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As Carl and I wrestle the kitchen cabinets into place, my mind keeps drifting back to Lily. To the way devastation flashed over her face when Matt called her worthless. To the protective rage that consumed me watching someone tear down the woman I’m falling for.

Because that’s what’s happening here, isn’t it? I’m falling. Hell, I’ve fallen. Hard and fast and completely out of control. I want to believe that Carl’s right. That maybe I’m not a terrible person, but Matt’s angry words echo in my head anyway, mixing with older voices, meaner ones that taught me early that guys like me don’t get to keep good things.

I pull into Reggie’s Gas ’n Go and park, hopping out and paying for the gas. I’ve just started the pump when I glance toward the building and immediately regret it. My gut clenches as I watch my mom approach another customer with her hand outstretched, an all too familiar look painted across her face. Desperate and pleading. Dad’s slouched against the gas station wall, picking at something on his shirt, completely checked out from reality.

Fucking hell.

Mom frowns at the customer who waves her off and looks around for her next victim. I quickly duck my head, hoping I can get the hell out of here without her noticing me. I refuse to turn around even though I can feel her approach like ants crawling on my skin.

“Gage?”

My eyes flutter closed. “Goddammit,” I whisper before turning around, bracing for what’s to come.

She rushes over, her movements a little uncoordinated. The clothes hanging off her are wrinkled and stained, but it’s her pupils that kill me. They’re so dilated I can barely see her irises. Whatever she’s on today has her wired tight.

“Baby, thank God.” She reaches for me.

I take a step back. The hurt that flashes across her face almost breaks me, but I’ve learned not to let her touch me when she’s like this.

“We’ve been staying on the streets. We need a little help to get back on our feet.”

No how are you? How are things? All those pleasantries and any semblance of care discarded in her need to get high. Or, higher.

My chest tightens. “I can’t.” Boundaries. I have to keep them up.

“Please.” The word comes out as more of a sob. “Twenty dollars. That’s all. We haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, we’re doing good, real good. Sober for twenty days.”

I fight off a scoff. When I was little, she could lie to me, but now I see through it all. “You’re high right now.”

Her face twists, anger replacing the pleading so fast I get whiplash. “After everything I sacrificed for you, this is how you treat your own mother?” She shouts the question.

The gas pump clicks off behind me. Heat crawls up my neck as I notice some locals looking at us, pity written all over their faces. I need to get out of here.

“I can’t help you. I need you to leave me alone.” I yank the pump handle out and slam it back into place. “I’m not giving you money anymore. You two are old enough to fend for yourselves.”

“Gage, please—” she begins, but I’m already climbing into my truck. I slam the door on her angry face, déjà vu crashing into me. How many times have I done this? I leave her in my dust as I head to the office on autopilot.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t realize the music is turned down until I pull into a parking spot. I cut the engine and sit in the truck, staring out of the windshield with dark thoughts consuming me.

As if sensing my distress, Cole and Hudson come out to greet me, and as soon as they catch sight of me, they trade knowing looks. We’ve been friends for so long they know the one thing that’ll send me into this numb-like state.

Exhaling hard, I force myself to get out of the truck, to keep moving before my self-pity consumes me.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hudson asks.

“No, but we all know that’s not the right approach.” According to all the online therapists on social media, I can’t keep bottling it up.

Cole claps a hand on my shoulder. “We’re here for you, whatever you need. We may not get to pick our blood relations, but we’re family.”

I nod. “They were high again.”

“Shit.” Hudson shoves his hands in his pockets. “Did they ask you for money?”

“Of course they did,” I say with a hollow laugh. “Why else would they talk to me? All I’m good for is cash.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Cole says quickly. “Your parents are fucked up, man. You may not believe it right now, but you have so much to be proud of.”

Swallowing, I nod. “Yeah, I know,” I rasp. “It hurts to see them like that.”