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"Jace," he whispered. "How do you do it?" His fingers squeezed mine lightly and I met his eyes again, eyes so full of pain and misery I worried I might actually be swept away inside that whirlpool of hopelessness.
I knew what he was asking, though we had never talked directly about much of it. Jarred had been overseas too. He'd enlisted three years after me. Maybe because of me. Or maybe because kids like us didn't have a lot of other opportunities.
Only, the Corps that saved me from my shitty childhood, the service that gave me the opportunities I had now—the job, the GI Bill—that was the same Corps that had wrecked my little brother. I don't know what he saw over there. But I could guess, based on what I saw myself.
Whatever it was, his ghosts weren't banished as easily as mine, which haunted me still but kept to the shadowy murk of my dreams. Jarred's demons dogged him in daylight, forced him to seek out planes of reality where they couldn't follow.
I took a steadying breath, rubbed a hand over my face. "I don't have any answers man," I told him. "But I should have stayed closer when you got back, made sure you were okay. We should have gotten you some help, someone to talk to—"
"Don't do that." His voice was stronger then, almost angry, and I looked up again to see some steel in his eyes. "You don't get to take this on."
"It's already on me," I said over his protests. "You remember what Mom told us when we went to see Grandma and Papa? When they decided we weren't quite good enough for them, for all our little rich cousins?"
He held my gaze, shook his head almost imperceptibly.
"We were both mad and hurt, we'd gone to Grandma's house and she turned us away—right after Dad left. And I don't know if you understood anything. I didn't at the time. I got that we were trash, weren't good enough for them, that Grandma was saying we weren't her people anymore. But it was about Mom more than it was about us. I know that now." I sucked in a breath, the shame of that day still washing through me, making me feel small and unworthy. "And as soon as we were back at the car, Mom grabbed us both—do you remember this part? You must have been six or so."
I remembered the hot car, the way the slick plastic seat had squeaked and stuck to my thighs. I saw Mom’s eyes flash with anger, with hurt as tears stood in the corners, tears she wouldn’t allow to fall.
"Maybe a little."
"She hugged us tight, and she was trying not to cry, her voice all shaky. And she told us we would always have each other. That we were brothers and that our most important job was to stay close, to look out for each other ..." I trailed off, realizing just how miserably I'd failed.
"You always did," Jarred whispered. "You always have."
I glared at him. I'd rather have him angry at me, I'd rather he had slapped me. "She told me I was older and so it was my job to protect you. To take care of you. You're my little brother." My voice broke on the last word and I dropped his hand and pushed out of the chair, turning toward the window. A storm raged inside my gut and my whole life raced through my mind, highlighting every missed opportunity to steer us in a different direction, choose a path that would have led somewhere other than here.
"You didn't do this. I did." Jarred was struggling to sit up, but a glance over my shoulder told me how much it hurt him. Those assholes probably broke some ribs, judging by the way he winced with every move. "I just ... I'm not like you. I'm weak. I couldn't stand it anymore ..."
"I'm not any stronger than you." I thought about how close I’d come to fucking Juliet, to sacrificing everything I’d worked for just because I couldn’t control myself.
"Please don't say that. The only way I get through a day is by imagining that some day I'll grow up. That some day I could still be like you. Be strong and brave."
Shit. My heart was being slowly wrung out, twisted and pulled and warped, and I wondered if I'd be anything close to the man I'd come in as when I finally left this room. "We'll figure this out. We'll get you some help. Get off the drugs. Get a lawyer."
He gave me a look that told me he knew people like us didn't have what it took to get any of those things.
"We'll figure it out. But you have to get well."
His face crumpled for just a second, and it reminded me of every scraped elbow, every hurled word from bigger kids that I'd failed to protect him from when we were little, when the stakes were low.
"We can do it." I didn’t know how, but I knew I couldn’t fail him again. We were in it together. I had to try.
"Okay, Jace." He took a deep shaky breath. "I'm sorry."
I held his eyes a long minute, feeling the truth of his apology in my heart. “It’s okay, little buddy. I need to call Mom." I stepped from the room, as much to call my mother as to collect myself. And when I had control of my breathing, of my guilt, I called.
Chapter Fifteen
Juliet
Jace came home late. I knew this because I wandered the house all day, trying to keep myself occupied as I pretended to be doing things other than waiting for him to return. In his absence, my house felt big and empty, and I began to wonder what I ever did here alone before Jace and I had begun ... whatever it was we were doing. When I'd been married to Zac, Jace had lived out back with Chad in the guesthouse. And I'd thought of him out there sometimes, but not like this. Now it felt like he was missing. Like he wasn't where he belonged, and I couldn't possibly relax until he was back.
"Elvis, this is bad," I told the pug as I sat at the kitchen counter eating yogurt at ten P.M.
My fat little dog made a grunting noise to acknowledge my statement, and sat down, staring up at me with his big round adoring eyes.
I took another small bite of yogurt, thinking about the situation I'd found myself in. Zac, Ryan, Jace. "Maybe it would be better if I decided to swear off men altogether," I suggested.
