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“Yes,” he said.
“And you won’t Google him?”
He shrugged, sitting at the table. “I’m not sure. I’m on something mind-altering, remember?”
“Have I ever told you how incredibly annoying you are?”
“Many, many times, actually,” he said with a smirk as he took another forkful of noodles. “So? What’s his name?”
I sighed, putting my head into my hands. “Monroe,” I said. “Spencer Monroe.”
“Monroe, eh?” I knew my brother was brilliant, and I saw that brilliance playing out in his mind as he filtered through all the different potential contacts in his mind. I watched as the correct one clicked into place, and his head came out of its tilted position. “Wait a second—”
I held a finger up to my lips, shaking my head at him. “Not a word, remember? I told you his name, and now we move on.”
“To what?”
“I’d like you to stay at the condo while I’m gone. I think it would be good for you to get out of this dreadful space and out of your head for a minute.”
“You and I already discussed and agreed that you’re not my parent or caregiver,” he said.
“I’m not trying to be either of those, Shane. I’m trying to be your big sister who’s always been there for you. I will not find you overdosed one day. I know you’re trying, but you live in this place filled with your addiction triggers.”
“Fuck that shit,” he said, irritated.
“You know it’s true. The two previous times you were sober hardly lasted after you came back to this place. I see that you’re drowning again, and I want you to at least change your surroundings, take a breath, and try harder than you’re doing.”
“Swear to God, Nat, every time you come over, it always ends like this. You’re not going to fix me, and therapy is not going to fix me.”
“I know that,” I said, my irritation matching my brother’s. “The only person who can fix you is you, and so long as you keep hiding in this place, you’ll never get into the mindset to fix yourself.”
Dammit, I didn’t want to leave him like this. I would spend my entire trip overseas worried about him, and I wasn’t about to do that. If I had to go abroad for a while, I wanted to leave on a good note. So, I did what I always had done. I stood and started to clean the place. I’d hopelessly leave this subject alone and deal with the heartache of not knowing how to help my brother break our toxic family cycle.
Chapter Nine
SPENCER
Go figure, my nerves were shot to shit, and we weren’t even wheels-up in this private jet.
Spencer: Where the hell are you? You know that private jets have to keep to a schedule, too, right?
I looked up at the tarmac from where I stood with my aviators dropping down over my face, thinking about how I would get through the next week of festivities. I was also feeling quite guilty over the fact that I was subjecting Nat to this bullshit, and yet, shockingly, she agreed to be a part of this whole charade.
My phone buzzed, and I looked down at my hand, where my screen lit up with a text from Nat.
Natalia: First of all, LAX can kiss my ass. Second, you and those pilots waiting on me can kiss my ass too.
I blinked at the phone, and surprisingly, a smile spread across my face in response to imagining Nat flustered and pissed off while walking toward the terminal where she would be led out to the private jet.
Spencer: I’ll let the pilots know they’re on Natalia Hoover’s clock and no longer answering Air Traffic Control.
Natalia: Good, I’ll be there in a second.
Spencer: Just hurry up.
If I was honest, I was irritated to be boarding this aircraft in the first place. Of course, I was thankful for the luxury of being able to fly private, but that wasn’t even enough to chill me the fuck out, knowing our destination.
“What’s going on with you?”
