Page 128 of Guitars and Cages

I yanked on a pair of sweat pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt and made sloppy joes, one of the few things I could make and not burn. I had two and left Cole the rest, killing off a can of sliced pineapples and a beer with my dinner, and then I fell onto the couch to let the TV watch me while I took a nap.

It was growing dark when I woke up to banging on the door. The sound startled me and I rolled, forgetting I was on the couch, and hit the floor with a thud that sent pain racing through my shoulder and knifing down my side. Sitting up with a gasp, I clutched my side, taking a moment to try and breathe through the pain, even as the banging continued.

“I’m comin’,” I hollered at the door before climbing carefully back to my feet. My hair was tangled in my face and eyes, and I brushed it aside to limp to the door, ’cause damn, landing on my leg hadn’t made that feel too good, either. For a moment I was reminded of the last time someone had beaten all holy hell outta my door to wake me up, and had to smile at the memory of Kimber and Rory standing at the door, her shocked look when I answered naked. I missed having that kid around every day. Maybe if things ever got close to normal, Morgan might let me take him to the stables for riding lessons, as long as my boss said it was okay.

I glanced sideways at the clock and was grateful to see I still had an hour and a half before I needed to be at the bar. I was thinking about more sleep when I answered the door to a furious, red-faced Morgan with his fist poised to beat on it again.

“Where the fuck is Cole?” he snarled, storming past me into the apartment.

I was smart enough to step back out of the way. “He ain’t here, I don’t think. He wasn’t here when I got home from work.”

Morgan growled and stormed through the apartment, flipping on the light in Cole’s room and then swearing again when he found it empty.

“What did he do?”

Morgan stood there, breathing heavy and swearing for a few minutes more before he’d even look at me. “Alexia heard him make a comment to Rory about his drawings, something about how it was great that he liked art as long as he didn’t turn into a cross-dressing fruit loop like Alexia. Well, she stepped in and called Cole out for being the bigoted bastard he is, and according to Rory—since Alexia was too upset to say much to me when I found her sobbing her eyes out—Cole said a whole mess of hateful, mean things until Rory yelled at him for making her cry and told him he shouldn’t pick on girls.”

A part of me wanted to smile, ’cause goddamn, I could just hug that kid, but another part of me felt lower than dog shit, ’cause an eight-year-old could do what I didn’t dare. “Damn.”

Morgan’s face got red and he about erupted again. “That’s all you got to say?”

I felt immediately defensive, backing up, holding my hands open ’cause I didn’t wanna fight. “I don’t know what the hell else to say, Morgan. It’s not like I was there. I never thought he’d say shit like that to Rory.”

“Yeah, well, he ain’t fuckin’ welcome at my place until he gets his head outta his ass. He ain’t gonna be comin’ around Rory poisoning that kid’s mind the way your old man did with you boys.”

At that I could only look away, let my hair fall over my eyes and hide as I listened to him pacing.

“I don’t know what the hell to do with you guys anymore. What the hell is wrong with you? Family used to be the most important thing to you, loyalty used to mean something, and now you all just throw each other away, hurt each other, and stomp all over one another’s feelings.”

I could feel a spark of anger flare up again, and I glared at him, fists clenching. “My family is still important to me, despite what you might think. I would do anything for you guys, even if you do hate me.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, looking furious. “What are you talking about? I never once said I hated you!”

“No, you said to get the fuck out and to not come around until the sight of me didn’t make you sick anymore. Well, how the hell was I supposed to know how long that was gonna be, or if you’d ever change your mind? Not like I expect you to, now that you know what a disgusting whore I am.”

I looked away from him then, trying to find the words to express myself.

“I’m sorry I didn’t grow into the man you hoped I’d be. I wanted to, I used to try real hard to make you proud of me ’cause you were always so much better to me than my old man was, and I used to wish you were my old man. I know you can’t forgive the things I’ve done with Gage, and now with Alexia. I can’t make excuses for it, all I can say is that I was selfish—and you’re right, I took the easy way out by doing nothing and turning a blind eye to it all, lying and cheating and trying to wish it would all go away. I know that’s not the way to fix problems.”

My hands were shaking, and all I could feel was shame.

“I spent so much time on the streets alone. Sometimes I’d meet someone like me, another runaway, and we’d watch each other’s backs for a while, but eventually I’d find myself alone again when they drifted on, or OD’d, or went back home. Every time I ran back home it was with a vow to do better, to stop hitting on Kimber or falling back into a relationship with Gage, but it would happen anyway, and I’d take off again, and I’d miss you guys more than I could ever say. There’s a lot of things I wish I’d done differently, and I know I can’t go back and change them, but I’ve been trying real hard to be different and to not lie so much and keep my promises. I just wish you could see past all my failures. I wish you could still forgive me when I screw up, the way you used to when I was a kid. I love you, Morgan, I still wish you were my old man, even though I know I’d be nothing but a disappointment as a son to you.”

I waited for him to leave, or blow up at me, but whatever he was thinking about doing was interrupted when Cole picked that moment to come storming into the apartment.

“Oh fuckin’ joy, angry Morgan come to play the part of the pissed-off daddy? Thanks, but not in the mood for it today.”

“I don’t care what you’re in the mood for, you’re going to listen to what I have to say, or so help me you’re going to see more of pissed-off Morgan than you ever hoped to see!”

“You don’t fucking scare me, and don’t come in here with your sanctimonious bullshit, with all the things you’ve done to fuck this family up! You got your fuckin’ golden child, why don’t you leave the rest of us alone?”

When Morgan loudly began telling Cole that this had nothing to do with who was whose kid and everything to do with the shit he’d said to Rory and Alexia, I picked that time to leave. I’d said what I needed to, anyway, so they could scream and cuss at one another without me. I was gonna go find Alexia and make sure she was okay. Raised voices followed me down the stairs, and even outside I could hear the occasional bellow and curse. I really hoped they settled things; it sucked seeing my family falling apart.

One thing was for certain: things were going to have to change, if not for us, then for Rory’s sake. That little boy didn’t need to be raised in a house of fighting and cussing the way we’d been brought up. Maybe we’d be better men today if someone had changed things for us when we were young. Dr. Hozman was right. Nothing could be done to change the past, but dammit, we could all at least learn from it.

I let myself into the bar by the back way and headed up the stairs, glad Morgan hadn’t opened the bar yet tonight. It would be easier to deal with the drama with the place closed. I was shocked when I saw a miserable-looking Rory sitting on the top step, rather than in his room. One look at his tear-streaked face and the way his lower lip trembled before more tears fell, and I wanted to punch someone out. Guess I was no better than the others after all. I sat down next to him and put my arm around him, and he pressed his face to my shoulder and sobbed, clinging to me. His little body shook as he cried, and I held him tight and stroked his hair until he sat up, sniffling.

“Does Uncle Cole hate me now?” he asked, and my fists clenched at the hurt and uncertainty in his voice.

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