Page 106 of Things We Never Got Over (Knockemout)
“Yeah. You do,” he countered. “Pain is what tells you you’re alive. You numb that, and how do you know you’re still here?”
“She thinks we’re both idiots,” I said when the nurse left.
Nash gave a wheeze followed by a wracking cough that looked like it was going to tear him apart before collapsing back on the bed. I watched the green spikes on his heart rate monitor slowly settle. “Who?” he said, finally.
“Naomi.”
“Why would Naomi think I’m an idiot?” he asked wearily.
“Told her why things are the way they are.”
“She wasn’t impressed with your Robin Hood routine or my manly independence?”
“Not even a little. She may have made a few points.”
“About what?”
“About how she thought it was over a woman. Not money.”
Nash’s head was slowly lolling to the side, his eyelids getting heavier. “So love is worth a family feud but a few million isn’t?”
“That was the gist of it.”
“Can’t say she’s wrong.”
“Then why the fuck didn’t you just suck it up and make it right?” I snapped.
Nash’s smile was a ghost. His eyes were closed. “You’re the big brother. And you were the one trying to make me beholden to you by shoving cash down my throat.”
“The only reason I’m not kicking your ass right now is you’re attached to too many machines.”
He gave me a weak middle finger.
“Jesus,” I grumbled. “I didn’t want you to be beholden or whatever the fuck to me. We’re family. We’re brothers. One of us wins, we both win.” It also meant if one of us lost, we both did. And that was what the last few years had been. A loss.
Fuck. I hated losing.
“Didn’t want the money,” he said, his words slurring. “Wanted to build things on my own.”
“You could’ve put it away for retirement or some shit,” I complained. The same old cocktail of feelings was trying to rise in me. Rejection. Failure. Righteous fury. “You deserved some good. After the shit we went through, then Liza J losing Pop. You deserved more than a cop salary from some shitty town.”
“Our shitty town,” he corrected. “Made it ours. You in your way. Me in mine.”
Maybe he was right. But that didn’t matter. What did matter was the fact that if he would have taken the cash, he wouldn’t be here in this hospital room. My little brother would be making a difference some other way. Without toeing the line. Without paying the price.
“Should have kept the money. If you had, you wouldn’t be lying here like roadkill.”
Nash shook his head slowly against the pillow. “I was always gonna be the good guy.”
“Shut up and go to sleep,” I told him.
“We went through some shit. But I always had my big brother. Always knew I could count on you. Didn’t need your money on top of that.”
Nash’s shoulders sagged. Sleep took him under its spell, leaving me to sit in silent vigil.
The automatic doors opened, spilling me and a cloud of air conditioning into the humidity of the breaking dawn. I’d stayed by Nash’s bedside, letting my rage simmer. Knowing what came next.
I wanted to punch a hole through the building’s facade. I wanted to bring a tidal wave of retribution down on the person responsible.
