chapter twenty-two

Embry liked to play with the ends of my hair. When my head was rested up against his chest and I was listening to his heartbeat, he twirled his finger around the thick strands that had fallen from my ponytail. The sand found itself in our socks and the waves reached up to kiss the tips of our shoes.

"So the Cullen's can't kill any human?" I asked, looking out into the ocean. The idea of the family had been lingering in my thoughts for a while. I wondered what they looked like and what their skin felt like and what it would feel like to be around one of them. And as much as I couldn't understand Embry and the wolf boys, I couldn't understand them more. I had a lot of questions and even more than that, a strong resentment in my gut I couldn't explain away.

"Nope," he replied easily.

I titled my head. "Not even one?"

"Not even one."

I snorted. "Well, that's kind of dumb."

"What?"

"I just mean, what if killing someone is in the best public interest?"

Embry briefly pulled away to give me a look. "Could you explain to me how could killing a person be in the best public interest?"

"Okay, here me out," I said, sitting up and shifting to face him. He had a bemused expression, eyes squinted in the sun and smile gentle. I wanted to pinch his cheeks. "Let's say that there's like, a serial killer loose. And, hypothetically, he got off on a technicality. So he's still out there killing and the law can't get him. He's really just there running free, killing anyone he can get his hands on. If one of the Cullen's killed him, would you still consider it a treaty violation?"

He pursed his lips and leaned back on his elbow. "I mean, yeah, I think so."

"That's stupid," I argued. "They could be like superheroes."

"I don't think it's stupid. It's not their place to interfere with human life." And then, as an afterthought, he added, "And besides, if that highly unrealistic situation were to ever happen, we would put a stop to it. And probably without killing anyone, I think. Aren't I superhero enough for you?"

I furrowed my brow. "Can werewolves be superheroes?"

Embry leaned forward. "I'm actually not technically a werewolf. I'm a shapeshifter. Shapeshifting is a superpower. Like that guy."

"Right," I said with a grin. "That one guy."

"So you don't need vigilante vampires," Embry said with a tone of finality and I wondered if he ever would learn that he would never win an argument with me.

"I still think there's a situation they could kill someone for the greater good," I said, feeling stuck on the subject. "Like, if I got kidnapped by a serial killer and he was slowly torturing me to death, you wouldn't want one of them to stop it?"

Embry rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into against his chest again. "I wouldn't let anyone get even close enough to hurt you. Duh."

"Let's say you're asleep."

"I would wake up."

"Okay, then both of your legs and both of your arms are broken."

"I have accelerated healing on my side."

"Well, in this hypothetical. You're doing something really far away."

"I run fast," he insisted.

"Alright," I said with a groan, "if you're gonna be difficult, then in this exact scenario, you lost all your limbs. They got cut off and now you're just a head and a torso. They're not gonna grow back. And then I'm in Seattle and some serial killer throws me onto a boat. We are ten miles away from any land. There is one Cullen there. Would it be a treaty violation then?"

He was silent for a few moments, tensed and not moving expect for the rise and fall of his chest. "This isn't a fun thought experiment for me. I don't like imagining scenarios that I can't protect you," Embry said voice sounding strained.

"Is someone like, paying you to ensure my safety or something?" I half-joked.

"Seeing you safe is payment enough in itself," he said, his words laced with a sincerity that I couldn't understand. Embry talked like that all the time; his voice would dip into some emotion that felt like it was just out of my grasp, so far away from me.

I scoffed. "You talk like a poorly scripted teen drama."

"You talk like Paul Rudd in Clueless," Embry mumbled, gently flicking my nose with a flush under his cheeks.

"What?"

Embry rolled his eyes at me. "You know Clueless. Don't act like you don't know Clueless."

"Why do you know Clueless?" I asked, laughing.

The redness under his cheeks was spreading. "What, I'm not allowed to like lighthearted nineties chick flicks? I can't have a sensitive side?"

"I mean, you are. I guess I just would've assumed you'd pick a better movie."

"Like what?"

