Page 48 of My Brother's Bad Best Friend

But now that I’m here in his life, I’m seeing the cracks in the façade. I don’t want it to crumble, but sooner or later, everything breaks down. Kill your heroes, right? Well, maybe it’s time to get a gun and go for it.

“You don’t need to know,” Jonas says. He’s trying to protect me, I realize, and a flush of warmth comes over me.

“Tell me anyway.”

He sighs and slowly brings his other hand to his wrist and pulls me away. His fingers linger against mine but he steps away and sits back down in his chair. He lights his joint again and takes a long drag.

“He stole from us,” he says finally. “Not just the money from before.”

“What happened?”

“I went into work early and saw a bunch of shady guys leaving Half Pipe with big duffel bags. When I went into the grow room, it was obvious that a big chunk of our crop had been stolen.”

I stare at him, uncomprehending. “We got robbed?”

“No,” he says softly, smoking billowing around him. “No, Ezra was there. He gave the shit to those assholes.”

“Gave it?” I feel numb, stupid. I lean up against the glass wall, palms flat against the cold surface.

“Gave it, sold it, I don’t know. All I know is, he was a part of it.”

“But that crop was his baby.” I shake my head, not understanding. “He worked so hard on it.”

“I know,” he says softly. “Which is why I think he’s in more trouble than we know.”

We lapse into silence, each of us thinking about Ezra, this troubled asshole that’s keeping us apart. We both want what’s best for Ezra but I think Jonas resents him more than he likes him these days, and I’m starting to see my brother for what he really is.

Drug addict, fuckup, asshole.

Thief.

“What do we do?” I ask him finally.

“We don’t do shit.” He flicks the butt end of the joint onto the ground and stomps it out. “I’ll handle it.”

“He’s my brother. I can help.”

He stands up again, looming above me. His face is in shadows as he steps closer to me, and for a second I think I see the bad guy everyone thinks he is. But the light replaces the shadow and there’s a sad smile on his face.

“Barely,” he says. “Trust me, little rose. You should leave this to me.” He walks past me and this time I don’t reach out.

“He needs help,” I say as he opens the door.

He shrugs a little bit. “Probably.”

“Help him.” I step closer. “Please.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Why do you care? He’s never cared about you.”

“He’s still my brother.”

“Half-brother,” he says, but sighs and shakes his head. “Shit, I’m just being an asshole.”

“I don’t care. Just help him.”

“Fine. I’ll go easy.”

“Tonight. Don’t wait. If he’s in trouble, there might not be time.”

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