Page 132 of Rules of Association

“Connor, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t fucking apologize for her, Clint. For the last time you are not her,” I said. In all honesty this had just always been.

Clint was an extension of my mother. Unfortunately they both thought of him that way, and while it was true they were a lot alike, they were plenty different too. And it was so hard watching him strain against the restraints of being forced into a puzzle piece he didn’t quite fit in, that I was sort of guilty of the same offense as him. I was letting him suffer all the same for the sake of not wanting to rock the boat. So being mad at him would make me a hypocrite. “Anyway, it has nothing to do with you or even Mom.”

“What?”

“My absence lately. It has nothing to do with you or mom being monumental assholes.” I crooked a smile. “I’m not stalling or punishing you or anything. I just genuinely haven’t found out who the hacker is. It hasn’t been at the top of my priorities. And I’m sorry for that.”

Damn was I fucking sorry for that. I didn’t want my brother to get arrested just to prove a point.

I sighed. “And maybe I was a little frustrated that you just let Mom be Mom all the time without saying anything in my defense. But honestly, I think in the end I want to be the one to stand up for myself. Turns out it’s hard for me too…butIwill be the one to say ‘when’.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes flicking over me quickly to assess. They narrowed slightly. “So you’re saying you’ve just been…busy?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t hate us?”

I laughed, “You guys are damn annoying, but I don’t hate you.”

He stared right at me. “And you think you can find them if you focus?”

I thought about it for a second. Thought about the work I had already done and the work I had unconsciously ignored in this dance of emotions and novelty with Ceci. I had definitely been spending more time and energy fixating on my changing feelings for her than on this issue that was turning out to be bigger than I initially thought. Still, whoever was fucking with the files were good, but they weren’tthatgood and even if they were, I was better. I could find them. If it was between that and my brother going to literal jail, Iwouldfind them.

And I told Clinton that much.

And you know what, he believed me. And that was the thing about him. As much as his spine seemed to disappear when mom was around, he had always believed in us. And I would not let that be a mistake for him. I would not let this come down on him. So, like we were having an actual illegal meeting and not just one about how to stop a cyber security attack on my family’s business, I leaned in and spoke in an urgent whisper. Clay had skills, but I doubted he could hold mom off for long.

“What all do you need to clear this up for good?”

So he told me. And by the time the door burst open and the jumbled mess of my mom, my dad, and my other brother spilled through the doorway, I was already formulating a plan of action in my head. Which made me all the less excited to deal with whatever drama that had just rolled in.

“You’re done with this,” Mom said, pointing at me with a menacing finger that used to have us shaking in our boots before it was even fully extended when we were kids. Now it had a hell of a lot less shock factor coming from half a foot below.

“Okay.”

Her head cocked, confusion appearing on her face immediately. “Okay?”

“Yeah, Mom. Okay,” I said, starting to move so that I can push out of the room.

“Where the hell do you think you're going?”

“I’m leaving,” I said. “I’m done with this, remember? Or is that not what you just said?”

“It is, but you're not leaving. This is a family discussion. You need to be here.”

“Really?” I asked, my own head cocking in that same way. “Because I have nothing else to contribute, since I’m so done. So I might as well leave now, huh Mom?”

She was silent for two beats. And then she flipped her gaze to Clint. “What’s wrong with your brother?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s all mouthy, like that one,” she said, flipping her hand over her shoulder in Clay’s general direction. He blinked and jerked his head back, offended.

Clint looked at me and then shrugged. “He’s a grown man, Mom. Talk to him about it.”

Her mouth puckered, no doubt not used to (and not liking) the cold shoulder from Clint. But she turned back to me, her eyebrows raising. “You have something to say to me?”

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