she still chose to have another child. And he was unwanted too. I cry for his suffering, for every wasted second of his life. And mine.
    I cry and cry and cry.
    I hear Lincoln and Zane talking, but I’m too far gone in my mourning to understand. Too fucking wrapped up in the pain to break free.
    And I’m suddenly being carried. Zane’s arms cradling me. I hear him huffing as he walks quickly up a set of stairs. The door closes softly behind us.
    I stop crying. “Where are we?” I ask, so softly I wonder if he can hear me.
    Zane looks down at me. His eyes are filled with tender worry.
    “We’re home,” he answers.
    I close my eyes. “Okay.”