She liked the Kelly brothers because they didn’t pretend. They didn’t like her, they didn’t approve of her, and they didn’t make a secret of it. She could take that kind of bluntness. Truth was, she wasn’t that crazy about any of them either even if she did admire them in a twisted sort of way.
She admired all the Kellys. They were fiercely loyal to each other. She wanted that. Wanted to be part of something that big and larger than life.
“Dream on,” she muttered. After today she’d be back on the street trying to figure out where her next meal was going to come from.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs made her flinch. She squeezed her hands harder, determined not to let anyone see their betraying tremble.
No knock. No doubt she’d lost any privileges she may have earned in this house. The door swung open, and Nathan stood there, his expression solemn. Well at least his eyes weren’t sparking hatred. She knew she’d run into that just as soon as she faced Rachel’s little protective brigade.
“Mom wants to see you downstairs, Rusty.”
She flashed a resentful glare in his direction. “Don’t you mean your brothers want to yell at me?”
Nathan leaned against the door frame and studied her with that disturbing, probing stare that told her he saw way too much. “You don’t think they have reason?”
She started to pop off some smart-ass remark, but she closed her mouth. She had no defense, and they both knew it. With a resigned sigh, she rose from her perch on the bed. Better to just get it over with.
“Take me down to face the firing squad,” she muttered.
Worse than Nathan taking her to task, he remained silent. He just looked at her with those eyes that saw too much. She’d much rather he snarl at her or tell her what a f**kup she was.
Injecting steel in her suddenly jellified spine, she went stiffly down the stairs, dreading the bottom with every step. They were all gathered in the living room. Just great.
She tromped down the steps, not looking at anyone. Still, she could feel their heated stares, feel the anger coming off them in waves. Worse, she could sense the deep disappointment coming from Marlene’s direction.
She chanced a look at Frank, and her heart sank when she saw not anger, but sadness.
Forgoing a seat near any of them, she perched on the brick hearth instead. She could hear the intake of breath as they prepared to launch into a diatribe about how evil she was.
“Look,” she blurted. “I didn’t mean to do it. I know you all hate me. I get it. I f**ked up.”
“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Marlene said in her snippy motherly tone that Rusty loved so much. Maybe because her own mother had never spoken to her in such a way. Like a real mom.
“I just want to know why you did it,” Ethan demanded.
Rusty glanced up and wished she hadn’t. Ethan stood between Sam and Garrett, and they all scared the bejesus out of her. They were pissed. Okay, she got that. They even had the right to be.
Her throat swelled and she swallowed angrily. Damn if they’d make her cry. No one could make her cry. Not her crazy-ass mother. Not her mother’s stupid husband who called himself Rusty’s stepfather. They could all go straight to hell.
Surprisingly, Nathan came to her rescue.
“Cut the interrogation,” he said to his brothers. “Let her tell us what happened. You’ve already tried and convicted her.” Then he turned to Rusty. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
Something in his expression made her want to explain. It made her want to fight for her place in this family where before she’d been prepared to say f**k you all and hit the road again. She didn’t have any experience with seeing it when people looked at her, but she could swear it was . . . trust.
She glanced over to where Marlene and Frank sat. Marlene’s face was drawn into a pained expression. Shit, it looked like she’d been crying. Frank . . . he just looked disappointed. Rusty would rather stick an ice pick through her eye than put that look on his face.
Then she turned back to Ethan, Sam and Garrett, and she finally realized why she hated them so much. They were pissed beyond reason because Rusty had done something that hurt Rachel. Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. Rusty didn’t hate her, but she envied her so much it was like poison in her blood. She wanted someone to feel as strongly about her. She wanted brothers—a family—to love her and want to protect her from all the bad shit in the world. Just like what they were doing for Rachel. Rachel who’d been through hell and didn’t deserve any of Rusty’s vitriol.
“I just wanted to be . . . one of you,” she choked out.
A tear rolled down her cheek, and she slapped the back of her hand against it, mortified that anyone would see her crying like a baby.
Sam’s eyes flickered, and his arms lowered from their position over his chest.
“Care to explain that? How does you doing a hatchet job on Rachel and shoving KGI into the spotlight make us believe you’d want to be part of this family?”
“I didn’t know he was a reporter,” she said miserably. “He was at the party so I assumed he was someone you all knew or trusted. He was nice and funny and he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. He wanted to talk to a member of the family and it felt so good, for just a minute, to pretend that I was.”
“Oh, honey,” Marlene whispered.
“But why would you say those things about Rachel?” Ethan demanded. “Do you have any idea what this will do to her when she sees it? She’s at the therapist this morning, Rusty. She’s there because she’s about to break. She has nightmares. She’s afraid she’s losing her sanity, and her family is the one safe harbor she should have above all else. Why would you try to ruin that?”