Free Behind the Secrets (Behind the Lives #4) by Marita A. Hansen Page B

cleared of cancer, God finally blessing
their family with some good news.
    Beth leaned back into the couch. “I
thought Mum said she wuz gonna fatten you up.”
    Corey pressed the remote, turning off
the TV, which was playing some cop show. “Not gonna happen, I lost my appetite
for food.”
    “You don’t still feel sick, do ya?”
    He frowned. “Only over what happened to
Sledge.”
    Beth took hold of his hand, giving it a gentle
squeeze. Corey’s best friend had been shot in the head by Ant Torres after
Sledge had tried to rescue Corey from the psycho.
    “Stop cutting yourself up over that,”
Beth said. “Sledge is recovering well, plus it wuzn’t your fault.”
    Corey squeezed her hand back, his
expression sad. “He still got hurt cos of me.”
    “And I bet he would do it again, cos he
loves you.”
    Looking surprised, Corey pulled his hand
free. “You know?”
    She smiled. “Of course I do, you two are
like brothers.”
    His mouth formed into an O shape.
    She frowned. “Why are you lookin’ at me
like that?”
    He dropped his gaze. “Nuthin’.”
    “What’s wrong, Corey?”
    “I said, nuthin’!” He grabbed his
crutches and pushed up, wobbling a little.
    Beth got up and steadied him. “Why are you
mad at me?” she said, not understanding his reaction.
    “Cos you’re just like Dad.”
    “What’s that s’posed to mean?”
    “He doesn’t like me, and you wouldn’t either
if you truly knew me.”
    “Don’t be silly, he loves you and so do
I, and nuthin’ will change that.”
    “That’s what you say now,” he said,
heading around the footstool.
    Beth followed him into the passage,
stopping as he turned to face her.
    “Stop following me,” he snapped.
    “No, I wanna know why you’re so angry.”
    “If I told you, you’d hate me like Dad
does.”
    “I told ja, he doesn’t hate you.”
    “Well, he sure as hell acts like it. He
can’t even look me in the face. I should’ve just ignored Mum and stayed in the
flat, but now I’ve lost it and have nowhere to go. And worse, I can only see
Sledge when Mum takes me, cos I can’t drive with this!” he yelled, indicating
to his injured foot. His eyes started misting up. “I wanna be with him, and no
one gives a shit!” He turned and entered his room.
    Beth followed him in.
    He spun around. “Get out!”
    She held out her hands. “Hun, calm down,
you’re just havin’ a bad day.”
    He indicated to his moon boot. “More like
a bad fuckin’ year. I wuz beat up, run over, drugged, kidnapped, sexually
assaulted, and now they’re saying there’s a chance that Ant Torres could get
out if I don’t testify, which I can’t do—”
    “Why can’t you?”
    He opened his mouth, then clamped it
shut, something passing over his face, telling Beth he didn’t want to tell her.
    “Corey, why can’t you testify?”
    “I...” He grimaced. “I just can’t, okay.
Ant scares the shit outta me, and all I want is for Sledge to hug me and tell
me it’ll be all right, but he can barely move his left arm. He can’t even walk
to me,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “and it’s all my fault.”
    Beth placed a hand on his arm. “Again, it’s not your fault. And I spoke to the inspector ’bout Ant. He’s confident
that the creep will be put away for a long time if you take the stand.”
    Corey opened his eyes. “I told ja, I
can’t, why won’t you listen to me?”
    “Cos the inspector—”
    “I don’t care what he says! Ant will
hurt us if I testify. You shouldn’t even be talkin’ to the police.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous, of course I hafta
talk with them, and Ant can’t hurt us, he’s under house arrest.”
    “That won’t stop him? He’ll pay someone
to do it for him.”
    Beth frowned. “Why would you say that?”
    “He...” Corey went quiet.
    “Corey, tell me why you said that.”
    Her brother screwed up his face. “He
just will, I know it.”
    “How?”
    “Stop questioning me! And Mum said I
didn’t hafta testify.