Rage The anxiety bouncing off Lucas as the elevator travels up toward our penthouse apartment is unmistakable, and I canât help but feel guilty that I helped create that for him. Cole can sense it too; his eyes are filled with pity, and they keep drifting toward him followed by a childish glare in my direction, letting me know I caused this whole fucked-up situation.
I refuse to acknowledge the fact, instead resting lazily against the wall until the elevator comes to a stop. I push off and head toward the door.
âCole. Cole, I . . .â Lucas attempts to speak to Cole, but his words are lost, and he doesnât manage to formulate a sentence. His face is ghastly pale, making me for the first time think thereâs more to his behavior than meets the eye.
Cole grips Lucas by the neck, pulling him in so his forehead rests against his. It doesnât look like a loverâs embrace, so I watch on.
âItâs okay, brother. We got this.â Cole grins, but Lucas shakes his head, refusing to listen.
I choose to ignore their little tiff and open the apartment door. The first thing to fill my nostrils is something of nostalgia, but I canât quite place what it isâââsomething Italian smellingâââmaking regret hang heavily in my stomach when I realize the effort my brothers have gone to for my homecoming. They know Italian food is my favorite.
Cole pushes past me. âRage, this is Tia. Our Tia.â
I turn toward him, and my eyes instantly clash with those so familiar to me, my heart feels like itâs being ripped from my chest. I canât breathe, and my mind floats somewhere so high I canât reach it. My legs weaken as my chest tightens, air sucked so forcefully from my lungs, I lose all power and drop to my knees on a deafening wail.
It takes me so long to realize itâs not my wail. Not my voice. Itâs hers.
The same one I drove away from five years ago. The same voice that ripped out my heart and shredded it to pieces, leaving it so mangled, not another living soul could get close enough again.
âLucas? Lucas, what the hellâs happening?â Cole is crying above her, but I canât move. My head is dropped to the ground, and my fists are balled tight as I kneel on the floor, shutting out everything around me.
This canât be real. This canât be her.
With them?
My head suddenly snaps up at the realization.
Sheâs with them.
Rage fills my body, anger like nothing before. I see red, red so fucking deep thereâs never going to be enough blood to drain from their bodies.
I fly toward Cole. Heâs cradling her in his arms. Heâs cradling whatâs mine.
Mine!
Lucas tackles me to the ground; heâs so quick, I forgot he was even here.
âTake her to the spare room. Now!â he screams toward Cole, who rushes away with my girl.
I hit his jaw with a satisfying crack, then throw my head back and slam it against his nose. I ignore his words and his grunts of pain when I hammer my fist into his chest.
I want her back. I need her fucking back here with me where she belongs.
Mine.
I wrap my legs around his body and use them to throw him off me, quickly jumping to my feet. I rush toward the corridor, but Cole stands there, his eyes mirroring mine, fierce with rage.
I spit blood from my mouth.
âWhat the fuck are you doing, Rage?â He glares at me like Iâm a psychopath, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
âHe doesnât know, Rage. He doesnât know.â I can sense Lucas standing behind me, but his words do little to relax me.
âGet the fuck away from the door!â
Cole ignores me. Instead, he looks over my shoulder at Lucas, asking, âDoesnât know what?â
âI said. Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. The. Door.â My voice gets deadlier on each word.
âDoesnât know fucking what?â Coleâs unraveling. Even I can sense it in my state.
âItâs her.â Lucasâs words sound broken even to my unapologetic ears. I refuse to listen to anything other than the whimpers behind the door.
âHer?â
My fists ball tighter, the blood from my knuckles dripping to the floor.
âTia.â
My head spins back in Lucasâs direction. âThatâs not her fucking name!â
He licks his cracked lip. âItâs her name now, brother.â
The tight band around my last bit of self-control snaps, and I lunge for him once again, slamming him up against the wall with such force the plaster cracks.
Coleâs arm tightens around my neck in a choke hold, but I refuse to give in. I refuse to release the bastard who betrayed me.
âEnough, Rage. Enough!â Cole tugs me back harder, but I let my fingers grip Lucasâs neck tighter. Iâm acutely aware that he isnât fighting, almost accepting his fate.
His lips begin to turn blue, but my mind is so contorted in rage, I refuse to acknowledge anything other than the red haze surrounding me.
I hate him so much.
âHer nameâs Thalia. Sheâs mine.â I whimper lowly as realization dawns on Coleâs devastated face.
I hate them all.
To be continuedâ¦