I remember the moment Connor walked through the door of our house for the first time. Mom and Dad had explained that a friend of Gilbert’s had a family who didn’t love him and that our family had more than enough love to share. That he was going to be my new brother. When he arrived, I thought he must have been from a family of giants. He was so tall. Already taller than my dad. He was huge. Looking back at family photos, I realize how thin he was, nearly malnourished-looking, but I hadn’t noticed that at the time. He’d seemed massive. Plus, the way my heart had tripped over itself in fear, at least that was the only familiar sensation I could attribute it to, was only more proof of his giant status.

However, that giant was gentle, and kind, and patient. And he often seemed more scared of me than I was of him. Scared of all of us. Before long, I loved him, adored him, worshiped him as much as I did Gilbert.

The other clear memory I have was his parents showing up. It had been confusing. Sure, I’d known Connor had a different mom and dad, but he’d blended in so perfectly, my own parents treating him no different from the rest of us that somehow in the months in between, I’d forgotten. It had been the first day of Christmas break. We’d been so excited. Out of school, nothing but parties and presents and sleeping in. Somehow that made their appearance so much worse.

We’d been sent to our room. All of us. There’d been screaming and yelling downstairs. With all of us kids, there was always at least one fight or another going on, but I’d never heard screaming like this, never heard anger like it.

I’d tried to take shelter in Gilbert and Connor’s room, but Gilbert wouldn’t let me. Said it was his job to protect Connor, and I’d only get in the way. Hayley let Lacy and me hide in her room, both of them holding and soothing me when I’d started to cry. The yelling continued, growing louder and angrier, and nearer.

Outside the bedroom doors.

And then it was over. Complete silence. Mom and Dad came to get us, told us that Connor was gone, but they were going to get him back.

Gilbert stayed in his room the entire next week. He wouldn’t let me in, but I’d heard him crying sometimes. That helped. Made me feel less like a little kid when I was crying.

I never knew what happened, never asked. Mom and Dad were tense, always on the phone, running here and there.

Christmas Eve came, and Connor returned. A black eye, split lip, a bit skinnier than the week since I’d last seen him. But he was back. Mom and Dad said he was back for good. For always.

Since I was four, I’d added my talent on the violin to the Christmas singalong the Kellys and my family always had on Christmas Eve. That night, I played “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” said it was for Connor. Made Mom and Dad promise they’d meant what they’d said. That Connor was home to stay. They swore they did.

I made Connor promise he’d never leave again. He promised he wouldn’t.

I’ve played it every Christmas Eve since.

When Russell Clark burst through our door, it took my brain a moment to catch on. It was nineteen years ago, and Connor’s parents had come to take him away.

I’d been across the room, giving Olive a gift I’d gotten her so she’d have something to open on Dillon’s birthday. Hayley had told me she was old enough to deal. But she was the baby of the family; I related. Even so, I left her where she was and rushed to Connor, taking a place in front of him, determined to fight his evil parents to the death if need be.

Connor gripped my shoulder from behind and hissed in my ear. “Breathe. He’s not here for me. It’s Moses’s dad.”

For a second, I didn’t understand, and then I felt like a fool. I’d truly been nine years old again for a few moments. I had to glance around the room to reground myself. Sure enough, my brothers and sisters were all grown up. There were nephews and a niece and in-laws. The Kellys weren’t there. It wasn’t Christmas Eve.

I relaxed. No, I didn’t relax, but I finally remembered to breathe. I moved away, taking my place beside Connor instead of in front of him.

Then I saw Moses’s face. Pure, unadulterated terror made him suddenly look so much younger than his seventeen years, but every bit of the terrified giant I remembered from long ago. In that instant, any fleck of resentment at his presence vanished, and my soul pledged loyalty to him as much as it did to Connor.

That was the moment Moses quit being family in name and became blood, became a Bryant.

All of that happened before Russell was halfway into the living room. Then the world went from nearly frozen motion to hyperdrive.

Russell was across the space and inches from Connor. He was big, but not as tall, not even as tall as me. His fury, however, made him seem larger than life, as did his volume. As he screamed, he shoved his finger over and over into Connor’s chest. “How dare you! In the name of God, how dare you! You infect my son’s soul with your evil, with your demons, and now you try to corrupt my other children? I’ll kill you before I let that happen. I swear to God!” He turned to Moses. “And you, isn’t—”

He didn’t finish. Connor sidestepped, putting himself between Russell and Moses. “Back off.”

Russell attempted to move around Connor, but Connor grabbed his upper arm. Russell yanked out of his grasp but quit trying to get to Moses. “Don’t touch me, faggot.”

I recoiled, and from my periphery, I noticed several other members of my family having similar reactions. Connor didn’t even flinch. “What’s your problem, Russell? The courts decided. It’s done. It’s the law. What’s the point of doing anything now?”

Russell didn’t back down. “There’s a higher law. And now it’s not just Moses. You’re coming after the rest of my family.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve not had a lick of contact with your family. I never have. I left you people and never looked back.”

