Fifteen years old ...

“Damien?”

Please, go away.

“Damien, listen to me.”

I kept my eyes closed and didn’t move a muscle. I pretended that if I stayed still and didn’t speak, then no one could see me. I told myself I was trapped in a nightmare, and that at any minute, I would wake up and everything would be back to normal. That was all this was—a horrible dream. There was no way any of it could be real.

“Damien, open the door.”

I gritted my teeth and tried to force my brother’s voice out of my head. I kicked the door I laid next to, but still, I didn’t speak.

“It was an accident,” my eldest brother assured me through the white oak wood. “Everything is gonna be okay. Just open—”

“I killed him!” I cut Ryder off with a scream. “I killed Trent! I shot him. He’s dead because of me!”

I didn’t realise I was crying until I felt hot tears slide down my temples and into my hair. I reached up and covered my face with my hands as sobs tore free of my throat. I had been lying on my bedroom floor for what felt like hours, but in reality, it was probably only one. I had run up here and locked myself in when Dominic told me that the doctor said that Trent was dead. I lifted my hands from my face and punched myself in the head as I cried.

I wanted to run away and never look back, I wanted to forget my life and start over somewhere new ... but I knew that would never happen.

“Damien.” Ryder sighed, long and deep. “Please, just unlock the door so we can talk.”

There was nothing to talk about. Trent was dead because I lost my temper and shot him.

“Just go away!” I shouted. “Just leave me alone!”

I heard commotion outside in the hallway, then Kane snapped, “Open the door or I’m breaking it down. I’m deadass serious.”

I believed him, but I simply didn’t care. My chest hurt so much, my stomach felt sick, and my mind raced with terror. My brothers were the least of my problems at the moment.

I jumped when an uproarious smack sounded next to me.

“Kane!” I shouted. “Stop!”

“Open the fucking door then. Now!”

I scrambled to my feet, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. My four brothers stood in the hallway staring at me. Dominic was the first to step forward, but I jumped back away from him. Hurt cascaded across his face, but he said nothing. My brothers knew I was upset, but Dominic knew that what happened was killing me inside. He didn’t have to ask me; he just had to look in my eyes. We could always tell what was wrong with the other without asking questions.

“Marco’s gonna kill me,” I said, wiping my face with my hands. “I have to leave before he sends—”

“He’s not gonna touch you,” Ryder cut me off. “I told you that everything was going to be okay, and I meant it.”

I sniffled. “Trent was his nephew, and I killed him. Marco won’t let me get away with that, Ryder.”

I killed a member of our crew, and I knew the punishment for that. I had a debt to pay, a life for a life. Marco wouldn’t care that I was a kid. He had killed people younger than me for far less.

My brother stepped forward and placed his hand on my shoulder. “We’ve taken care of the problem. You’re safe.”

I looked from Ryder to my other brothers, then back again. “What’d you guys do?”

“We had a meeting with Marco,” Dominic answered. “We made him an offer, and he accepted it. You aren’t in danger.”

I couldn’t comprehend what they were saying, and before I could question them, Ryder pushed me over to my bed and sat me down.

“Ask us questions in a minute,” he said, sitting next to me. “Right now, tell me what happened.”

My mouth went dry. “You know what happened.”

“I know bits and pieces. I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

I looked down to my feet. “I feel sick about it, Ryder.”

“It was an accident,” Alec stated.

I looked up at him, and said, “But it wasn’t.”

No one spoke.

“I aimed the gun at his chest, and I pulled the trigger because I wanted to kill him for what he said about Mom and Dad. I wanted ... I wanted him to pay for it.”

I looked back down at the floor. My mind kept replaying what happened over and over, but I forced myself not to focus on it. I didn’t want to relive it.

“I wish I hadn’t done it,” I said. “I just got so mad, and my chest hurt when he said Mom and Dad deserved to be dead. I couldn’t think after that.”

I lifted my hands to my face and for a minute or two, complete silence filled the room ... until a sick thought washed over me.

“I’m just like him.”

“Who?” Dominic asked.

I clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking.

“Dad,” I answered. “I always wanted him to love us, to love me, but I knew he was a bad person. I knew he did horrible things, and now so have I. I’m just like him.”

I loved my parents much to my brothers’ resentment. They did not understand how I could love people who didn’t love me back, and neither did I, but I loved them all the same. It shook my entire world when they died, and my brothers knew that.

“No,” Ryder said, turning me to look at him. “No, you aren’t. He did everything he did because he enjoyed it. He was happy. I can see by just looking at you how much you regret what happened, bud. You aren’t like him. You aren’t even close.”

I swallowed and inhaled a deep breath before I started speaking.

“Trent kissed Nala. I knew he had a crush on her, and it pissed me off that he would try to move in on her. I thought he was my friend.” I shook my head. “He smiled when I jumped him; it was like he knew I wanted to fight, and I was more than happy to give him what he wanted. I haven’t been feeling like myself since Mom and Dad died, so I wanted to take out all of the pain I felt on Trent.”

I paused to wipe my nose.

“When he said they deserved to be dead because they were traitors, my mind just snapped. I can’t remember much after that. I just know I was holding the gun and pulling the trigger because I wanted to. I wanted to kill him, but when he fell to the ground and I saw the blood, I instantly regretted everything. I’m a murderer.”

“Stop it,” Dominic suddenly snapped. “Just stop. You’re a good person. You didn’t plan to hurt Trent; it just happened because he provoked you.”

That didn’t make me feel better, but I nodded to keep my brothers happy.

“What did you mean when you said you took care of things with Marco?” I asked Ryder.

“We offered to work for him to work off your debt, and he agreed. You won’t be hurt.”

Dread washed over me.

“What work will you have to do?”

“Business kind,” Kane answered. “We don’t know all the details yet, but we’ll all be in this together, so don’t worry about a thing.”

Don’t worry? How the fuck could I not worry? This was all my fault, and they wanted me not to worry.

“I want to work—”

“No,” Ryder cut me off. “You’re not involved.”

“Not involved?” I repeated. “This is all because of me.”

“I don’t care,” my brother continued. “The terms were we work for Marco, not you.”

I didn’t know what to say. At that very moment, I didn’t feel like I was their brother. I felt lesser than them. They didn’t treat me like their equal. They treated me like I was a baby they had to protect because no one else would.

“I’m staying in here with you tonight.”

I looked at Dominic, and said, “Why?”

“Because I want to,” he answered.

I didn’t argue with him because I knew I would most likely need him to keep me calm. I wasn’t like my brothers; when they got scared, they dealt with it, but when I got scared, I ran to one of them to make me feel better. I always did, and I hated it, but it was something I couldn’t change about myself. Maybe that need for affection was why my brothers treated me like a kid under their feet in the first place.

I was a kid, but I had a responsibility coming my way that wasn’t childlike at all. Nala, my girlfriend of two years, was ten weeks pregnant with my child. She told me a few days ago, and I hadn’t talked to her since. I was fifteen. I wasn’t ready to be a father because I was still a kid myself. I didn’t know the first thing about babies, and I didn’t want to. I was terrified to become a father, but I was even more terrified of having a baby and loving it, because ever since my parents died, I had a fear that all the people I loved would leave me.

I had even found myself pretending that I didn’t even really love my brothers because I was so scared of one of them dying and leaving me. My mind had developed a fear, and I had no idea how to overcome it ... and what was worse, I didn’t know if I wanted to. I killed someone. I took another person’s life. Maybe God was punishing me for that; maybe the pain and fear I lived with was what I deserved.

Everything was all my fault.

Everything.