Page 106 of Relapse
My tears weren’t pulled from my eyes by the hollowness in my chest. They came in the form of scotch, when I chucked the bottle across the room and watched it twist through the air. Shards of glass fell to the ground as amber liquid flowed across the wall in a beautiful puddle of rage and sorrow.
Micha opened his mouth a couple times, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to say either. We just kind of stood there staring like it was the first time we were seeing each other, and maybe it was. All our cards were on the table now, laid bare for the other to see.
I looked from the brother I grew up with, to the one I shared a father with. Neither one tried to comfort me or say some bullshit about it not being my fault, because they were just as confused as I was. But they were still here. Standing next to me. And that said a lot.
Logan was the first to break our silence.
He flipped over a table in the corner, sending the contents clattering around the room. “Motherfucker! You were supposed to make it out clean.”
The single tear rolling down his cheek hit me harder than anything Ryker had ever done to me. Logan Hudson didn’t cry. He didn’t feel sorry for himself or anyone else, and yet here he was, giving me some of his pain. But he wasn’t the brother I used to admire. It wasn’t Logan’s bed I snuck into when I had a nightmare. It wasn’t his smile or approval I sought out.
Micha was the brother I needed.
I looked over at his furrowed brows. He was pissed. Not at me or Ryker, but at himself.
“When Riley was in the hospital, Chase said something to me. He said that if I loved her, I’d let her go. That she didn’t belong in our world.” Micha sighed and walked over to a painting of a sailboat on the wall. “Maybe he was right?”
“Riley can handle it,” I said. “She’ll be fine.”
He rolled his dark eyes over his shoulder and looked back at me. “She’s not the one I’m worried about.”
“Oh, so now I can’t handle shit?”
Fuck him.
Logan argued, “That’s not what he’s saying, Mase.”
But Micha retaliated with, “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Fuck you, Micha.”
“No Mase, fuck you. Look at Logan.” Micha tipped his chin in Logan’s direction. “How many scars does he have? Don’t hear him complaining.”
Gritting my teeth, I puffed my chest out and grumbled, “I’m not complaining either.”
Until a few minutes ago they had no idea what happened to me.
“That’s my point. We thought Ryker was dead for years and you didn’t say shit.”
I sighed and crossed my arms. “So?”
“So, don’t hold us to a higher standard than you hold yourself.”
“This isn’t the same thing.” I wasn’t holding back Micha’s DNA.
What happened to me as a kid was my business. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder why I didn’t say anything? If the threat was gone, why didn’t I tell someone? Lou, Micha, Silas, even Harper. I used to tell her everything, but I didn’t tell her about this. Why? Was I ashamed? Was I scared that the boogeyman would come back?
Is she scared?
“Sure,” Micha snorted. “Tell Harper it’s not the same thing.”
“Harper betrayed me!”
“I don’t know, Mase,” Logan interrupted. “I hate to say it, but Micha’s got a point. We all assumed she was skittish because, well, you’re an asshole.” He slapped his hand on his chest. “While I admire your tactics, if you think about it, she changed before you started tormenting her.”
“So?”
“So,” he continued, “what changed? What happened the day she fingered you?”