"I dunno," I said with a shrug. "Like, American Beauty."

Embry laughed. It was one of those heavy laughs that echoed off the rocks and made me smile. "God, you're such a hipster. 'My name's Remy and I don't like feel-good movies. I only like weird culty films about depression. I hate joy.'" The voice he used to mock me was high-pitched and squeaky and he sounded like a chew toy.

"Oh, I'm sorry that I like things that are good," I said, voice defiant.

"Good doesn't always mean enjoyable. And bad things can sometimes be enjoyable."

"Only if you have bad taste."

There was the sound of rubber tires rumbling against the gravel from behind us and Embry groaned, dropping his head on my shoulder. "Speaking of bad taste."

I turned to see Bobby's car pulling into the little parking lot behind us. I gently hit Embry's shoulder. "Don't be mean," I scolded, "I'd be homeless without Bobby."

"Um, no, you would not," he said, jerking his head up and frowning at me. "You absolute drama queen."

"Hey, jackass!" she called at Embry, head popped out of her car window with a heavy, impatient frown on her face. "It's six. I get custody now."

"You better go with her," Embry said, standing and offering me his hand, "I can't afford to bring her into court right now."

Things had been like that recently. My time was almost exclusively split between the two of them, and the whole not having a car or parents thing lead them both to this weird unspoken agreement to share me, to make sure I was safe and that I got where needed to go and I had everything I needed.

Bobby slammed the driver's side door while my seatbelt clicked. Her hands were tense on the wheel and eyes fixed. When she drove, she didn't say anything to me. And I knew that this wasn't a sudden tenseness due to the growth of Embry's friendship with me (though she did express her disapproval, over and over again, for about twenty minutes at a time). The cause for the flicker of annoyance in her eyes and the clenching and unclenching of her jaw was not anything I had done, but the simple fact that her parents were home.

They arrived at her house late the night before, when Bobby and I were eating a makeshift cheese plate and watching a documentary on the death of JonBenét Ramsey. Her parents walked into the home, loud and bustling, with heavy shopping bags and echoing complaints. When I first saw her mother, with the same long black hair, full lips and entrancing eyes as her daughter, I understood where Bobby got her beauty. And when I saw her dad, phone pressed to his ear and greeting his daughter with nothing but a half-hearted wave, I knew where Bobby got her attitude problem from.

While her mother dotted over her and me and asked questions to distract from her disappearing father, Bobby's whole demeanor changed. There was something sour in her face and in her words and that sourness was rotting and becoming unbearable and I thought that maybe Bobby was the only person alive who hated her parents more than I hated mine.

"Alright, we need to have a talk," she said suddenly, while her car was halfway back to her house.

I threw her a grin. "Did you steal someone else's girlfriend again?"

"No," she said, tone sharp and serious, something that felt foreign in Bobby's voice. "It's about Embry."

Her words made me tilt my head and frown. She didn't care for him, and talking about him usually involved empty threats and monetary bribes for me to stop talking to him. Bobby thought I let him in my life too easily. She thought he should've had to work harder for me to give him the time of day. But Bobby didn't know the things I knew. "Oh?"

"You gotta cut the guy loose," she explained, voice hard.

"What are you talking about?"

Bobby let out a heavy sigh and tapped her fingers against the wheel. Her eyes were flickering across the road like she was looking for the right words to say. It wasn't like her. Bobby always had at least ten different things to say on deck. "Normally, I don't care about men or their feelings. But Remy," she shot me a pleading look, "that boy is so hopelessly in love with you it's almost painful to watch. Like, it's all over his face whenever he looks at you."

I snickered. "That's stupid."

"No, it's really not," Bobby asserted, leaning forward in her seat. "You can't tell because you're so totally wrapped up in age-appropriate angst that you don't even notice the way he watches you. And it's not just some little crush he's got on you. Embry is so in love with you it like oozes from him." Bobby paused, and I watched the way she breathed, slowly and controlled. "I've never seen anything like it. He'd jump in front of a bullet for you," she said, voice quieter than before.

