Page 16 of Avenged

“It may not have been your fault, but if you’d been sober instead of drunk, you probably could have prevented it. If you hadn’t been racing, you wouldn’t have been there at all.”

“Boat accidents happen all the time in racing. Accidents happen in every fucking kind of race involving men and machines. And I barely blew a .08. I wasn’t fucking drunk. Carlos took that fucking corner at too hard of an angle and lost control,” Dawson said. It was a story I’d already heard. Not once had he taken any responsibility for it. He’d denied, denied, denied. No matter racing on the lake was illegal. No matter racing at dark on the lake was plain stupid. No matter racing with any kind of substance in your system was out-of-this-world ridiculous.

“Just once I’d like you to admit you screwed up.” I turned and left the room, going into the kitchen that was so small I barely fit inside it myself. With Dawson following me into it, it was almost enough to induce claustrophobia.

“Just once I’d like my brother to defend me instead of rip me apart.”

My teeth clenched tight as I fought a retort I’d hate myself for later. While I was sure he needed a little of the tough love Eli and Mac had frequented on me when I’d been a self-pitying bastard, I also knew he wasn’t ready for it. Not yet. It would only push him away. Push him into more stupid stunts.

When I didn’t respond, he narrowed his eyes at me and asked, “What the hell happened with Violet and Jersey that caused you to come home in such a piss-ass mood?”

I sighed. He was right. I was in a piss-ass mood, and I was taking it out on him. It didn’t make what I’d said not true, but if I wasn’t already frustrated and exhausted, I wouldn’t have gone off on him the moment I saw him. He was my brother, one of the few people I could safely vent to, and that was what I was really doing—blowing off steam.

Jersey’s pale face, curled up in my arms, plowed back into my head, followed by her pale face, full of unshed tears, as she turned and slowly made her way up the stairs. It didn’t feel like she vented to anyone, even her sister. It felt like she took everything and set it upon her shoulders like some damn cross she thought she had to bear by herself. All those images blinked at me like a neon sign, just like her words, “I can’t afford it,” shuffled on repeat.

I pulled out the old coffee filter, tossed it in the garbage, and started making a new pot. When I’d finished and had calmed myself down a little, I turned back to him. He stood in a stance echoing mine: arms across our chests, feet wide. When he’d been six and I’d been thirteen, his mode of copying me had been funny. Now, I wondered how much of his bad behavior was an echo of my own. He’d seen me become an asshole after the debacle my senior year at A&M. He’d seen me stay an asshole for four years. I’d modeled for him that the way to deal with adversity was to shut down and turn away the world.

I could try to say it wasn’t my fault, that he had a father who should have been his role model, but then I’d be denying my own responsibility for the situation we were in. I’d cut and run just when Dawson needed me most, and then, when he’d been at his most impressionable, I’d given him another asshole example of what a man was. Mr. Dick certainly wasn’t the example he’d needed, regardless of being the county sheriff.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease away the tension coursing across them, making my back and neck stiffen in a way I knew was going to hurt in two days when I went back to work at the academy and continued training officers on the Chinook.

“I’m sorry,” I said, breathing out.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I was being an ass. I’m beat, and I took it out on you.”

His whole stance softened. He grabbed two mugs from the cupboard over his head and handed them to me. We poured our coffee, drinking in silence for a few moments.

“What happened?” he asked again, but this time, it sounded like he actually wanted to know rather than throwing the whole situation at me.

“Jersey was in so much pain you’d have thought she was giving birth. It was…” My throat closed up, and I had to take a moment to get myself back together before I went on. “They ran some tests, dosed her up with pain meds, and sent her home.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Fuck if I know. Something to do with all that female shit. They want her to see a specialist, but she won’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“She doesn’t have insurance, and, as you can tell, it’s not like they have the money to pay out of pocket.”

He sat down at the table, and I joined him.

“Why doesn’t she have insurance?” Dawson asked. He was still covered under his dad’s insurance. My mom had her insurance. I had insurance. It seemed like something everyone should have, and yet, in reality, there were still millions of Americans without it. It felt like it should be a basic human right?access to affordable care. Not something you had to choose between: your health or a meal on the table. Not that Mandy and Leena would ever let the Banner girls starve, but it made me realize, even more, just how much Mandy and Leena were doing for them. How wonderful Eli’s family was.

“Too expensive,” I said with a shrug.

“But Violet takes all those pills…” His voice trailed off, a furrow growing between his brows. “Do they have to pay for all of it themselves?”

“Apparently, because she’s still a minor, Violet is covered under a state plan.”

We sat there in silence for a few moments, both thinking of the blondes at the Victorian. Dawson scratched at the back of his neck, something he only did when he was really thinking.

“What’s wheeling around in that brain of yours?” I asked.

He hesitated. “Well, you have insurance.”

My own brow furrowed, not catching on to what he meant. “Yeah, but that doesn’t help her.”

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