I PUSHED MYSELF UP the steep hill, wiping the sweat from my brow as I rounded into the drive of the house. All too eager to get back to my girls after my run.
Overhead, birds chirped in the still of the trees, branches outstretched and even though it was nearing winter, still shading everything in their spindly path, little darts of sunlight breaking through.
I inhaled the calm.
For once in my life, I finally felt at total peace.
Three days had passed since I’d been cut loose and we’d finally sent Martin straight to hell.
Exactly where he was always supposed to be.
Taking the walkway on long strides, I burst through the front door to the silence ringing back.
Afternoon light bled in through the windows, the large living space lit up like a torch, casting the corners and niches and halls in shadows.
I rounded the corner to hit the stairs.
I stumbled to a stop when I saw the lone figure sitting on the bottom step of the staircase.
Hoodie pulled up over his head, arms hugging his knees where they were tucked to his chest, feet planted on the floor as he slowly rocked.
Austin.
A huge duffle bag sat on the floor in front of him.
When he noticed me there, he jerked his head up.
His sorrow hit me head on.
Crazy that even in all that peace, with the purpose I now had in my life, the thought of my baby brother still provoked a feeling of devastation.
He slowly stood as I inched closer.
“Austin,” I muttered quietly, feeling the question that came off with his name. Unease whittled its way through me. Stoked something fierce and protective in my gut.
He swallowed hard as those grey eyes met with mine.
Remorse.
Shame.
Sadness.
My heart stuttered and clenched. Uneasily, my gaze dropped to the tattered stuffed monkey he fisted in his hand at his side.
Shit.
This kid…this fucking awesome kid.
“Austin,” I said again. This time with caution.
His mouth trembled as he choked through anguished laughter. “Knew you had this hidden somewhere.”
A tear slipped free from the corner of his eye. In anger, he swiped it away. “My whole life I’ve lived in guilt. It’s the only thing I’ve felt for so long, I hardly recognize anything else.”
“Aust—”
“Let me finish, Baz. You need to hear this. Maybe as much as I do.”
His mouth worked, hesitation thick, before he set the words free. “Losing Julian killed something inside me, Baz.”
Steadily, he met my eye. “And I know you loved him. I’m not about to belittle that. I know you loved him the same way you love me. But I don’t think you can understand the kind of bond I severed that day. The piece of me that died with him, because he was a living part of me. All these years I’ve searched for something…anything to fill the void he left. Then I moved on to doing anything to mask it when I realized that void was never gonna go away.”
Fuck.
I wanted to go to him.
Wrap him up and take it away.
Same way I’d been attempting to do for years.
Watching the way his entire body heaved just about ruined me. But I kept silent, respecting what he asked.
“All it did was pile on more guilt. Every decision I made just hurt someone else. The lies I told. The secrets I kept.”
Disgust lined his face. “Since I was eight years old, I’ve been reliant on you. You took that burden and wore it like it fit, and I just let you because I didn’t think I had anything else.”
He looked toward the ceiling. “Then Shea showed up and finally gave you something truly worth fighting for. Someone who would appreciate it. Someone who gives you just as much as she gains. It made me realize how much more is out there, Baz. Everything I’m missing and everything it costs you by me being here. Shea and Kallie…they deserve all of you.”
His gaze dropped to the bag on the floor. “I have to go.”
Grief fisted my throat. “No, Austin. You gotta know you mean everything. Just because my family has grown doesn’t mean there’s not room in it for you. I can’t stand the thought of you leaving me.”
A somber smile just touched his face. “I’m not leaving you, Baz. It’s just time I found myself. Told you before, the way Shea looks at you? Someday…someday I want someone to look at me the same way. And when she does, I want to be strong. Someone who can stand up for her the way you stand up for Shea. And I’m not that guy, Baz. Not yet. I’m nothing but a broken little kid living inside this body, trying to pretend I’m a man.”
The words cracked. “I’ve got to find a way to be him or I’m not going to make it. Can’t continue to go on like this.”
The expression on his face twisted through me like a dull, bitter blade, this kid showing so much innocent hope and so much seasoned fucking pain.
Longing desperation.
Scared the hell out of me to think of him out there on his own in this fucked-up world.
But I finally got it. What he’d been trying to tell me before.
My feet felt heavy when I took two steps forward and pulled my baby brother into my arms. He heaved out a breath and buried his face in my chest. I wrapped my arms around his head while he clung to my waist and just fucking sobbed.
For a second, it felt like I was holding that same eight-year-old boy who’d wept that day. That fucking devastating day when we’d lost everything. The day when everything had gone to shit and we knew things were never gonna be the same.
Just like we knew it now.
Things weren’t ever gonna be the same.
Finally, he tore himself away, eyes red and bleary and blurred.
He sniffed and I gripped him by the sides of his neck, squeezing in emphasis. “No matter where this world takes you, no matter where you go, I’ll always be your home.”
He grasped my wrists. “I know.”
Taking a step back, he bent over and grabbed his bag and slung the strap over his shoulder, still clutching the worn monkey to his chest.
His eyes were downcast when he edged around me.
“Just…” I called, this old piece of me breaking free, feeling like he was ripping it away. Like this kid needed to take a part of me with him.
And God, if that’s what it took for him to finally break free of this past, then I’d let him.
“Keep in touch,” I finally said. “I need to know you’re okay. Where you are. For my own sanity.”
For a moment, he paused with his hand on the knob of the door, before he turned to look back at me from over his shoulder.
The smile he projected was soft and thankful and somehow resolved.
Then he dipped his head in a nod and my baby brother walked out the door.