Page 82 of Love Me, I Dare You

I’m swimming through uncharted waters here, not sure how else I’m supposed to respond. Being the youngest of my four brothers, I was never responsible for anyone but myself. I have no clue what to do now that my little sister is telling me she’s having a baby and planning to do this whole thing on her own.

I want to explain where I’m coming from, but she won’t hear it. She has no reason to listen to me because she’s right. I haven’t been around. I know nothing about the woman my sister has become and giving my opinion, rather demanding things Iknow nothing about. Of course, she has the right to fight me on everything I say or do.

Monroe takes my silence as the opportunity to further deflect as she slides back into the bed. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Just leave, please. I’ll call Monty to pick me up. I just ask that you let me tell him. I already know he’s going to lose his shit. I don’t want him to hear this from anyone else.”

I swallow back my pride and everything I want to say to her, realizing this isn’t the time or place for me to tell her all the ways she went wrong or what a terrible idea it is to try to do this all on her own. It’s obvious she’s scared, terrified of how this will affect her relationship with Monty. Nervous about whether he’ll be upset or, worse, disappointed.

What Monroe needs right now is her brother, the one who's been gone and hasn’t tried to repair the relationship he affected most with his departure. She has no reason to listen to me or trust me with this, but I need to prove to her she can.

I have to stop being so selfish. Stop blaming myself for things I had no control over as a young kid. As an adolescent who let my pride prohibit me from seeing reason. A man who let someone more powerful and influential dictate how I lived my life and hurt those in it. I have to make things right of my accord. Because I want to. Because those I’ve hurt deserve it.

“Izzy,” I say, taking her hand in mine and placing a soft kiss along her knuckles. I don't know how I hadn’t noticed something was wrong before. My sister isn’t only pale and gauntly thin, but she’s frail and as a woman who’s pregnant, this can’t be good for her or the baby’s health. “I’m sorry. For leaving, for blocking you out of my life all these years. I did it because you, this town, and everything reminded me of her. After what happened between us, I couldn’t stand it. I shouldn’t have shut you out, but when I finally realized it, it was too late. I knew you wouldn’t forgive me. I knew I didn’t deserve it if you had.”

Tears brim from her eyes and fall against her flushed cheeks, with the back of my hand I swipe them away, hating how much fear and anguish I see reflected in them. Monroe’s incredibly beautiful and strong. The intricate tattoos that cover her skin make her look invincible, impenetrable to any noise from the outside but just like everyone else, she’s human and her outer armor is just a shield to protect the young girl inside who’s suffered so much and had to endure the pain and rejection of those in her life who should have protected her.

“Nash,” she says, between choked cries. “We’re family. I have lost so much. Mom, you, now him. Beau and Theo are just as clueless about what it means to be a family, but if there’s any chance that you’re here to stay…”

I stop her before she can continue, knowing I can’t do what she’s about to ask. “I can’t…”

Now it’s she who reaches for me, placing a finger over my lips to silence me. “If any part of you, however small, thinks you could stay longer, I don’t want to lose you again because of some stupid sense of doing what is right. For fear of staying and letting fate decide what’s best for you. Do you know what I felt just now, as I watched life leave our father’s eyes?”

I close my eyes, not wanting to replay the image of my father’s last breath, of staring at the emptiness in his eyes, of watching Monroe fall to my feet and assuming the worst. Though, I know what she means, because it’s exactly what I felt. Tears continue to fall from her eyes at my understanding. Eyes nearly identical to mine in not only color but in the pain they reflect. Understanding about the uncertainty and confusion about the man we both just saw take his last breath and why, the only thing we both felt was relief.

“I don’t want to leave, but I can’t stay.”

She shakes her head, refusing to believe me. “Why? Because staying feels right?” her grip on my hand tightens, and this time,it’s I who wish this conversation would end. “I know you care about her. I can see it when you’re together. I can feel your pain as we sit here and talk. What I don’t understand is what are you so afraid of?”

I don’t get to answer her before Monty comes barging in through the door, swinging it on its hinges and watching as it slams into the wall. “Monroe?”

“Sir, you can’t run in there,” a nurse says, chasing after him.

“Please, it’s okay,” Monroe assures her. “I’ll make sure he’s more careful and considerate.” Reluctantly, the young nurse nods her head and exits, slowly closing the door behind her as to show Monty how one should behave. “Hey Monty,” Monroe says, refusing to meet his gaze. Instead, she looks up at me, pleading for me to stay silent about this.

His green glacial eyes turn to me as he rushes me, taking the collar of my shirt in his hand and slamming me into the wall at my back. “What the fuck did you do? How could you take her to him? To let her witness that?”

“Monty, please. I asked him to take me.” Monroe cries out in a desperate attempt to calm our oldest brother, but Monty isn’t behaving like one. He’s reacting like a father who heard the news of his daughter being rushed to the hospital and didn’t know the extent of her injuries.

“I’ll deal with you later,” he says, without turning to her, keeping his murderous eyes on mine. There’s a hole in my stomach as I stare at the anger and disappointment looking back at me. He’s not upset about me taking her. He’s disappointed that I would do something this reckless and remind him I’m the same careless kid I always was, putting my own selfish needs and feelings over everyone else.

“Look, Monty,” I try to say, but he shuts me up when his fist on my neck tightens. “How could you, Nash?” His voice is low, the anger gone and in its place, a despairingly grim tone. “Youshould have fucking known better and not taken her to see him knowing how bad things were. You went to go see him last week, so I know you expected this to happen sooner rather than later and you still took her.”

“She would have gone without me. Would you have preferred she be there alone when it happened?” There's a glimpse of surprise in his expression that I argued with him rather than admit I was wrong and careless. But It’s the truth. Monroe was determined to see our father, and she would have done so with or without my help.

Monty releases me, reason returning to the mind of the temperamental brute. “Nash, it’s okay,” Monroe assures me as she comes to stand beside me. Monty turns his attention to her, dumbstruck at why she’s acting nice to me. Her brows raise as she meets his scowl head on, not being one bit intimidated by the man. “He’ll get over it. He’s just a fucking hothead who doesn’t think before he acts.” She places a hand on my chest over my heart and I cradle it tighter against me. “Thank you, not only for taking me, but for being here for me. I hope you take the advice I’ve given you and do something for yourself for once. Don’t listen to the outside noise, do what feels right in here.”

I’ve missed this. All of it. Monroe growing up and becoming a woman wise beyond her years. The feeling of having a family on my side, backing me up regardless of the fuck-up I turned out to be. I missed it all because of some stupid sense of duty to protect her and everyone who meant so much to me. I left them behind instead of asking for their support.

I bring her in, placing a kiss on her forehead. “When did you get so wise, Iz?”

She lets out a soft laugh but doesn’t pull away. Instead, she cradles her head further against my chest before wrapping her arms around my waist. “It took ten whole years, Nash. I’m just glad you’re back to see it.”

Monty shakes his head, tsking as he watches us. “Who would have thought the death of the old bastard would have been the medicine we all needed to heal?”

That forces Monroe to straighten up and reach for Monty. She pulls him toward us, wrapping an arm around him while her other remains hooked to me. “You can only heal what’s been hurt and broken. None of us would have ever struggled so much if it hadn’t been for him.”

Ain’t that the fucking truth. Now, all I have to do is figure out how I’m going to fix what I’ve broken and make things right with those I’ve hurt.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

---