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He exhales deeply. “That was Steve, the dirtbag that got us off the street. Also the guy who got my mom into hard-core drugs when I was nine.”
My heart cracks.
How is he so casual about it?
“We moved in with him a year later. Long story short, he’s the typical abusive, piece-of-shit stepdad. Slapped my mom around for years, but he kept the dope coming, so she stayed. Then I started fighting.”
This piece of information alone fills a hundred gaps.
He learned to fight to protect her.
Not himself.
Her.
“He kept his hands to himself for a while. He knew I could take him. Until I moved out. The second I left, he started again. Gave her a black eye two months ago. So, Kendrick came over, and we returned the favor.”
There’s a whole part of him I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even know my own brother.
“I got my mom into the car, moved her somewhere I knew he wouldn’t find her. She promised she wouldn’t tell him where she was. That she was done, and she’d get her shit in order, and well… you know how that turned out.”
I’m angry for him.
She went running back the second the withdrawal hit.
“And I know I shouldn’t give her money. I’m only enabling the problem, but I don’t know what else to fucking do. I… I can’t just sit back and watch her screw any willing dealer.”
I’m at a loss for words.
This is awful.
Downright awful.
“Anyway, there you go. My sob story summed up in a few sentences. Anything else you want to know?” He heaves a resentful laugh. I know he said it as a joke, and this may be the worst moment to bring this up, but…
I have to ask.
“Actua
lly, there is.”
He waits for me to elaborate.
“Yesterday, when you were drunk, you… you said something about a girl. That asshole Dixon mentioned her at Zoey’s birthday, too. Lyla… I think?”
As if you don’t know what her name is.
That’s what knocks his façade down.
Her name.
He swallows hard, his eyes turning red as his jaw flexes. He sounded so detached telling me the truth today. Really had me thinking he was okay with all of this. But he’s not. He’s been flirting with the line since this morning, flirting with the edge. His heart isn’t as solid as he’d like me to think. And sooner or later, all that is fragile…
Breaks.
“She was Dixon’s stepsister.” He clears his throat. “And my girlfriend.”
I despise the sting of jealousy. Loathe it to my core. But it hurts all the same. A part of me always knew she had to be important to him, but I somehow deluded myself into thinking that she was a fling. That I was the first to gain the girlfriend title.
