Page 72 of Hard Rock Heat
"Is he sick?" Damon looked alarmed. "Ian never told me. Hope never saidanything."
"Hope… doesn't know," I saidslowly.
Damon's jaw twitched, as if fighting back a million questions. Instead of speaking, he stayed silent and let mecontinue.
"She doesn't know how bad it is," I said. "He's not sick like you're thinking. He doesn't have cancer or anything. He just needshelp."
"What kind of help?" Damon asked with infinitepatience.
"He has a bad heart. The doctor told him to stop working. To take care of himself. Light exercise, healthy eating, the kind of thing. But he doesn't. I don't think he can. Or maybe he just doesn't wantto."
Damon reached over to take my hand again,squeezing.
"It's hard," I admitted. "On the one hand, I wish I could just turn my back and forget about him. Every time I see him, every time he looks at me with his dead eyes, it just opens all those childhood wounds all over again. He doesn't want me around." Tears pricked the back of my eyes. "But with his heart, I'm afraid if I don't try to take care of him, one day it will just give out. I'll walk into the house and he'll still be sitting in his armchair, TV blaring, but he'llbe…"
A tear fell down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away with the back of myhand.
"Shit. I'm so sorry, " Damon said. "At least with my dad, I only see his sorry ass once or twice a year. If I had to put up with him every day I'd kill thefucker."
"My dad's not a bad man," I said. "It's just a badsituation."
Damon eyed me. "And Hope doesn'tknow?"
"No." I shook my head vehemently. "I'm not going to put her through that. The less she sees of our dad, the better. She doesn't deserve that kind ofheartache."
"Neither do you," Damonsaid.
"I'm the oldest, even if it's only by a minute. It's up to me to make sure none of this falls on my sister. You get it,right?"
"I suppose," he said. "The shit I protected Ian from—" He turned his head away, not finishing hissentence.
"I imagine it was worse than just parental neglect and burning resentment?" I saidcarefully.
"He was an abusive asshole," Damon said with a sharp nod. "Anger issues, raging narcissism, you name it, he had it. At first it was just putting us down, making us feel like shit. He liked to play these fucking mind games, turn me and Ian against each other. Sometimes itworked."
Damon's eyes narrowed darkly. "I tried to always be around though, to make sure my brother and our dad were never alone. I tried to make sure he didn't take it out on Ian. Not physically, at least. The mind fucks, though, that messed my brother up something fierce. When I caught Ian—" Damon shook his head. "Anyway. Eventually I reached a point where I knew we couldn't stay any longer. So we loaded up everything we owed into duffle bags and tookoff."
Now it was my turn to reach over and place my hand on his. "I'msorry."
The both of us wentquiet.
"I didn't mean for this to get all heavy," Damon saideventually.
"It's okay. It's nice having someone to talk to about all thisstuff."
"Yeah." Damon eyed me cautiously. "Normally I would say that you should trust your sister and tell her everything, but I'd be a hypocrite if I did. We're always going to want to protect our younger siblings." Damon cracked a small smile. "Even if they're only younger by aminute."
"It sucks," I said. "Being the oldest, having to be the responsible one, having to grow up toofast."
"It does suck," he said with a sly grin. "That's why I'm making up for losttime."
I chuckled. "That explains why you're always such ahandful."
"Pretty much." He glanced over at me. "You should do it moreoften."
"Dowhat?"
"Play around," he shrugged. "Act irresponsible. Have fun for the sake of having fun and no otherreason."