"Me and Embry are just friends. He knows that," I asserted, feeling uncomfortable in my seat and in my skin. I didn't like the implication of her words and I didn't like what they could've meant in any context.

Bobby's tone was lighter when she said, "I actually refuse to believe that you're so dumb that you wouldn't notice it."

"So what, you're saying that it's better for me to just totally cut him out of my life?" I snapped, discomfort growing. "That I should stop talking to him because you have some weird theory that's probably not even true?"

"No, Remy, I'm saying that you're leading him on," she explained to me slowly. People had been talking to me like that a lot, words stressed like I was too stupid to comprehend them. "When you hold his hand it doesn't mean anything to you, but to him it's hope. And I'm telling you this because you're my best friend and I care about you, so I gotta hold you accountable. It's really fucked up to keep leading him on when you know you don't feel the same way about him." She paused, looking at me with accusing eyes and raised eyebrows. "Unless, of course, you do feel the same, and you just haven't told me about it."

We were pulling into her driveway and I couldn't wait to be anywhere else, talking about anything but this. "Don't be stupid."

"Fine," she said simply. "Then cut him off. Let him know it's not gonna happen and that he should give up hope instead of dangling him along like this. It's cruel." Bobby parked her car and yanked the keys out of the ignition but sat still, looking at me with expectant eyes.

"Are you sure you're not just misdirecting your annoyance at your parents being back?" I shot back, hand on the door handle but staying still.

Bobby shrugged. "Doesn't matter if I am or if I'm not. I'm still right."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever." I pushed open her door and stomped towards the front door and Bobby threw a 'love you,' my way as I marched towards her front door.

The Chinese takeout hung off the edge of my fork and I wondered if Bobby's mom genuinely thought the Styrofoam box full of lo mien would pass off as her own cooking. But I wasn't about to complain because the noodles were the first thing I had eaten in months that tasted like food and not like the dust building up on my life. I sat with the half empty container on my lap, watching the news from Bobby's bedroom floor, feeling both full and starved.

Bobby was on her bed, legs kicking in the air and she she rambled on over the phone, talking to someone about what a bastard her dad is and how spineless her mother was and I was thinking that maybe if my dad married her mom we might get a half-functioning pair of adults.

I shoved another forkful of noodles into my mouth and as the newscaster droned on about the unprecedented death toll in Seattle. There was something so unbearably unsettling about a pretty blonde lady with pretty blue eyes, groomed and pampered, standing in front of yellow tape and a large and lumpy blue bag. I had to swallow the food whole because I thought if I kept chewing I might've thrown up my food. There were so many dead, countless bodies and the thought of it made an emptiness spread throughout my gut. Those numbers on a screen weren't just unprecedented statistics, they represented the number of families wrecked by loss. I wondered how many of them would end up like my family. Torn up into pieces without hope of ever being glued back together.

Loosing someone is something indescribable. It is heavy and gripping and contorting. When they showed me Briah's bones and told me he was dead, I didn't go numb. Everything inside of me was just so overwhelmed and unequipped for that type of pain that I became nothing. And the grief would sometimes take a hold of me, punching holes in me and twisting me around and shaking me. I would sit there, thinking over and over that it was simply not true, and that there was nothing that would keep me and my brother apart. And I didn't think I ever got past that point, of holding onto hope that I would get my brother back, that I would get to return to the person I was before I lost him. That hope never went away, just dwindled.

And I looked at the numbers on the screen and wondered how many families would get to have their hope reignited like me.

When I brought another forkful to my mouth, I thought of my brother with different eyes than before, and suddenly the food was no longer food, but dust once more.

Bobby's laughter pulled me from my thoughts, loud and like a bell. I shook my head, closing the container of lo mien. She didn't look in my direction when I stood and walked out of her bedroom door. I didn't blame her. She had her own thing going on.

The rest of house was inexplicably empty again. And everything was in its place, decorative apples in their bowl and blankets folded neatly over the backs of arm chairs and couches. It was like no one lived here, like every room was always ready to be shown off to potential buyers. There was no disarray to make it feel like home.

