THE ALCOHOL I’d been drinking all day like my very being depended on it has long turned sour in my stomach. The headache that’s building feels like someone is stepping on my skull. All I want to do is sleep off how terrible the last sixteen hours have been, but I can’t focus on my needs right now. I have to prioritize my brother.
It took five hours for us to find him. We searched all the usual places and hit up all the people that we could think of. It was when we were about to do our twentieth lap around the city that Rome’s cousin, Vinny, finally woke up from his oxy-induced nap and saw our missed calls. He’s a dealer and way worse off than Pax is. My brother is in the throes of addiction, but I have to believe he’s not too far gone. I can still pull him back from the edge before he drowns in the pills.
It is my fucking job to make sure what happened to my mom never happens to Pax. I will die for my brother before I let his dependence on pills pull him under like it did her. It’s a slippery slope and we both saw how one too many can cause irreversible damages.
“Pax, you have to help me out,” I grunt as I lug my brother through the front door of my house. This would be easier with another person, but Rome had to stay behind at his cousin’s and wait for his uncle to show up. I wasn’t going to wait around with him to see how an Italian mobster deals with his druggie son. I had my own addict to deal with and I needed to get him home.
Pax’s legs give out from under him, and I almost lose my grip on him. Repositioning my shoulder underneath his arm, I manage to get him into the living room.
At the sound of our approach, Posie, who had fallen asleep leaning against the pole I chained her to, opens her eyes. It takes her a second to figure out what she’s staring at, but when she does, her face loses color and she springs to her feet.
“Oh my god, is he okay?” She tries to get closer, but the leather cuffs on her wrists stop her from getting more than three feet.
“Does he fucking look okay?” I snap cruelly at her. How dare she ask that? She is the reason his mom accidentally overdosed on pills and is now dependent on them himself. This is all her fault.
At the sound of Posie’s voice, Pax’s head rolls toward it as if he’s seeking her out. Even in this condition, his connection to her still stands. Posie sees this and pulls on her restraints again. “Let me go so I can help you get him upstairs.”
“How many times do I have to say—”
She cuts me off, her voice rising overtop of mine. “Fuck, Rafferty! I get it. You don’t want my help, but right now you need it. You barely got him through the front door, how do you plan on getting him up those stairs without him falling and cracking his head?”
I hate that she’s right.
Choosing my brother’s safety over my revenge, I reach into my jeans pocket and retrieve the small key. It makes a tinging sound when it hits the floor in front of her. Not waiting for her to free herself, I use the time to move Pax closer to the base of the stairs. While this house has been renovated and modernized, the stairs are original and steep as shit. Pax is smaller than me, but we’re both tall fuckers. Carrying him up them is going to be a bitch.
Posie, free of her chains, appears at my brother’s other side. His glassy eyes crack open when she touches his face and whispers, “Pax.”
I can only describe the sound that comes from him when he realizes who’s standing there as a choked sob.
“P…” he slurs, his jaw wobbling.
Something deep inside me aches watching this. I haven’t seen him cry since our mom’s funeral, but one look at his long-lost best friend has him breaking.
She rubs her thumb over his cheekbone where a bruise is starting to form. I don’t have the slightest clue how he got hurt tonight, and I doubt he’ll be able to remember himself.
“It’s okay,” she tells him softly. “We’ve got you. You’re safe.”
His head rolls farther toward her and he presses his forehead to hers. I’m not sure if it was his goal as he has little to no control over his body right now. Nonetheless, that’s where he ends up and Posie leans into it. She holds his face in her hand, her thumb wiping away each of the tears that fall from his hooded eyes.
“P…” he chokes again.
“Shh… I’m here,” she soothes gently. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”
She looks at me and nods her head once, signaling that she’s ready.
It’s slow, strenuous work but we manage to get him up to the first landing of the curved staircase before his bones turn to Jell-O again. He slips from both of our grasps and collapses on the small landing. He slumps awkwardly in the corner where the walls meet. His legs are bent at odd angles beneath him. His short dark hair is greasy and standing straight up on his head and there’s dried blood around one of the black hoops in his bottom lip, like he’d accidentally pulled on it.
Dropping to her knees beside him, Posie tries to pull him away from the wall so we can get him up again, but he’s dead weight right now.
