Brother's Betrayal

Chapter Twenty Two {Queries}

Ever since being a child, I had been overflowing with curiosity. It was the reason why I had been so interested in journalism, about writing down my findings, writing things down for other people to know, to learn, because it would sate their curiosity too. This, however, I wouldn't share.

After leaving the funeral, I had unintentionally been ignoring everyone with the silent treatment. It was infuriating Dillan, saddening Aurelia, Janet and Lucas weren't around enough to notice but Fletcher seemed to be the only one who was sympathetic. When I came down to eat, he wouldn't try to make me speak but instead would hand me a slice of toast, fruits or whatever else was on offer. Fletcher understood; Dillan thought I was ignoring him.

During the gloomy drive back, he had encouraged me to talk to him. He was unable to deal with any absence of skin contact and he refused to release my hand until I tried to sleep and tucked mself up against the door, away from him. Then, he had carried me to bed - I slept through the entire journey, having received no sleep from the night before in the hotel because I was pinned to Dillan's chest the entire night. His snoring had worsened. Eventually, he grew content in ignoring me back.

Now, three days since, resting on the bed we supposedly shared (he would sleep on the edge, maybe a hand across my side) was the most I could be bothered to move. It was raining and the television was almost muted so I could daydream, content with the pattering against the window.

A creak alerted me that someone had paused outside my room. Unhurriedly, I turned over, turning off the TV in the process, not surprised to hear a knock on the door; I had locked it. About to dismiss them, I finally stood and moved to open the door. Dillan stood over me, causing me to jump back from the suddenly close proxity and abrupt appearance, and immediately I was confused by the conflicted expression across his face, which piqued my interest.

"We need to talk."

I nodded. I wanted to talk later so I began to close the door but he stopped it with a single hand, managing to slide inside.

"Anya, now." The insistence of his tone shocked me. Wide eyed, I watched Dillan. Frowning, his shoulders rose then dropped as he exhaled. "We're having this talk now."

I shook my head. In response, he paced away and I walked into my room, closer to the bed. "It's long overdue. I know I want to explain and deep down you want to know, don't you?"

*I don't want to know enough to have the talk now*, I longed to say. Dillan's eyes shot between mine and he finally slouched. As I thought he was relenting and I began to ease into a relaxed stance, he suddenly said, "Unless you verbally say no, we're talking."

Naturally, I said, "No."

"Good." Although croaky, he understood my word. "Since you can speak, you can go first." Unerringly, I stared back at him. "I promise not to get mad, Anya." A laugh almost overwhelmed me. "Why did you run - truthfully?"

Stunned by his question, I pushed myself upright and shook my head. "We're not talking."

"Yes we are, sweetheart. Answer the question." For the third time, I almost refused. Dillan marched past me and I stumbled away, nearer to the window seat; he locked the door before approaching me and stopping. "*Please.* Were you scared? Frightened, afraid, loathing? Did you hate me?" His voice began to raise until he quickly stopped.

"All."

"All?" Dillan's face morphed to anguish. "I did all of that?"

"Kind of, I didn't hate you," I mumbled. I wasn't sure why I was so calm about revealing everything. The false aura of security Dillan radiated was wrongly relaxing me. "It was mainly Fletch, slightly you. A bit of hurt."