I saw my brother as soon as I walked through the door—same table in the same restaurant we always met at. Not that we met very often. I was the only guy whose sleeves were tattooed on, but the servers didn’t hassle me because they knew I tipped well.

“I have to get back soon, so I ordered for both of us.” Sure. Hayden’s office hours were from nine am to five am the next day, even on weekends.

“Very romantic, bro, but you’re not getting any.”

Hayden didn’t smile because Hayden never smiled because Hayden was never happy. He wore his melancholy well, though, and the only reason it was so glaringly obvious to me was because over the years we’d had a couple conversations. Not many, because our family saw emotions as something other people had, at least while we were sober. Even though Hayden is about the same size as I am, he’s always been a lightweight.

But to someone who didn’t know what a train wreck he’d lived with until Renee shipped him off to boarding school, he looked pretty damn perfect. Professional, way more socially acceptable and better behaved than I was, hardworking, and with no idea how to have a good time.

My theory was that he worked so much so he didn’t have to be at home with his wife. Clare was great and really nice to look at, but it didn’t take more than two minutes to figure out there was absolutely no connection between them. That was probably why Hayden managed to look lonely in a crowd of people.

“Why have I been summoned today, big brother?” I asked.

Hayden put his napkin on his lap. “I heard you’ve been giving Mom money.”

“So?”

“Why?” He held up his hand. “Don’t answer that. I know why and I think it’s a terrible idea, not to mention incredibly unhealthy. If you don’t want to have a relationship with her, fine, but don’t pay her off and think that’s enough.”

“Why not? It seems to work pretty damn well most of the time.” I rolled my eyes at his glare. “She blew all of it. Did you know that? Everything Dad left her, and everything she could get out of her other husbands. She generously donated it all to Saks and Gucci. They thanked her by giving her shit she doesn’t need and only uses once or twice.” Our mother was a piece. Thank goodness there was always another guy to treat her like a queen in public and a pauper at home.

“I also heard what happened after the Walk—her side at least. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, by the way.” Since Hayden was one of the few board members I actually liked, I knew he wanted to be there. “Clare and I donated a little extra online.”

“To pay me off?” I sighed and waited until the server left before speaking again. “She’s going right back in for another round, Hayden. Doesn’t that bother you? Even if there weren’t a whole bunch of other tragic reasons, she wants to live a certain lifestyle, and she doesn’t have the funds to do it. I wanted to give her a chance.” Again and again and again. “If that means sending her a check every month, then I’ll send her a check every month. Although, she’s doing it anyway so it didn’t work after all, did it? Unfortunately, she’s not only the gold-digger I always thought she was. I guess she needs something other than money.”

Without saying it outright—because we never did—Hayden knew exactly what I was talking about. We had the same father and had seen and felt a lot of the same things. Including, but not limited to, belts, hardcover books, and fists.

Hayden was a few years older than me and had already been out of the house for a while when our dad died, so he’d missed all the fun years after that. The years when our mother went from asshole to asshole, dragging her younger son along for the ride, keeping him close instead of sending him to boarding school like she had with Hayden. But it didn’t matter who’d gotten more of it or from whom—damage is damage.

I could have run away or moved in with Hayden when he turned eighteen, but back then I’d been stupid enough to think that being with her was actually doing something to help her. He didn’t know about any of the shit that was going on. Not until a lot later. When we both got shit-faced and I got chatty.

For a reason I didn’t understand, Hayden had always known it wasn’t normal. Maybe it was because I’d known so many of them—every man Renee picked was just like our father. So I’d grown up thinking that hurting the ones you claim to love is what a man did. I spent a lot of nights with a lot of tears, wishing I wouldn’t have to do it someday.

All the assholes who said they loved my mother couldn’t keep their hands off her. Some of them couldn’t keep their hands off me, either. Not in a touchy-feely way. No—when I got touched, it was with a fist.

I remembered the night I found out that it wasn’t normal. The look on my friend’s face when I asked him what he usually got hit with. All men have their weapon of choice. But this kid’s dad didn’t. This kid’s dad punished by grounding him or taking away the keys to his car. At the time, Renee and I had been living with Anna and her dad for about a year. His weapon of choice was leather. That fucker sure liked leather.

The next day I’d talked to Anna about something real for the first time. She didn’t talk back. She didn’t say a word, even though I went after her, trying to make her understand. From that point on, I wanted to take care of her—clean her up and get her ice whenever she needed it.

“How many times have you tried to get Mom out?” Hayden asked. “How many times has she wanted your help?” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, we can’t decide for her. Someday maybe, which is why I keep in touch with her, but it’s up to her. It’s not your responsibility, little brother. Just like it’s not your fault.”

People always say that. They also say, ‘if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem,’ and a whole bunch of other contradictory shit.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think hard,” Hayden said. “I hear you had to write a big check to someone else recently, too.”

Did he mean—? “The guy from the bar fight?” I shoved back from the table. “I need to fire all those assholes. Did the whole client-confidentiality thing get thrown out while I wasn’t looking?”

“They work for me too, and Scott is on the board. What you do affects the foundation, Carson.”

“As if I don’t know that. Yes, I paid.” In coin, at least. “But no, it wasn’t a big check—it was a regular-sized one. I don’t think banks will cash the big cardboard ones.”

He completely ignored my attempt at humor and tossed his napkin on the table. “Nothing like that can ever happen again, Carson. I don’t care how good your reasons were—it can’t happen again.”

“It won’t.”

“Good. So tell me about this girl.”

I groaned. “She’s a friend.”

“Benefits or no?”

“What the hell?” We didn’t talk about this stuff. Ever. But Hayden just sat there with an expectant look on his face. “Yes. Okay, yes. There are benefits. Great benefits. Don’t tell Renee, though. It will give her an excuse to call me.”

“Do you treat her well?”

I leaned back in my chair, not even pretending to eat anymore. “Yeah, I treat her well.”

“Do you think it’s going to turn into something?”

I paused. “No. She’s great but…no. Neither of us want that.”

Hayden laughed but it was a sad laugh, something deeper. “Someday it won’t matter what you want. Hopefully someday, with someone, you won’t have a choice. She’ll come into your life and show you how wrong you’ve been about everything you’ve ever known. And you won’t stand a chance against her, little brother.”

For the first time, I saw life in my brother’s eyes. And, as good as it was to see, it also scared the shit out of me. Because Hayden never laughed and there was never a spark in his eyes—that just wasn’t who he was. And if my older, stable, logical brother was doing things he’d never done before, anything was possible. Well, almost anything.

“Nah,” I said. “We both want to keep things just like they are.”