“Pax, focus. You have to help us get you up so we can get you into bed,” she tries.
He manages to fully open his eyes and look at her, but I don’t know if he’s really seeing Posie. “I’m sorry,” he hoarsely tells her.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” she reassures him and grabs his tattooed hand in hers. “Absolutely nothing.”
His head moves in jerky moves. “That’s not true. This is my fault. I did this. I’m sorry.”
“None of this is your fault. I promise,” she insists. Her honey gaze flicks to me, but she can’t retain eye contact for long. “Raff, help me get him up.”
“Yeah, because your promises are worth so much,” I comment under my breath.
She doesn’t look at me as she snaps, “Honestly, Rafferty. Can you shut the fuck up for once? If you haven’t noticed, now is not the time. I promise you can continue to take it out on me at a later date.”
Teeth grinding to keep from arguing, I bend down and haul my brother off the ground. He sways on his unsteady legs out of my hold, and Posie jumps in front of him before he can topple down the stairs we’d just gotten him up. My heart lodges in my throat when his heavy weight has her smaller frame stumbling back. Her hands are on his chest, trying to keep him from falling forward, but in doing so she jeopardizes her own safety.
Pulling my brother back by the collar of his shirt, and without thinking about it, I’m reaching for her with my free hand. She reaches out for me at the same time. Her fingers intertwine with mine and I pull her upright. My whole body breaks out in a cold sweat as fear grips me at the thought of her falling. I don’t breathe again until she regains her balance once more.
A little pale, Posie stares at me and then at our joined hands. The swarm of conflicting emotions I’m experiencing are reflected in her eyes. I used to dream of Posie’s demise, my fury at her making me believe that it would be a joyous event to witness. Now, as the icy fear eases its grip on my chest, I’m wondering if I may have been wrong.
It’s Posie who lets go first. She returns all her attention to my brother. I shake my head, trying to clear it of these unwanted thoughts and do the same.
I wrap my arm around my brother again and Posie mirrors this move on his other side. Aside from incoherent mumbling from Pax, we work in complete silence until we reach his room. The brick walls are covered in various pictures he’s sketched over the years. He always used to excel in the elective art classes at Hemlock Hill. His artistic side was always something my mom loved and my dad merely tolerated. After everything happened and Pax grew quiet, he began to draw more.
We get him to the king-sized platform bed that’s been pushed into the middle of the spacious room for some reason, and as gracefully as we can, drop him onto the mattress. He lands halfway onto his stomach and side, his knees bent up toward his chest.
Posie kneels beside the bed and continues to lightly trace her fingers over his face while he comes in and out consciousness.
“Will you stay with me?” he mumbles partially into his black pillowcase. “Like you used to?”
She pulls in a breath, preparing to answer, but whatever is on the tip of her tongue ceases when she looks at me.
My arms cross in front of me and I stare down at her through narrowed eyes. “She can’t, Pax.” I can’t let him get close to her again. He won’t survive it if something else happens with her, and I don’t trust her to not betray us again. “She has to leave.”
Posie stares at me with an expression I can’t quite decipher before leaning forward to press a kiss to Pax’s temple. “He’s right, I can’t stay here.”
Pax repeats the same thing he told her on the stairs multiple times, “I’m so sorry, P.”
Her breath catches like she’s trying not to cry as her chin bows to her chest. When she lifts her head again after a quiet moment, her light brown eyes are shiny with unshed tears. “You never have to apologize to me, Pax. I’m okay, and you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You’re right, he hasn’t. This is all on you. You’re the reason he’s like this,” I tell her coldly.
She doesn’t try to argue this, but Pax does. “No, that’s not true. Don’t say that to—”
Posie cups his face and stiffly shakes her head, cutting off whatever else he was going to say.. “It’s okay. He can blame me.” She reaches over him and grabs the balled-up blanket. Silently, she puts it over him before kissing his forehead one more time and standing up. “Just get some sleep. You always feel better in the morning.”
She wipes her face and leaves the room without another word. Pax is asleep before she closes the door behind her.
Something about their whole interaction tonight isn’t sitting right. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of my head I can’t shake. Just the fact that my brother cried tonight seeing her speaks volumes to me, and that’s why I storm out the door after her.