“Of course vulgar words pour out of you like nothing.” Russell sneered. “And you what? Thought that we people were too stupid to find out about that vile thing you call a youth center you’re planning to build? Less than five miles from my home! From my church! From my children and grandchildren!” He began punctuating his words with his finger once again. Connor did nothing to stop him.

As Russell screamed, the rest of the family gathered, making a cluster at Connor’s and my back, surrounding Moses. I noticed Hayley holding Olive in her arms. Even in that instant, I wondered if she’d been taken back all those years as well and knew it didn’t make it any less terrifying to be hidden away in another room.

“Quit touching my boy.” Mom stepped beside Connor and pushed at Russell’s arm. He didn’t budge, but he was distracted enough to let his hand fall away from Connor. “And if you have a problem, talk to me. I’m the one who planned the youth center.”

He glared at her, nearly as much hate in his eyes for her as for Connor. “Not enough to corrupt the youth in this town of Sodom and Gomorrah? Have to come after my family, my community?”

She held her ground and lifted her chin. “Never enough. As long as there is scum like you laying hands on innocent children and telling them they’re going to hell, then no. It will never be enough. And if any other of your children or grandchildren are gay, they’re more than welcome in my home.”

“Don’t you dare threaten my—” He’d lifted his hand like he was going to strike her, and the entire family seemed to lurch forward, but none of us were needed.

Connor’s hand shot out and grasped Russell’s forearm, holding him still. I’d heard Connor angry many times over the years, but his voice had never caused me fear. It did then. “If you touch her, I will kill you, and I promise you, though you might be too weak to carry through on your threat, I mean mine.”

For just a flash, I saw fear cross Russell’s face, but then it was gone. He angled so he could peer around Connor’s shoulder. “Moses, get your faggot ass out here. At least pretend to be a man instead of hiding behind some old woman’s skirt.”

Without thinking, I reached out and grasped Moses’s hand. He held on so tightly it hurt.

Connor sidestepped once more. “That’s not going to be any smarter than threatening my mom.”

“He’s my damn kid.”

“Not anymore he’s not.” Dad’s voice rang out at my back, I hadn’t noticed he was the one there. “Want me to get the paperwork to refresh your memory?”

“Like I care what a court says.” Russell attempted to reach past Connor and grab Moses.

Connor shoved him, hard. Russell stumbled backward, nearly caught himself, but then his foot slipped on a scrap of discarded gift-wrap and he fell, crashing hard on his ass.

Lacy spoke up before Russell could stand. “Try to touch Moses again, and we’ll make another call to social services.”

Walden’s voice joined hers. “And I happen to be recording all of this.” He held up his cell. “Wanna repeat how you don’t care about the law? Remind the court and social services they need to keep a close eye on your entire family?”

Russell stood, but it was clear he was backing down. That threat meant more to him than Connor promising to kill him. I couldn’t imagine how he’d gotten off without jail time with the reports that had been filed over Moses, but it seemed he wasn’t sure he could do it a second time. Even so, he tried again. “He’s still my son. Even if he’s a….” He grimaced. “He belongs to me. You’re endangering his soul. I’ll call the cops and—”

Gilbert’s unmistakable laugh cut through his threat. Bright and laced with a disdain only Gilbert could capture. “You’ll what? Who and what do you think you are, Russell? Better yet, who do you think we are? We’re the Bryants, and as much as you think that God of yours hung the moon, I can promise we’ve got more money than that fucker. Hell, I made over seventy grand last month. How many years would that take you?”

Gilbert hardly made that every month. He’d been working on a piece of jewelry for some movie star for nearly half a year, but leave it to Gilbert to milk it.

“And that’s just me. You go ahead and call those cops. My sister and husband might play nice and just call social services on your ass, but I can promise you, I’ll use every one of my many, many dollars and come after you. Until you don’t have a roof over your head, a floor under your feet, or a fucking bag to pass around your church to scrape money from all the sickos who come to hear your filth.”

The anger Russell had shown before was nothing compared to the hatred that poured from his eyes, from every fiber of his being. He opened his mouth, moving it, though no words came.

Gilbert continued to taunt. “What is it, Russell? Tell us what you’re gonna do.”

Russell stood there, trembling. A tear ran down his cheek. I doubted it was from fear or hurt, probably the only expression of the powerlessness he’d been left with. Wherever it came from, it broke the spell. He wiped it away, glaring at his damp fingers in disgust, then whirled and ran from the house.

We all stood there, frozen. In shock and disbelief. Half expecting him to appear in the doorway he’d left open to the night.

Then Connor turned, and only then did I see the tears streaming down his cheeks. Instinctively I started to reach for him, but before I could move, he wrapped his huge arms around Moses, crushing the boy to him. And for once, I didn’t feel even the slightest twinge of resentment.

Moses whispered something, but it was garbled.

“What?” Connor pulled back but only slightly.

“I’m sorry.” Moses kept his gaze on the floor, but his cheeks were streaked with tears too. “I couldn’t move. I couldn’t say anything. I just… like a coward… and all of you….” His words were lost as Connor pulled him into another suffocating embrace.

“None of that. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. Not a thing. This is how a family works.” Connor’s bloodshot gaze found mine. “We’re family. Nothing comes between us. Nothing.”