My legs were shaking as I put the leftovers I knew I wouldn't eat in the fridge, stomach making concerning noises. I knew I shouldn't have pushed it but I forgot what it was like to enjoy the taste of something and I wondered if I would ever know when enough is enough. If I would ever know when to quit. Bobby's words still hung heavy in my head.

And I thought that, even if her words were true, I wouldn't do anything about it. Because no matter how much of a bad or selfish person it made me, I needed Embry to find out what happened to Briah. And that would always be my number on priority.

The house was so silent that for a moment, I doubted if I was there.

Bobby wasn't on the phone by the time I climbed back up to her room. She was rolled up in her blankets, and the news was no longer playing on the television. "Can you believe we're done with classes in next week?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, plopping down next to her on her bed. "We are? Isn't it still April?"

"No," she said with a snort, flipping through channels and landing on reruns of bad dating shows with a too high budget. "It's literally May. Like mod-May, you fucking dumbass."

With a heavy groan, I slumped against her body. "Fuck," I complained. I didn't like school, but I liked the excuse to be anywhere but home. Summers were a nightmare in which I was stuck at home, sticky and unhappy, with no where to go. And I didn't know if the ending of classes meant the ending of my little living arrangement with Bobby, but I didn't want to think about it.

Bobby patted the top of my head. "There, there," she said, not sounding remotely comforting, "I'm sure one day you'll learn to keep track of the days like a big girl. Anyways," she said, moving on from my grief, "do you wanna go with me to some Forks party in June? My friend just asked if I wanted to go. I guess it's like a huge deal and the family's like, super rich and they never let anyone up there. And like, I'm not missing out on that."

"Will I be able to get so drink I piss in their backyard?" I asked, feeling slightly bitter that I had to sit out the last party.

"We'll bring a keg."

"Fine."

I groaned again, still baffled at my lack of awareness. And my phone buzzed. At first I thought it was Bobby, as people tended to prefer to talk to her, but when she pulled out her phone and saw no new messages, I checked. It was from Embry, and the message made me laugh. "Oh my god, you're gonna kill him," I said standing.

"What'd Embryo do now?" Bobby asked, watching me as I moved towards her window and flung it open. "Oh, god," she said, eyes widened in realization. "Tell me he's not..."

Embry stood in Bobby's yard with a grin on his face. "What are you doing?" I yelled down to him, giggling.

"I have a surprise," he called back at me, smiling broadly. And he extended his arms up towards me. "You trust me?"

Bobby was by my side in a second, leaning out the window with a horrified expression. She looked back and forth between the two of us. "Hell no. No way. No fucking way. Just go out the front fucking door, if you're gonna go. No one's gonna stop you."

I shrugged, leaning away from the window. "It seems kinda fun," I said, despite her clear disapproval. "Plus, if he doesn't catch me and I break my leg then you'll get to sign the cast first this time," I bargained, remembering how furious Bobby had been to see the cast on my hand covered in signatures from the wolf boys, including Jared, leaving no room for her delicate print.

But as I leaned back towards the window, Bobby grabbed my wrist. "Remy," she said, voice and eyes severe, "you're gonna break his fucking heart if you keep this shit up."

And even though her words hit my gut in a way that made me unsure, I rolled my eyes and put one leg out the window, and then another, and then I jumped.

Embry's hand was tight around mine as we walked towards the large group of people roasting hot dogs a fire that looked like it was on the verge of being out of control. And even though he spent a lot of his time telling me that I was welcome in this group of people, my stomach still flipped around and my throat felt dry whenever I was around Jared Cameron and I held onto Embry's hand just a little bit tighter. The warmth was reassuring. Because no matter how much things had changed, the upheaval Jared did on my life and my brother's would never be undone.

Kim was there too, sitting tight against Jared's side. When she saw me, the corners of her mouth turned upwards and she raised her hand in a gentle wave. I did the same, but my hand was shaking and I wondered how people could think I was brave.

