Page 83 of Worlds Collide

I nod. “All of it. If I had just stopped then Mom wouldn’t have come in right when you were flying across the living room, and she wouldn’t have killed him, and?—”

“Jesus, no!” he shouts at me. “Wolf, are you fucking for real?” He looks pissed. Why does he look pissed?

“Yes, if I’d just?—”

“No, just stop!” he shouts again and holds his palm up to my face. “Dad made the choice to beat me around like a punching bag when I was just five damn years old. He broke your arm. Mom decided to shoot him. None of that is your fault. You were just a kid, Wolf.”

“But I knew how Dad would get and I didn’t?—”

“Okay, I have a new limit,” he interrupts me loudly.

“What now?” I demand in a growl, impatient.

“You are not allowed to think our parents did what they did just because you acted like a normal child.”

“What?” I spit out the question.

“That’s my limit. Every time you say or think shit like that, my limit dictates that you have to rip out a few hairs in your forearm.”

I can only stare up at him.

“That’s not how limits work, Birdie,” I say, trying to be gentle because shit, does he actually think that’s gonna work? “I remember that night. I’m the only person still alive who was there for all of it?—”

“You saw your father die right in front of you!” Hawk shouts, standing up now. “You experienced something that would be extremely traumatic for anyone, let alone a little kid. You didn’t do anything wrong, Wolf. You. Were. Just. A. Child.” He enunciates every word as if he were speaking to someone who didn’t understand English.

“Okay, damn,” I grumble.

“Hawk,” Adrian interrupts with a patient smile. “As much as I appreciate your initiative here—and I’m sure your brother does too—the fact is, this is the way your brother has felt about this all these years. He’s felt guilt over that night since it happened, and that’s not going to stop being so just because you set a limit against it.”

Hawk grumbles something unintelligible as he sits back down, then he looks at me for a moment, then back to Adrian. “I don’t like it,” he complains and almost pouts.

“I’m sure Wolf appreciates that,” he says and throws me a pointed look.

“Yeah, sure, I do.” I nod back at Hawk.

“But it won’t change how he feels,” Adrian goes on. “The only way to change it is slowly and with repetition and building new habits that will disperse that belief.”

“How does he do that?” Hawk asks excitedly, and I clear my throat.

“Iwill do that, not you. And though your support is welcome, your assistance is not.”

Hawk winces and deflates in his seat.

Yeah, these limits are going to take some time to get used to.

TWENTY-FOUR

CJ

I pourtwo more cups of coffee as Hawk continues his story of what’s happened the last couple of weeks.

“Wait,” I interrupt when he takes a breath. “If you just set all these limits, then aren’t you technically breaking, or like, infringing one of them by coming here?” I ask, confused.

“No, because Wolf asked me to come here after what happened yesterday morning.”

“And will you tell me what happened?” I ask, risking him going into another incredibly detailed story on his way to the point of his visit.

“Yes!” he shouts excitedly, and I spill just a little coffee on the counter from how suddenly loud he gets. “So, I went back there yesterday, on Friday,” he speaks quickly now. “And we had another therapy session. Lots of tears, blah, blah, blah, and when I was leaving there was a man who said he had a package he had to hand deliver to Wolf. Of course Wolf couldn’t receive it but he agreed to give it to me, so I went back in with the envelope in my hand andWolf opened it and it was this.” He shoves his hand into his jacket pocket and takes out a slightly crinkled piece of thick paper.

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