I didn’t want to know, and I didn’t want them to know, either.

For once, the open sky overhead did nothing to calm the twisting, aching awful inside me. The trees and grass and dirt weren’t comforting or familiar. They just reminded me what I’d known as a child: No matter how far you ran, you couldn’t stay out of arm’s reach forever.

Sooner or later, you had to go home.

I made it into the house and up to the bedroom Free and I had been sharing without running into Jude or Bales, for which I was grateful. But my luck ran out when I opened the bedroom door.

“You look about as good as Jude does.” Free was standing near the window. I wondered where she’d been, wondered if she’d talked to Jude, wondered if she knew.

“I need to lie down,” I said.

I need you to not be here.

“Jude is a happy guy,” Free commented, ignoring my silent message. “Pathologically, unerringly, purposefully happy at almost all times.” She paused. “If I were a betting woman, I’d wager that if the two of you had a fight, Jude’s not the one who picked it.”

“It wasn’t a fight.” I didn’t elaborate. What did you call using the truth as a weapon? What was the word for looking at someone you loved and feeling like your guts had been hollowed out?

“You hurt him.” Free was never one to sugarcoat things. “Whether you meant to or not—”

“I meant to,” I said quietly.

Free gave me a long, assessing look. “Then you and I have a fundamental disagreement about how you treat family.”

She was right. I knew she was right. But all I could do was repeat myself as I turned my back on her. “I need to lie down.”

I need you to go away.

“Not until you tell me what happened.” Free’s hand closed around my arm. She forced me to face her, and for a moment—just a moment—I wanted to hurt her. Not the way I’d hurt Jude. I wanted to hurt her the way I’d hurt Gabriel when he’d grabbed me. I wanted to let everything inside me—the anger and the sorrow and the fear—out.

No.

“Seriously, K, Miscreant to Miscreant—”

“Go away, Free.” I felt desperate, but I sounded angry.

Free dropped my arm. For a split second, I saw something raw and vulnerable cross her features, and then all hint of emotion disappeared from her face. “Fine.”

When I heard the bedroom door shut behind her, I shuddered. Once I started shaking, I couldn’t stop. I curled into a ball on the bed, and a desperate, keening sound made its way out of my throat.

I was supposed to be stronger than this.

I was supposed to be better than this.