Page 141 of Give Me Love

I’ve always tried to do right by him. I’ve always wanted his life to be better than mine even though we grew up the exact same. I also always thought he was too young to remember the shit we went through. I was wrong.

He may have been just a kid, but sometimes the big stuff sticks with us, even if we’re supposed to be too young to retain it.

“I was hoping we could clear the air between us,” I say, squinting my eyes from the bright sun.

He takes a drag from his smoke. “You mean, you could tell me the truth about everything?”

I nod and look ahead. Biting down on my lip, I think about my next words and how I’d like this to go.

I scrub my hand downward over my head. My hair’s growing out, and it’s driving me nuts. “I’ve always tried to shield you from the truth of our life.

“When you were little, I shut doors and turned music on to keep you from hearing them fight. To keep you from hearing our father turn into a pathetic excuse of a man. I didn’t want you seeing that shit,” I say, waving my hand in the air as though it’s right in front of us.

“I cleaned up bottles and picked up needles. Dove into dumpsters for cans to recycle so you wouldn’t miss a meal because Dad would be too drunk or brokenhearted to remember he had children to feed. Hell, I even stole a few toys so you could have something to play with.” I chuckle, thinking back on how nervous I was slipping Matchbox cars into my pockets.

“I know,” he says, taking a seat beside me and resting his helmet beside his leg.

“You know?” I ask.

“I’m not stupid, Bryce. I knew our parents fought, and I knew our father cried and drank himself into a stupid slumber. I saw things even when you tried to cover them up. I heard things before the music came on.

“Did I understand any of it at the time? No, but I knew we weren’t like other families. After we moved in with Lee and Emily, I thought about the family we lost daily. I recollected the bad memories and the stuff I’d seen and heard.

“I was sad about our father, hurt and pissed about our mother, but realized you were the important one. You were my family and the only thing that mattered to me. As long as I had you, I knew I’d be okay.” He hits his cigarette and leans back on the bench. Gray smoke passes through his lips. “But then you lied.”

“Can’t you see why I lied? I’ve only ever known to protect you. To make sure you were okay.”

“I’m not a goddamn kid anymore. I’m a grown man,” he yells, hitting his chest, his veins popping out of his neck. “I’ve fucking killed people, Bryce. With these hands.” He holds them up in front of him. “I don’t need protecting.” He pulls his shirt away from his chest. “Do you know the shit I’ve seen? It’s far worse than anything our parents could have done.”

“No, I don’t, because you never talk about it.”

“What would you like me to say? I’ve had to shoot a kid to keep him from killing me? I’ve walked into homes and seen dead bodies everywhere from a bomb thrown from a piece of shit car. I’ve witnessed my buddy’s arm get blown off when he wasn’t more than twenty feet from me. You don’t just casually bring this shit up.”

I shake my head and scrub down my neck. Jesus Christ. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” I say lowly.

“Why the hell are you sorry? It was my choice to go over there.”

I wish I had done this with bourbon. This is taking a toll on my stress level.

He shot a kid?

A damn kid.

I study his face as he enjoys his cigarette. My brother has always been the joker, but it’s the funny ones you have to watch out for. They hide behind that. He’s carefree, but he isn’t care-free.

I sit up, resting my elbows on my knees and rubbing my forehead, trying to gain control of my thoughts and process all of this. Taking a deep breath, I fixate on the ground in front of me.

“The things you did? Is that what made you start selling drugs. Is that why you got discharged?” I look over at him.

He shrugs. “Why does there have to be a reason?”

“There’s always a reason for everything, Jace.”

“Are Mom and Dad the reason you’ve never had a real relationship?”

I nod and look in front of me. “Yeah.” Before Kat, I probably never would have admitted that, but she’s my therapy. She’s helped me without even knowing it. I’ve always known the reason why I’ve never wanted to commit, but I’ve never been able to say it out loud. I look back at him. “Am I the reason you left and joined the Army?”

He brings his smoke to his lips and takes a drag, one eye closing before he looks away. Flicking the end of his cigarette and letting the ashes fall, he says, “I left because I wanted to.”

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