Page 88 of Beg Me

“I’m sorry,” I say, rubbing my temple. “Didn’t you have her leave the house keys and utility information for me?”

The line is silent.

“And didn’t you have her bring me the key to the mechanical room?” I ask. “And when the guy from the water department came around to read the meter, he said Markie had called and asked them to do that.”

He sighs. “What’s your point?”

“The fact that you can’t see my point and have to ask for an explanation says it all.”

Markie has jumped through a number of hoops for Miles since I’ve been in town. And she’s done every one of them without muttering a cross word. She’s never complained or failed to follow through. She’s been … Markie.

The woman spending her Friday night decorating a barn for her friend’s wedding. Who has lunch with her grandma after church on Sundays. Everyone describes Markie the same way—fun, loyal, and responsible.

She answers her brother’s calls when she shouldn’t.

When she said every man aside from her dad and grandfather has let her down, she really meant that shit.

“You know,” I say, pacing again. “Streets run both ways. Why don’t you just stop calling your sisters? Don’t take their calls? Or is there a reason you keep the line of communication open?”

I shake my head angrily. Now that I think about it, Markie's first comment about Miles makes even more sense. He uses them. He doesn’t give a shit about the relationship—or would know them if he passed them on the street—yet he’s okay to utilize their “family status” for whatever he feels is beneath him.

It’s no wonder Miles keeps this place as a rental as it’s never any skin off his nose to keep it running. His sisters do that for him for free.

“You keep the lines of communication open because you use them when it’s convenient for you, right?” I ask, lobbying my accusation his way with no fucks given.

“You just met Markie a month ago. Don’t talk to me like you know anything about our relationship.”

“Ditto, motherfucker.”

“Oh, so that’s where we are now? We’re at motherfucker?” he asks with equal parts surprise and fury. “Okay. Okay, good to know.”

“You’ve been one of my closest friends for years, and I’d hate to lose that, but who the fuck are you, man? Who is this guy who uses his sisters and talks about them like they’re trash? Because this isn’t the guy I met in college. You’re not the guy who used to float me cash so I could buy food and gas for the week.” I sigh. “I don’t know this person, Miles. And if you’ve always been this person, I guess I never really knew you at all.”

He exhales loudly into the phone. “Yeah, I knew she’d get in your ear. She’d act like I’m so mean and such a terrible person, so you’d have sympathy for her.” He chuckles. “If you’re that easily fooled by a piece of pussy, then good for you.”

He didn’t …

“That’s your sister, you piece of shit. Listen to how you’re talking about her. I’ll ask you again. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Rage floods my body as every muscle locks. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and I’m ready to put my fist through the phone and take Miles by the throat.

I’ve always thought I was seeing the real Miles, while his family was seeing the edited version. Turns out that I had it backward. Somehow, the egotistical asshole that I knew was the best version of him, and his family got the true man.

And that breaks my fucking heart.

“I’ll tell you what,” I say, rolling my head back and then side to side in a futile attempt at loosening the tension held there. “You’re a grown-ass man who can make his own choices. But as someone who used to respect you, this is bad, Miles. I don’t know what the hell happened to you, but you need to check yourself.”

“You need to stay out of my family’s business.”

I recoil at the suggestion—at the insinuation that I’m not her family.

It stops me in my tracks like a bucket of ice water over my head. And every cell in my body rejects that conclusion.

Technically, Miles is right. He’s her brother, and I’m the guy who showed up a month ago. Technically, he wins.

But family is more than biology. It’s checking in with the people you love. It’s following through on promises. It’s showing up, being vulnerable, and treating each other with respect.

And when you put it like that, she’s a hell of a lot more my family than his.