Why Me | Book 1

Chapter 35

When we reach my house, he stops in front of my driveway, killing the engine of the car. I unbuckle my seat belt, gather my things that are lying either to my feet or in my lap and turn to him.

"Thank you for today," I say with a smile. He shrugs it off, a grin on his face.

"Any time, Peach."

As I reach for the door handle, he gently grabs my arm, turning me around to face him. My breath hitches as he's a lot closer to my face than I expected.

"I just feel like you need a lot more freedom. Be away from that house. He's caging you in and that is not okay. I know he's just trying to protect you, but he's just archiving the opposite with his methods. Him and I have different opinions when it comes to protecting our siblings. My sisters live thousands of miles away from me and I'm sure I have more information about their actions than your brother has about what you do."

Does he know? If so, did Troy tell him? Maybe I'm just paranoid and he just really worries about my mental health when it comes to my brother being overprotective like a fucking lion over it's dinner.

"Thank you, again. And you're right, sometimes I'm going insane in that house." He nods, releasing my arm from his hold and lets me open the door.

°°°

"Where have you been?" my brother shouts from the living room as I close the front door behind me.

"I got distracted, walked around a little and stopped to get ice cream." It's not an entire lie, I think as I watch him get up from our couch as I walk past the living room to get upstairs.

"Where's your stuff then?" he suddenly asks, causing me to miss a step and land on the stairs with a loud thud.

"I left it at Troy's, he had an appointment, so I told him I would get everything sometime later and walked instead. On the way home was an ice cream truck, so I stopped, got ice cream, sat at the park and then forgot the time until you texted me."

"And it took you 30 fucking minutes to get your ass here?"

I was in a really good mood, until the second I stepped inside this house. And now I'm reminded why my good mood just faded like the Avengers in Infinity War. Sitting on the upper stair step, I cross my arms, glaring down at him.

"You know what Tucker, fuck you. You lock me up like I'm your dog. You can't blame me for staying away from this house."
"You're my little sister, you-"

"Oh shut up," I interrupt him, get up from the stairs and stalk into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Sometimes I'd really like to smack some sense into his little bean brain. But when I think about it, I might cause the opposite and slam his last brain cells out, instead of adding some.

I plop down on my bed, accepting the silence in the house. After a while, I hear shuffling in front of my bedroom door. Surely, I won't allow him in, he messed up really badly this time. I will not give in. He thinks locking me up is okay? Hell nah, it pisses me off for quite a while now.

And then, there's the light knock on the door I was waiting for, followed by a quiet, "Emy?"

"Go away."

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. He's doing what he's always doing. Acting like the sweet big brother, who's sorry for going too far. But you know what? I'm not buying his shit anymore.

"I said, go away."

"Please, can I just come in so we can talk?"
I rip the door open, glaring at him. Tucker stumbles backwards, surprise drawn across his face. Casually, I walk past him, quietly closing the bathroom door behind me. I take my time, flushing the toilet, washing my hands, it's like I let everything happen in slow motion. When I walk back out, he's standing right before me.