Embry tugged on my hand, drawing my attention back to him. His features were tied up with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, and I nodded. "You know, we can just leave. I mean, I'd probably get in trouble," he said after a moment of thought, "but I mean, I'd still do it. We could go watch a movie or find some people you don't like to beat up."

Despite my nerves, I smiled. "Nah, I think I'm good." I didn't want to tell him that he was the only reason I felt like I could be there."

"There's something important I have to tell you," Embry said, tone shifted. "But I really think you should listen to the tribal legends first. It might give you...a different understanding of how things are."

I frowned. "You know I've already heard them, right?"

"Yeah, and you asked me if I need a full moon to transform. I wouldn't exactly consider you an expert," he said, teasing, but I kept frowning at him. "Seriously, though. I'm not always the best at explaining everything. This might help."

My stomach twisted in knots at the idea of whatever important thing he had to tell me. "I feel like there's only so much information you can unload on me. I mean, how much more is there I don't know?"

Embry shrugged. "Not much, I guess. It's just...details, I guess."

"I can't believe everyone here turns into a giant dog," I said, changing the subject as my eyes scanned over the people in attendence. "Well, almost everyone."

I wasn't particularly happy to see Bella Swan there, sitting next to Jacob, looking around nervously like she felt she didn't belong. And it wasn't that I disliked Bella (whatever weird and inexplicable jealousy I felt when I first met her had faded away, and now I kinda felt bad for my rude introduction), but more that she was an outsider. I barely understood why I was allowed in on it, and I was born into the tribe. And add her outsider status with the fact that she was dating one of the 'leeches,' as Embry so affectionately called them, and her presence just felt like an intrusion.

"I can't think of a cooler thing to turn into," Embry said, leading me to sit with him on a log, in between Paul and Quil. "Except maybe like, an ant or something. You know, like that guy."

"Yeah," I agreed, smiling up at him as I sat. "Like that guy."

Embry's arm was tight around my shoulder the second we sat down, and, from my left, Quil grinned at me, turning his hot dog stick around in his hand. "Hey Remy. Do anything stupid since the last time I saw you this morning?"

"Nothing crazy. Just entered Embry in a dog fight and bet six-thousand on him," I replied, thinking that between the heat from the fire and from Embry I would start sweating soon. I felt like even the iciest parts of me would start melting soon.

"And I'm gonna kick ass," Embry said, leaning over to grin at Quil. "If you want in on it you only have to give Remy your entire net worth."

I nodded. "It's worth it, though. I mean, since your net worth is $26 your cut won't be that big, but still."

Quil frowned. "Embry, isn't it gonna be embarrassing for you to lose against a shih tzu and cost Remy all of her probably stolen money?"

"Oh, my bad, Quil. I didn't realize I'd be fighting against you."

I laughed as Quil reached over and shoved Embry's shoulder. "Yeah, I fucking wish."

Embry smiled down at me, ignoring the commotion around him. "Want a hot dog? Not to brag but I'm uhh, pretty much the best at making hot dogs over the fire."

"Cause it requires so much skill," Paul chided over Embry's shoulder. And he gave me a look of false sympathy. "Go easy on him. He's not used to using more than three of his brain cells."

Ignoring Paul, I leaned my head against Embry's shoulder. "Nah, I'm good. Bobby's mom ordered takeout and pretended it was her cooking. I'm filled to the brim with noodle." I leaned back up, grinning at him. "I will take like, twenty s'mores though."

I liked the way he smiled at me and immediately went to work at marshmallow toasting. I liked the way he was always smiling at me. There was something different about it, something that felt genuine, unlike anything I had ever felt before. And I wondered what I did to deserve such a pure smile.

Embry was really bad at toasting marshmallows. He got distracted too easily, laughing so hard he didn't notice when the fire consumed the little ball of sugar at the end of his stick. The would catch fire and burn and melt off the edge. And it's not like I was helping. I would poke his side and lean into him and tease him and he would forget about what he was doing until I pointed out that he had lost another marshmallow to the flames. And by the time Billy Black started talking, I had only gotten one s'mores instead of my promised twenty.

