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She sucks in her top lip, chewing on it as she thinks. There’s so much she’s not telling me. I want to shake it out of her so I can solve all her problems. I did it once before; I can do it again.
Her face screws up, and she shakes her head. “You’re not my brother.”
“The hell I’m not.”
She jumps to her feet, the anger that’s been building inside her finally letting loose. “You lost the right to call yourself that the day you walked out on me.”
“You think I wanted to do that?” I run a hand over my shaved head. “Fuck, Vivi, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I had no choice; don’t you get that?”
This conversation is all over the place and going nowhere. She has secrets she isn’t telling me, that’s obvious, but any trust we had is gone, and I can’t demand that she open up. It won’t work, and I can’t blame her when I’m not telling her the truth, either.
“Why, then? Why did you have to leave?”
The day I left, I swore I wouldn’t bring her into my shit, and it’s a promise that I have to keep. So instead of the answer she wants, I give her the one I need her to believe. It’s still the truth, just not all of it.
“Because I would’ve killed him. I couldn’t take any more from him, and you know it.”
“You’re right.” Her eyes soften for a split second before narrowing back on me. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it happened, and we’re strangers now.”
“Yeah, we are.”
“So pretend I’m any of those other girls and let me do what I have to do.”
I sigh. “I need to think about it.”
“Well, think fast because if you turn me away, I swear to God, I’ll go down the road to one of those other joints.”
“Fine.” I stand and pull the fob out of my pocket. “Let’s get you home.”
Muscle memory activates as I drive to my childhood home. I haven’t been back here since the day I left, and I swore to God I’d never return. This is different, though. I’m not coming to beg Ray to take me back because I couldn’t make it like I was worried I’d have to. I made it. I left without a goddamn penny to my name, and now I have a fat bank account, a family of brothers who’d die for me, and somewhere to call my own.
He’s got nothing on me.
Except for Vivi. He’s got her.
I park in the driveway, not at all shocked that the doublewide trailer looks shittier than it did fifteen years ago. I guess without me around to be his whipping boy, nothing gets done anymore. The salmon-colored vinyl siding is faded, cracked, and warped, the asphalt shingles peeling and missing in a few places, and the yard is overgrown and infested with weeds. I can’t imagine the interior is any better.
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“I know. I offered to mow or paint, but he said he’d hire someone. He never did.”
I snort. “Sounds about right.”
She picks her purse up off the floorboard and sets it in her lap before digging inside and producing a set of keys. I expect her to dart out of the car and run from me, but she seems to be stalling. Why?
“Are you gonna be okay?” I ask when it’s obvious she’s not getting out.
“Yeah. Fine. I’m still trying to wrap my head around seeing you again, and of course, it had to be at a brothel.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “Yeah, gotta admit, I didn’t expect that one.”
“I’ll figure out how to get my car towed, but it might take a few days. So, if you could tell them not to tow it to whatever place you’re contracted with at the Honey Pot, that’d be great.”
“I’ll take care of it and get it back to you.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not necessary.”
I sigh. “Jesus Christ, Vivi. Let me do this one thing. The club owns a garage. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll work on it myself, so I won’t have to pay someone else to do it.”
