Page 44 of Bound

He got arrested, the fucker got himself arrested.

That was the only thing that made sense to me. Zander had done something stupid, and had gotten caught. Don't get me wrong, I was far from innocent. The both of us had been wild, running the streets and raising hell.

We used to be close, but he went his way, and I went mine. That's what happens with siblings, you eventually grow apart, changing as the world either drags you down or pushes you up.

I got into some shit that even the baddest prison asshole would probably run from. The thing was, I was actually really good at my job. I didn't blink an eye when they asked me to jack a semi or rough someone up who owed them money. And as I got better, as I got stronger and my conscience seemed to dwindle down to nothing, my jobs became darker.

I could kill any man, no questions asked. The money was good, but the notoriety was better. It got to the point that the boss would personally ask for me to make the next hit. I felt really good, I was high on the power surging through my veins.

Until the day it all changed.

I was easily swayed back then, a gullible young man who trusted too easily, and gave too much for someone who didn't care. My boss never gave me a reason before not to trust him, and I was stupid enough to think we were a family.

That was the picture he created. He made me feel like I was important, like I truly meant something to the organization.

But I was blind to the truth. We all have limits, it doesn't matter how bad you are. They crossed the line, and for the first time ever, I told him no. I couldn't pull the trigger.

I thought Marcos Disesto was alright with it. After going to him myself, and telling him I couldn't do it, that I was done with all of this, he shook my hand and smiled. He told me that he understood.

“Don't worry about it, it's alright,” he said, cupping my hand in his and squeezing. Patting the back of my palm, he lifted his hand to my face and gently slapped my cheek. “You do what you need to do, and I'll do the same.”

I walked out thinking that there was no bad blood between us.

I was so fucking wrong.

He set me up, threatened my family and tried to have me killed. What he didn't count on was me coming out alive. So I ran, dead set on never looking back, confident that if I was gone my family would be safe.

He didn't want my family, Marcos wanted me.

I thought Zander knew that, I expected him to understand. But he never did.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I dragged them down my face, and stared out the window. I never planned on going back; not if I didn't have to.

Miles had been put between us for a good reason.

I couldn't promise to keep them safe if I was there. I couldn't be sure the crew wouldn't find out and come seeking revenge. I wasn't even sure they ever stopped looking for me.

Not that any of that mattered, because my family wanted nothing to do with me anyway. My father told me I was dead to him, that I was a disgrace and he never wanted to see my face again. My mother looked at me like I wasn't her son, like I had been replaced by some vile creature she didn't recognize.

The rumors had spread, and I could see it in her eyes that she wasn't sure anymore about me. Nothing hurt more than that, it stabbed my heart like a serrated blade.

She doubted me. And I couldn't blame her for it.

I had lied to her over and over again about what I was doing for work, and where I had been. When the truth finally came out, everything changed between us.

Was it worth the risk to go back?

He's your little brother! If he needs you, you should be there!

Zander was family, that was all that mattered. Because that's what big brothers do, they take the high road and help the ones they love. . .

I'm helping them by not being there. I'm saving them by staying away.

What the hell do I do?

* * * *

The car idled quietlyin the driveway, and I stared up at my parents new home. It took me a little while to find it, having to go off bad directions from my grandmother.

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