And when the storytelling began, there was a silence that spread through the group. The air was thick with some sort of respect, a pride that everyone felt when Billy opened his mouth to talk about our tribe. I had heard the stories before. We all had. But there was a certain authority with which Billy spoke that commanded the attention of the people around him. I felt like it was the first time hearing the histories. And I supposed it was different to hear them and to know that they were true; to know that they lived on.

There was something so much more entrancing about hearing them told by Billy. It was so starkly different from hearing it told in schools, from hearing it told in simplified ways for simple young minds. From the way he spoke, it was like his voice was dripping with a pride I never experienced growing up. As the story went on, I found myself growing distant from the moment and getting caught up in a resentment towards my mother. I wondered what it was like to grow up like Jacob, with a parent who was proud of who they were.

Billy spoke of our ancestors and I imagined what it was like to be there before everything became a secret. Embry was still next to me, face calm and eyes fixated, but I did not forget the look on his face when I doubted him, called him a liar.

I didn't know how long he talked for before I realized how tight my arms were wrapped around Embry's waist. It was around when Billy's voice faded out and Old Quil started speaking. I realized that there was a shift. There was a new topic, a new point of discussion. I went stiff when I realized what they were talking about.

There was this sense of anger and betrayal that ran through me while Old Quil described the cold and bloodthirsty monsters that plagued our tribe. It felt different than the anger I was used to. That was hot and blinding and hot in my skin. This was cool and painful and wedged its way into my heart. And it was so sudden and so tense that I couldn't make sense of it. When Old Quil spoke of the limp and lifeless bodies found on our land, I was plagued by thoughts and images of my brother I tried to blink away but couldn't. I squeezed Embry tighter as the anger built its way up my throat and formed into fat tears in my eyes. I closed my eyes, and they never fell.

The Third Wife haunted me after my eyes closed. I tried to imagine plunging a knife into my own heart to safe my people. What would I do, knife in my hand, if familiar hands were working to tear Embry to pieces?

It wasn't over quick enough.

When it ended, and people felt like they could move once more, I kept my eyes closed and my head against Embry's shoulder. I heard him use me an excuse to leave, taking my limb body into his arms and carrying me away from the scene. I felt each step he took, and let my head hang over his arms. Embry opened the door to his truck with me in his arms easily, placing me gently into the seat before closing the door. And when he came around to the other side and slid into the driver's seat, he started the car without a word.

After a while of driving, the truck stopped suddenly and Embry said, "You're safe now. You don't have to pretend to be asleep."

"I'm not pretending," I said, keeping my eyes closed. "I'm really asleep, I swear."

Embry chuckled. "You must be tired. I'm sorry I kept you out so late."

"Don't worry about it. It's better than drinking vodka until four in the morning."

He frowned at my words. "How'd you like it?" he asked, but I figured he already knew the answer.

I opened my eyes, rubbing them and slowly sitting up. It took me a minute to realize that were just parked in the middle of the road, surrounded by nothing but darkness and trees. "I dunno," I said with a yawn. "I guess I kinda got caught up in the story." It was a half-lie. It wasn't the story at face value that wound me up, it was what the story made me think of. "It's different to hear them when you know they're true, I guess."

"I remember the first time I heard them after I first phased," he said, gaze somewhere else. "It made everything seem so much clearer."

"Old Quil was definitely better at explaining it than you were," I gently teased with a small smile.

Embry looked at me with skeptical eyes. He leaned back against the door and sighed, biting on his lip. "I don't know how to tell you this. I thought the legends would make it easier."

"Tell me what?" I asked, sounding softer than before. The legends were so enthralling I had forgotten about his worrying, 'we need to talk,' statement.

He shifted uncomfortable around in his seat. "I think you already know," he said, almost like a whisper. The calmness he usually held in his features were so twisted and before I could think about it I reached over and grabbed his hand in mine.

