Masquerade

Forget she died.

Forget I hated her.

That I hurt my sister.

Took something from her.

And Bee. Jesus Christ I wanted her to stay. Wanted her to tell me she could give me more because I want that with her. Wish she could open up to me the way I did with her. Only with her. She didn’t want me enough to try, though.

My fists tighten, wishing like hell I could hit something, but instead I shove out of the bed I’ve been lying awake in for hours and head to the bathroom.

The shower doesn’t help, so after I get dressed, I grab my phone and the keycard so I can walk down and get a pack of cigarettes before going to see Laney. As I’m heading down the outside walkway, I don’t know what makes me do it but pull my cell out of my pocket. I let my finger ghost over the missed call button.

I know exactly what I’ll see. I still do it anyway. My finger presses down.

One, two, three, four, five… they keep going—one missed call after another, all of them with the same name.

Mom.

Fire burns through me and for the first time in my life, I wish it would burn me alive. Wish for something, anything, to swallow the guilt that’s inside me.

Just like Dad did, I pushed her aside. Yeah, she was horrible to Laney and that shit was so fucking wrong, but I never even tried to do anything to change it. Never tried to help. I pushed her away and drowned in all my fucking anger, casting her aside like Dad did.

I had no idea how to help her. And now she’s gone.

Stopping, I drop against the wall and close my eyes. Try and calm the breaths rushing from my lungs. I want to lose it, really fucking lose it. Shaking starts in my insides and burns outward. Heat engulfs me—anger, rage, pain, whatever the fuck else I can find in there, and it’s crazy because I actually want to let it out. I never lose it. I just become an asshole and walk away. I want to be free of it. And I sent away the only person I can do that with.

And she left easily.

“Last time we met in a hotel walkway like this, there was a lot of fucking blood. Think we can skip that part this time so we don’t hurt your sister anymore?” Adrian stops beside me.

“Fuck you.”

“Heard that from you before. It’s getting old as hell. Called your room and you weren’t there, so I told Laney I’d come check on you. I’ll tell her you’re being your typical asshole self.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him fuck you again. It doesn’t matter right now. He doesn’t or I don’t. “How is she?”

Adrian shakes his head like it’s a stupid question, which I guess it is. “She’s hurting, man. How do you think she is? She loves her mom and now she’s gone. She got into it with you last night and that always fucking kills her. But like you told me the last time we stood together at a hotel like this, she’s strong—stronger than all of us—so she’ll be okay. Even if she didn’t have me, which she always will, she’ll be okay.” He crosses his arms and I know he’s not done yet. I don’t know why I don’t walk away from the bastard.

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t have gone without her, man. Is it a shitty thing to see your mom like that? Yeah, and I wish like hell she didn’t have to but she can handle it and it was her right to be there—with you. She doesn’t need you to save her—never has.”

I hate him more for telling the truth. Hate myself because he’s still ma

“I didn’t think she’d want to go and see her like that. I want to do right by her.”

Adrian studies me. His eyes narrow but not like he’s pissed—like he’s trying to put together some kind of puzzle. He crosses his arms, and again I want to tell him to fuck off. Whatever shit he wants to give me, I’m not in the mood for it right now.

“I know you do. You’ve loved her better than I did my own sister but you need to let her live too.”

His words are needles sticking into me, prick after prick. Because they’re almost… cool. I didn’t expect them and wish they weren’t both truth and lie.

“I know she can handle it and I haven’t been a good brother to her.”

Adrian shakes his head. “Christ, I can’t believe I’m going to do this. I should have brought a bottle of whisky like you did. Would be easier.”

I almost laugh at that.

Adrian leans against the wall, looking forward. I turn from him, too, knowing whatever he’s going to say, I’m not going to want to see him while he does it.

“I don’t know how much Laney told you about me, but my dad used to beat us. I watched as he beat my mom and I let my sister Angel take beatings for me too. I was young, so fucking young, but that doesn’t matter. What does is I let them down. Then Angel took me to live with her and the first thing I do is get some girl pregnant at sixteen. Then I had a son—Ash—and…”

It’s as though Adrian’s hand is fisted around my throat. He’s cutting my air off and cutting my heart out and I know I deserve it. Still, I don’t know if I can listen to him talk about his son.

“He was fucking incredible, ya know? Only two but it was like he knew the world better than I did. Angel helped me with him too. She took care of both of us and when he died, I bailed on her. When have you walked away from Laney?”

“I wasn’t there… when Mom slit her wrists.”

“That’s a fucking bullshit answer and you know it. You didn’t leave. You were working. You’ve never fucking left her. You came with her to Brenton even though you didn’t believe in what she was doing. You sacrificed loving your own mom for her.”

My eyes snap to him at that and he’s looking at me. Looking like he knows shit about me that I don’t. “I’m not playing let’s open up and talk with you. That’s not me.” Pushing off the wall, this strange thought filters into my head. I want to take those words back…

Because he’s being fucking real. In a lot of ways, that’s who I am. I’m real and honest and don’t sugarcoat anything. Maybe that’s really a lie. That’s what I want people to think. I’ve been a prick to him. Our father killed his son and he’s standing here talking to me about him.

“Fucking pussy.” Adrian’s hand comes down on my shoulder. His accusation is another truth because I am exactly what he said. “You play that game real well. You accused me of being weak when you’re just as bad. You hide behind being a prick, the whole fucking time pretending all you want to do is take care of your sister, but that’s not all, is it? There’s more to it than that but you aren’t man enough to face it.”

At that I whip toward him, words doing what my fists have done the other times we’ve fought. “You want to know the truth? Is that going to change so fucking much? Fine, I used to go with my dad when he gambled. I kept it from Mom and Laney, pretending it was for their own good and that I thought he would stop. Really it was to be selfish. I never said a word—just gave up playing football with him, telling myself I was sacrificing something so it wasn’t wrong.

“And then I confronted him one day when he was leaving. Threatened to tell but as soon as he brought up money, I let it go. I let him walk out the door and I didn’t tell Mom or Laney and then he killed a little boy.”

Adrian’s face pales at that. His jaw tightens, fire burning in his eyes.

“Every fucking day I hate myself for that. Not for me but because a kid died because of my selfishness. And then my sister fell in love with the boy’s father and I look at him and pretend to fucking hate him when I know he’s more of a man than I am. I watch him love my sister better than anyone in her life has and all I see are my own failures. I would do anything—any-fucking-thing—to get that day back! I will never…”

I let out a deep breath. Adrian still isn’t moving. His hand has fallen from my shoulder, and he looks sick. Looks like he could pass out and I know I’m screwing with him more by finally opening my mouth and telling him the truth.