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“Fuck, man… I’m not your dad. I’m just saying it would be easier for her if you stayed away.”
Heat climbs my neck. Shit. I kick at a stone on the sidewalk and watch it skitter away. “Dammit. I can’t… fucking be without her. This sucks.”
“Took you a long time to realize that.”
“Like it took you with Audrey?”
“You know what? Fuck you, Dylan,” Ash mutters. “You don’t get to be judgmental, not of me, do you hear?”
“I hear you.” I want to snap and yell at him, but he’s right again. He still hasn’t forgiven me. Why should he? I deserve his anger.
“She waited for you,” Ash goes on. He’s on a roll today. “She threw you fucking birthday parties, had your back ever since I can remember, and you never glanced at her fucking twice since you broke up back in school, and now you suddenly decide to have her back, now that she’s going through this mess with her parents and this stalker guy? What the hell, man?”
I wince and start walking faster. “I had my reasons for what I did, and for all it’s worth, I’m fucking sorry. I know I screwed up.”
“Sorry? Well, guess what. It’s her you should tell that to, not me, and you’ll have to try harder than that. Just saying you’re sorry doesn’t fucking cut it.”
I let out a long breath. Yeah… Only problem is, she doesn’t seem to need me anymore, and the thought terrifies me.
I thought we could be friends. That I’d still get to be around her, see her, smell her, feel her… But I want more, and I took more, and now I’ve broken what little was left for us both.
“I will,” I say. “Shit, man, I’ll try harder.”
“You’d better.” Ash is saying something more, but his voice fades as a buzzing starts in my ears. I slow down.
Dad is standing at the front door. He’s holding it half-open, looking right at me.
I disconnect the call. “Dad?”
Ramming the cell into my back pocket, I hurry down the broken path to the house. He hasn’t been home in at least a week, and the sight of him on the doorstep brings unexpected warmth to my chest.
My dad. He’s waiting for me to come home. For a heartbeat, past and present blur, as if the last six years never happened, and I see Dad as he used to be—straight and strong, smiling. Somehow I wait for Mom to appear behind him and wrap her arms around him, and the scent of cooking to waft through the open door…
Dad vanishes back into the house, and the illusion shatters.
I slide inside and snap the door shut behind me, glad to be out of the biting wind. “Dad?”
It’s dead quiet. I walk into the living room, and I almost turn toward the bedrooms. Almost not notice my two brothers sitting on the couch, silent and still, something scrawled in black on their foreheads.
Everything in me turns cold.
‘SINNER,’ reads the writing on Miles’s forehead. ‘REPENT,’ on Teo’s.
Their eyes are wide, their small bodies rigid. They’re holding hands.
Holy fuck. I drop to my knees in front of them, my heart booming. “Miles? Are you all right? Did he do anything to you?”
Miles shakes his head. Teo whimpers, and I pat his small hand awkwardly. I’m so full of rage right now I don’t trust myself to be gentle.
“Stay here. Stay together. Everything’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
Satisfied the boys are at least physically okay, I get back on my feet and go hunting for my father.
“Dad, where the hell are you? Come here right now.” I check the bedrooms. Empty. “Dad, dammit! What do you think you’re doing? Are you out of your motherfucking mind?”
It’s possible, I think, as I check the kitchen, then double back to the living room to reassure myself my brothers are still there, still okay. Possible he’s gone crazy.
They’re there, still holding hands. Still looking scared as all hell. No sign of my dad.
