The Best Thing For Me

Chapter Thirty Seven

----------------------------------

Dedication: Niallhoranateme for the awesome cover on the side, thank you.

TRAILER FOR BTFM ON THE SIDE.  ------------>>>

[Made by Milly23]

^^^ If unavailable to view to the right, it can be found on youtube. ^^^

-----------------------------------

I blinked at him for a few moments, completely dumbfounded, allowing his words to slowly sink into my brain. It wasn't everyday you were told your brother killed somebody. After the words had rolled around in my mind, my fists clenched. I took two steps towards him and shoved him hard in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards from the impact.

"Are you accusing my brother of murder?" I hissed, emphasising the word 'murder'. My eyes were narrowed into slits and my hands trembling. My nails bit into my palm, but I barely felt it. I shot daggers with my eyes at him. He seemed completely unfazed and at ease. Which only made things worse.

"Yeah," he shrugged.

"Don't you think you've caused enough trouble for my family? I think this is seriously crossing the line."

"I'm just stating the truth." he replied.

"Well you're wrong!" I cried loudly, forgetting to keep my voice low incase anybody around could hear.

I turned on my heel and stormed away, tears of anger welling up in my eyes. I stomped to class and took my regular seat, my whole body was shaking. I took a few calming breaths, trying to regain control. After attempting to do so, my heart seemed to go back to its regular pace. I could barely focus on my work, but somehow I managed to get through it.

It wasn't until lunch time that I really had time to sit down and process his words. Now that I thought about it, things sort of made sense in a way. Luke was out looking for me, the night Mark was hit. Then he didn't come home for a few days as he was 'staying with a friend'. After all that, his car was sent away...

But that was all just a coincidence, right?

My brother, the spaced out almost trance-like guy, a murderer? 

Like, really?

I raked my fingers through my long, blonde hair and sighed deeply through my nose. I couldn't let myself believe anything until I spoke with Luke. I didn't want to make any assumptions, because that would just allow my imagination get out of hand.

Yeah, I'll talk to Luke. He'll explain everything. 

And everything will be okay.

----------------------

Everything was not okay.

In a mad rush, I'd gotten home and made a direct beeline to Luke's room. He wasn't there. I marched back out and made my way to the kitchen and collapsed roughly on one of our bar stools. I leant heavily on the kitchen island and waited for Dad to turn around.

"Afternoon." he nodded. "How was school?"

"Fine," I waved his question off dissmissively. "Where's Luke?"

"Out for a run."

I groaned, smacking my head onto the cool, kitchen surface. I sat there, listening to the sound of my own breathing for a while, thinking about what I should do. I really, really needed to talk to him. To sort all this out. It surely was just a big misunderstanding...