Page 7 of Risking it All

“That’s good, I guess,” Dad said. “How are you?”

I don’t look like him.It was the only thought I had. His drawn face had deep circles etched under his eyes. His dirty brown hair needed to be washed, and his frame had that look like he used to have muscles but then laid in bed for a year and had atrophy. I resembled my mom, and I told myself a million times a day that my personality must take after hers, too.

Maybe. Maybe not. She split after I was born. I wasn’t a splitter. I took care of my family. Camila’s mom died in childbirth. Neither I nor Camila knew what it was like to have a mom.

“I’m tired and heading to bed,” I said.

“Relic,” Eric said as a warning, and the “What?” I snapped back wasn’t the smartest move I had ever made, but I was done, and I was pissed.

Eric coolly stared at me. “Walk out with me.”

Because I didn’t want to deal with Dad, part of me was okay if Eric decided to put two bullets in the back of my head for snapping at him. But then that would leave Lyra solely responsible for Camila, and I couldn’t do that to either of them. Lyra wasn’t Mom material or responsible. She was a barely functioning adult and keeping a job wasn’t her strong suit. When it came to budgeting, Lyra failed, spending money like it ran out of the faucet.

Outside the apartment, I leaned my hands against the aging metal railing, and it creaked under my weight.

Let it fall.Maybe Lyra could sue the complex for millions after I died.

Eric closed the door behind him and joined me at the railing. “Your family owes me. Your father lost some of my money when he was arrested, but he’s my brother and I’m giving him a second chance. Brother or not, I want my money back.”

Eric and Dad shared no blood. Just childhood friends, but that relationship was the only reason Dad still drew in air. “Dad’s debts belong to him and are his to pay. I carry the financial burden for me, Lyra, and Camila only. I’m not responsible for my father.”

“It’s a family debt,” Eric said.

Dizzy with dread, I leaned further on the metal railing. It creaked again.

“But I have an easy out for you,” Eric offered.

Eric and the word “easy” belonged together as well as kerosene and lit matches.

“I’ve been watching over you your entire life,” he said. “You’re smart, resourceful, fast on your feet, and smooth even when shit hits the fan. You’re like water—you fit into any situation required, and then you find a way to slowly drip out so no one notices. I need people like you in my organization. If you come work for me, I’ll erase the debt.”

“Maybe you didn’t hear,” I said in as carefree of a voice as I could muster, “but I was arrested for stealing out of a car. Doesn’t sound smooth to me.”

“A hiccup,” Eric said. “Wrong place, wrong time, and not typically how you work. Don’t worry. I don’t count that against you. If you were working for me when that happened, I could have had those charges dropped. Who knows, I could still pull strings and get your sentence reduced.”

If I worked for him, odds were I’d be dead before I hit twenty-one and then I’d be bringing danger into my home and harm to Lyra and Camila.

“While I appreciate the offer, I’ve decided to pursue other employment opportunities.”

“It’s either you or your dad who works for me, and we both know your dad will crash and burn again, leaving you, Lyra, and Camila to deal with the fallout of the explosion. I wish I could let this go, but I can’t. If I allow your dad off the hook for his debt, I’ll have people questioning if I’ve gone soft. Then they’ll think they, too, can screw me over. I can’t have that. Don’t make me hurt my brother because you can’t be a team player. I’m not sure I could forgive you for that.”

The invisible walls of the box of my life closed in, making me feel like I could implode.

“Be smart,” Eric coaxed. “Take the perks I’m offering before it’s too late, because you have a ticking time bomb sitting on the couch. If you listen hard enough you can hear it counting down, and it’s on you when it explodes.”

Without any other commentary on my life, Eric went down the stairs and got into his brand new black Lexus. He left, and I was stuck. I hated my life. I really fucking did.

Chapter four

Macie

“Idon’t know what to do to help Macie,” Mom said.

Every Saturday morning since my return home from the hospital, my parents met with their best friends, Isaiah and Rachel, to talk about me. I stumbled upon this breakfast gathering by mistake a few weeks back. Like every Saturday since the discovery, I sat on the stairs that led to the second floor where my younger brothers were still asleep, and I listened to my parents discuss how I was breaking their hearts. Sometimes I felt like a brat for eavesdropping, but most of me hoped that by listening I’d find the motivation to speak about February.

“I’ve tried everything, but nothing works,” Mom continued. I had to be driving Mom to a special level of frazzled, especially since she was an art therapist for children and teens. I could imagine her sitting at the table, head in her hands with her red, curly shoulder length hair falling forward. My mom had a kind face and green eyes that held love for me. When she saw me, shewore a sad smile that told me she’d do anything to see me happy again. “She won’t talk to me, to Noah, to any of you…”

“You”being my countless nonblood aunts and uncles we considered family. Every single one of them had spent time with me since February, letting me know they were there for me if I should need to talk, but I couldn’t… I just…couldn’t…

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