I stared at him with expectant eyes. "What are you talking about Embry?"

"Remy," he started, voice heavy and avoided my gaze when he said, "we found your brother."

I went numb, instantly. My eyes were no longer seeing and I couldn't feel Embry's skin against mine and my mind couldn't produce any thoughts or any feelings. "When?" I asked, only able to come up with questions.

"Earlier tonight" he explained, no emotion in his voice. "Paul and Sam caught a scent up north and followed up and found, um, well they found Briah. They recognized him immediately and tried to follow him, but they lost him after a while. Think he swam off."

Everything was moving so slowly. Embry's words hit me long after he spoke them, one at a time. "So, he's...is he..." I couldn't finish my sentence. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

And I knew the answer but I looked at Embry for him to finish. For him to confirm what I already knew. "Yeah. He's a vampire."

I wasn't shocked. I wasn't feeling anything and I couldn't even bring myself to be happy at the confirmation that my brother was alive because I didn't even know if that counted. I couldn't look at Embry or anywhere but down at my hands. Ever since he told me, I wouldn't let myself have the thought. I couldn't imagine it, I wouldn't let myself. But now it was the truth and I didn't have to imagine it. "So what now?"

"I don't know," Embry said, voice hushed.

"They showed us his bones," I said suddenly. "They dug up his bones from the woods and they said it was him. Whose bones were they? If they're not my brother's whose are they? Whose bones did my family cry over?"

There was a strain in Embry's voice when he said, "I don't know, Remy. It could've been someone he," he started, but never finished. But it didn't matter because I was already imagining my father crying over the bones of someone my brother killed.

I thought of the stiff way he stood at the edge of the woods and how black his eyes were. "He's killed people," I stated. It wasn't a question but Embry nodded anyways and instead of sadness or relief there was a rush of panic that gripped my chest. "You're gonna kill him," I said slowly, but then the words hit me, hard and fast and knocked the breath right out of me. "You're gonna kill him. You're gonna kill Bear. You're gonna kill my brother. Oh my god, oh my god. Embry."

My chest was crumbling away and my hands and legs and everything was shaking. But when Embry reached over and pulled me into his arms and into his lap and held me tight against him I felt like he was holding me in one piece and he said, "No." His voice was firm and certain. "No, Remy, I wouldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let that happen to you. No, you're not gonna lose your brother twice."

No matter how much air I gulped up I felt like I could not breathe well enough. I couldn't string together any thought but, "Please don't. Please, please, please."

Embry leaned forward and placed a kiss on the top of my head. "No one's gonna hurt Briah. No one. I promise. You're not gonna lose your bother again. You're gonna get him back. You're gonna have your brother again."

"How?" I choked out.

I felt him shake his head. "I don't know."

i wanna apologize to everyone for not updating. i love this story and its characters but theres a lot going on in my country right now that's preventing me from having the time to write (even though i want to) and i have to be there for my people. obviously, i dont think this is the appropriate platform to discuss it any further, just know that i want to update and will try to as much as i can. they will probably just be scattered for a while.

i feel like this was a whole lot of nothing but im kinda out of the writing groove. lets hope i get back into it soon

EDIT: anyways ive been thinking and yes, i have been marching for the black lives matter movement. i have been marching almost every day since the protests started and i want to talk about it. i was nervous to discuss it for two reasons. first, its been dangerous for protesters out there and im nervous about protecting myself. i have been beaten by cops and pepper sprayed for peacefully protesting and living in a police state is a very scary situation. second, its been very difficult to unplug from the violence and i wanted this story to be a place where people could come and decompress from whats going on, because i know how draining everything can be. but i want all my readers to know that i am and have been very outspoken about the blm movement and am extremely firm in my beliefs. if any of my readers are uncomfortable by my beliefs and do not support the blm movement, i beg you to stop reading my writing and stop consuming my work. let me repeat that, if you do not support the black lives matter movement, please do not read my story. i will not be expanding or discussing that point. i'll be adding this onto the an of the next chapter for those of you have missed it on this one. thank you.