Page 36 of Break Me

I don’t wait for Pop or Knox to say anything else. I turn and walk straight inside and climb the stairs. By the time I reach the second floor, my legs are shaking so hard I can barely stay upright. When I close my bedroom door behind me, everything inside me breaks open.

Not a sob.

A collapse.

I can’t tell where the fear ends, and the heartbreak begins as I lean back against the wood, sliding down until I’m curled on the floor, knees pulled to my chest.

Downstairs, voices erupt.

“My sister,” Knox yells. “He’s been fucking around with Rae.”

“Lower your voice,” Pop snaps back. “There’s been enough damage done today.”

“He betrayed me.” Knox throws something. The crash rattles the floorboards under my feet. “He lied to my face. For months.”

“He’s still your brother,” Pop fires back. “And you don’t bury your brother unless you want the whole club to fall apart.”

“I can’t stand the thought of him touching her,” Knox snarls. “God, Pop, she’s only nineteen⁠—”

“He didn’t force a damn thing,” Pop cuts him off. “Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

“She’s my baby sister,” he says, quieter this time. More wounded than angry.

Pop's voice softens. “I know. But she's not a little girl anymore, Knox.”

“But he…” Knox chokes on the words. “He took her from under our roof.”

“He didn’t take anything,” Pop says. “She chose him.”

“How can you say that like it makes it better?” Knox’s voice cracks. “How are you even calm right now? That’s your daughter.”

Pop’s footsteps move, slower, more controlled. “I’m calm because losing our heads won’t fix this.”

“Fix this?” Knox’s voice spikes into something ragged. “He lied to us.”

A beat of silence. Then, “I’m not happy about how this happened,” Pop says. “But I’m not throwing gasoline on it, either.”

Knox’s laugh is harsh. “You’re not disgusted? You’re not even—God, how are you not sickened by this?”

My stomach twists. I press my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound.

“I’m not disgusted by a man who loves my daughter.”

“He betrayed you. And you’re talking like it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Pop’s tone darkens. “But all this anger won’t fix a damn thing.”

“Fix it?” Knox’s boots scrape across the floor. “Rae’s just a kid, and he’s been sneaking around with her for months. How is that not tearing you apart?”

Pop doesn’t answer at first. When he does, it’s low. “What tears me apart is the idea of losing her because we handled this wrong.”

A chair scrapes violently. Knox kicking it or throwing it. “He has her heart,” he spits. “And we never even got a say.”

My breath stops.

Pop murmurs something I can’t quite make out.

Knox cuts him off. “And you’re not even disgusted?”