Page 80 of The Way We Are

When he cradles his tear-soaked face in his hands, I crouch down in front of him. I want to promise it was a one-off mistake that will never happen again, but knowing the statistics on domestic violence, I keep my mouth shut, deciding instead to use actions instead of words.

“I didn’t mean it. I swear, I didn’t,” Damon murmurs into my neck when I band my arms around his chest to tug him into my torso. “It happened so fast, I didn’t have a chance to stop it. I’d been drinking and had a shit week. I know I shouldn’t have taken it out on her. She was just... there.”

When he raises his baby blue irises to me, it feels like I’ve been sucker punched. He looks so much like me, we are often referred to as twins instead of brothers. “I don’t want to be like him, Ryan. Please don’t let me end up like him.” He buries his head in my chest to hide the moisture sliding down his cheeks.

“I’ll get you out, Damon. I promise I’ll get you out of here,” I pledge into his ear a short time later, the hammering of my heart resonating in my tone. “But I can’t do that without the money you took. I can’t saveanyoneif I don’t have access to that money.” You can hear the plea in my tone. I can only hope his desperation to escape reality didn’t make him blow 50K on nothing.

I wait for the shakes hammering Damon’s body to ease before drawing back so he can see my eyes. I want him to see the honesty there, because it’s my solemn promise that I will do everything in my power to stop him from following in our father’s footsteps. I’ll even sacrifice my own happiness if I must.

“Do you have my money, Damon?”

Damon removes the snot dribbling from his nose with the back of his hand before nudging his head to his closet. “It’s in my backpack. I didn’t spend any, I swear. I was just keeping it safe for you.”

After squeezing his shoulder to issue him my thanks, I move to his closet. Some of the cracks his confession caused to my heart are soothed when I secure his ratty school bag in my hands and tug down the zipper. Although I can’t be one hundred percent certain all my original money is here without physically counting it, I truly don’t believe Damon set out to steal from me. He was merely trying to secure his freedom. I can’t blame him for that.

I tug three hundred dollar bills from the stack before moving to stand in front of Damon. “I have to run an errand, but when I’m back, we’ll figure out a way to get you to Aunt Kaci’s. It’s going to take me around a week to get some funds together, but when I do, we’ll devise a better plan.”

I expect Damon to protest me sending him hundreds of miles away from home, so you can imagine my shock when he merely nods his head before accepting the money from my grasp.

“What about mom?” he asks, his tone as low-hanging as his head.

A weak smile cracks onto my lips, grateful that even when surrounded by turmoil, he’s still thinking of others. It won’t fix the mistake he made with Molly, but it's a step in the right direction.

“Don’t worry about Ma. I’ve got everything covered,” I assure him.

I squeeze his shoulder for the second time, wishing I was better with words. There are a hundred things I want to say to him, but none of them are required when I see the remorse in his eyes. What he did was wrong, but the fact he's acknowledging his mistake gives me hope we aren’t too late to stop him from becoming a domestic violence statistic.

“Molly won’t return any of my calls, Ryan. I haven’t seen her since it happened,” Damon confesses, staring down at his hands like they are solely to blame for his transgression. Although it was his hand that struck Molly, this goes way deeper than a physical element.

“She’s gonna need time, Damon. If you truly want her forgiveness, you should give her some time to think.”

He raises his eyes from his fists to me. “What if she never comes around?”

“Then that’s her choice. It’s not yours to make. You can’t force someone to forgive you, no matter how bad you need it.”

Although my reply adds to the torment brewing in his eyes, I’d rather tell him the truth than lie to him. He’s been fed so many lies during his short sixteen years, I’m not willing to add another one to the stack.

“Are you gonna be alright if I leave you for around an hour?”

I hate leaving him like this, but I’m juggling so many things at the moment, I’m bound to drop a ball if I don’t keep my focus centered. And considering Savannah’s life was already in jeopardy last night, I’m not willing to put it back on the line so soon.

Damon jerks his chin up. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.” He stands from his slumped position, strengthening the assurance in his voice. “I’ll call Aunt Kaci in a bit. See if she's up for some company.”

This time my smile is genuine. “This will be good for you, Damon. They say a change is as good as a vacation. You get to have both.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.” His reply isn’t as strong as I’d like, but it’s better than denial.

I curl my arm around his shoulders and tug him into my chest. “You’re not like him, Damon. You made a mistake, that’s all,” I whisper into his ear, determined not to let him become a statistic on males raised in households affected by domestic violence. “You’re a good kid; you just need to remember that. You’re only a kid.”

After a final squeeze, I spin on my heels and exit his room, praying he won’t see the moisture burning my eyes. He’s got enough guilt on his plate. He doesn’t need any more.

Just before I hit the hallway, Damon shouts my name. He waits for me to face him before saying, “She's going to ruin you, you know?”

“No,” I disagree, shaking my head. “Savannah isn’t ruining me. I’m ruining her—I’m just too selfish to stop it.”

With a grin tugging his lips, he replies, “I wasn’t talking about Savannah. I was talking about our mom.”

32

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