Page 61 of My Family

Jack's eyebrows hit his hairline. "You're kidding. That's a death sentence."

"He'll be fine," I say, too quick and too loud, like if I say it enough I might start to believe it. "He's not… he's not like Mason. He won't take Reed's shit."

Jack leans back, shaking his head. "Poor bastard. Not even a grace period."

I don't have a response to that. Instead, I squeeze Liam's hand, anchor myself there. For a minute, it's quiet.

Liam finally lets go and shifts so he's sitting cross-legged on the bunk, facing me. "You want me to check on him? I can do recon. See if Reed's planning anything."

"No," I say. "I mean. Maybe. Just… be careful. Reed's got a thing about you, too."

He grins, mischievous. "He's obsessed with me. I'm irresistible."

"Ethan," Jack says, softer now. "You look like you're about to puke."

I scrub my hands over my face, trying to get a grip. "I just... I'm fine, I swear. I just need a minute."

"It'll be alright, Daddy. We're here with you," Liam tells me and lays his head on my shoulder. My heart tightens even more.

Chapter 23. Liam

I knew the happiness I felt at Harry's house wasn't going to last. That's just how it goes in real life. Good things have an expiration date. I know this sounds depressing, but God, it hits different when you're locked up. You get a taste of what your life could be, and then you come back to your life on the inside. And the thing is, even on the outside, my life was never going to look anything like Harry's. Simple math. He was rich and I wasn't, and that gap wasn't closing anytime soon. But maybe someday I could have that ordinary life I kept dreaming about. A small taste, at least a little of what I got to try at his place.

Except right now I'm as far from that as it's possible to be.

Ethan is back at his clinicals, which means he’s gone two days and two nights a week. I don't want to be a selfish idiot about it. He's doing something important. I know that. I keep telling myself that. Also, Tyler isn't doing well, and Ethan needs to take care of his brother.

But when he comes back Thursday after being gone all Wednesday, day and night, I just want a little time with him. I don't get any. Zero. He gives me a quick kiss, looks at me with that apologetic face, and goes straight to the infirmary because Tyler is there. He tries to explain but doesn't stop long enough for that. He's already gone.

I don't get to say anything. Not even "I hope he's okay," which is what I actually feel. Tyler is Ethan's little brother. I genuinely want him to be okay. But I also want my boyfriend to give me five minutes of attention. That isn’t asking for too much. It isn’t.

I'm already feeling like a stray dog with no owner, and on top of everything, I get word that my dad is going to call, and I should go to the phone room and wait. He'd told Griff he'd call at two on the dot. By two-thirty, nothing.

I'm standing there like an idiot while everyone else around me makes their calls. The guard on duty keeps looking at me like I'm making the whole thing up. I want to tell him to go verify with Griff, but arguing with guards never ends well for anyone except the guard.

I'm not mad at the guard. I'm mad at my dad.

He'd promised he would visit more. That never happened. I shouldn't have expected anything from him, but because he'd actually shown up last time, I'd built this stupid fantasy that he was going to keep his word going forward. And now here I am, standing in the phone room like an idiot waiting for a late call.

I walk over to the guard to tell him I'm done waiting. Same as the day my dad took forever to show up for the visit. If he calls, he can tell him to try next week.

That's the exact moment the phone rings.

"Marsal," the guard says. "It's for you."

I go over with my heart pounding, even after all that waiting. Honestly I want to pick it up and start fighting with him for being late. But I don't say anything.

"Hey, son," he says. "Sorry I'm a little late."

"It's fine," I say. It's what I always say.

"Listen, I know I owe you some visits. I haven't forgotten. It's just that Marianne's been keeping me really busy. We're planting a vegetable garden together. As soon as I get a little time again I'll come by. I promise."

"Okay, Dad," I say, feeling my chest tighten. Because he's clearly noticed that I've noticed he isn't coming anymore. And he called anyway, just to make sure I remember I have nobody.

"I love you, son," he says.

"I love you too," I tell him, and it's true. The worst part is that it is true. But right then I don't have a lot of energy to tell him that.