Page 124 of Manic

Rio's words hit me like a sledgehammer, the raw pain in his voice slicing through the ambient noise of Bubba's. "My little girls need their mother, but that's not going to happen."

"Rio, man..." I start, but the words catch in my throat.

What can I possibly say to ease this kind of pain?

I watch as he takes another swig, his hand trembling slightly.

The sight of my brother falling apart like this is almost more than I can bear.

Flora's death hangs over all of us like a dark cloud, but for Rio, it's a storm that threatens to drown him completely.

"I know it's not the same," I finally manage, keeping my voice low and steady. "But those girls still have you. They need you now more than ever."

Rio's laugh is bitter, devoid of any real humor. "Me? What good am I to them like this?" He gestures at himself, at thebottle, at the bar around us. "I couldn't even protect their mother. How am I supposed to protect them?"

I lean in closer, my voice barely above a whisper. "By staying alive, for starters. By not letting that bastard win."

At the mention of the Patriot, even indirectly, I see a flash of something in Rio's eyes.

"He took her from us," Rio says, his voice breaking. "He took her because of me."

I shake my head. "No, brother. He took her because he's a psychopath who'll stop at nothing to get what he wants. This isn't on you."

But even as I say the words, I can't help but feel the weight of my own guilt.

We all knew the risks when we decided to go against the Patriot.

We thought we could outsmart him, outmaneuver him.

We were wrong, and Flora paid the ultimate price.

I watch Rio closely, trying to gauge his state of mind.

Part of me wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, to remind him of his responsibilities to his daughters and to the club.

But another part recognizes the fragility of this moment.

One wrong move and I could push him further into the abyss.

"Listen," I say, choosing my words carefully. "I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through. But I do know this—Flora wouldn't want you to give up. She'd want you to fight, to be there for your girls."

Rio's shoulders slump, and for a moment, I think I might have gotten through to him.

But then he reaches for the bottle again, and I realize we're not out of the woods yet.

Not by a long shot.

As I watch him pour another shot, I can't help but wonder if we're already too late.

"Rio," I say, my voice firmer now. "Look at me."

He turns, his eyes unfocused but still managing to meet mine.

"You’re gonna to get through this," I tell him, putting every ounce of conviction I can muster into my words. "Together. As a family. As brothers. But you've got to meet us halfway, man. You've got to want to fight."

I sigh, realizing that pushing any further right now isn't going to help.

Sometimes, a man needs space to wrestle with his demons.

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