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“Hey. I can’t talk long, but I need your help.”
I tried not to get angry that he only called me when he needed something—especially since I had spent the last few weeks needing so much myself.
“What’s wrong?”
He sighed into the phone, and I knew it was because he didn’t want to tell me what was wrong.
“Just say it. Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be okay.”
“No. It’s not going to be okay. I’m in jail.”
I shot up from the couch and nearly dropped my cell. “What! Why are you in jail? What happened?”
He sniffled, and I was sure he was crying. “Long story short, I got mixed in with the wrong people, and I’ve been doing things I shouldn’t have. They got me on possession of methamphetamine with intent to distribute.”
“Oh my God, Erik,” I whispered into the phone.
“Yeah. I’m going to be here a while.”
I couldn’t believe it. My brother was in big trouble, and there was no telling where Mom was. I wanted to say Georgia was the biggest mistake of our lives, but as the thought ran through my brain, Aiken’s face came to my mind.
“What should I do?” I asked.
I had never dealt with anyone going to jail. I didn’t know what the process was or what came next.
“Visitation is on Sunday. Could you come so we can talk about some things?
I nodded, words getting stuck in the back of my throat.
“I’ll be there. Promise.”
And I would be.
Regardless of what my life had been like the last few weeks or the fact that he wasn’t there for me when I needed him. He was my brother. We were made together—born together—and no matter what, I would have his back and do what was best for him.
Zada gave me a ride to the jail, and I waited twenty minutes before I could go back and see him. He was sitting at a table, handcuffed in what looked like khaki scrubs. The skin on his face was scarred, and he was about thirty pounds lighter. He looked terrible, and my heart broke.
An officer uncuffed him when I approached, and he stood and gave me a hug. He squeezed me, and tears rushed to my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away.
“I’m so sorry, Ev. I’m so fucking sorry.”
He shook, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew he was crying.
What had our lives become?
It was amazing what losing a father could do to your life. We were different people—virtually strangers—and so broken, I was sure we would never be whole again.
“We’ll get through this,” I said, rubbing his back.
He pulled back with red eyes and swiped at his nose.
“I can’t believe how fucked-up everything is. I did this.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t just you.”
We sat, and he grabbed my hands. His palms were rough, his arms covered in tattoos that weren’t there before. Erik had once been a pretty boy but now looked like he belonged with the bikers.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked.
