Jax

Bending down, I put Sam on her feet in the living room of our parents’ house. It’s eerily quiet, and I’m not sure if I’m relived or uneasy.

Sam fists my shirt, keeping me from standing. “Don’t go,” she whimpers.

My heart cracks at her words. I mash my lips together as I hug her against my chest. I wish I could give her every second of my time.

I run a hand through her long brown hair. “It’s gonna be okay. You can call me whenever you need me, and I’ll be here.” I’ll drop whatever I’m doing and be at her side faster than a tornado passing through a desert. “Mom isn’t here. Dad will take care of you; I promise.”

I kiss her cheek and pry her grip from my shirt. I hold her small hand in mine and watch as her lower lip trembles. My throat tightens, and I swallow down the ball of emotions threatening to spill over because I need to be strong for her.

“You have to be a big girl, Sam. You need to sleep in your own bed tonight.” Tears pool in her eyes, and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to haul her out the front door. But where would I take her?

We stayed at Raegan’s house for two nights, and there’s no way I would ever take her to my place. I love the guys, but I don’t trust them around my baby sister.

“I’ll tell you what, you can call me every day after pre-school and tell me what you learned.” I’d listen to her ramble about nothing at all just to know she’s happy. “Next weekend, I’ll pick you up, and we can do whatever you want, but you have to be strong. No crying.” I wipe away the lone tear falling down her face.

“Okay,” she whispers as she sucks back her tears and throws her arms around my neck.

I hold her tight as I squeeze my eyes shut, making her feel as safe as I can. A throat clears behind Sam. I look up and see Dad standing over us, his shoulders slouched and arms hanging at his sides.

Sam removes her arms from around me and turns to Dad. She stands between us like she’s unsure if she should run to him. I nudge her in the back, and she walks up to him, outstretching her arms.

His lips tip up in a smile as he bends down and picks her up. She lays her head on his chest as he cradles her against him.

“Where’s Mom?” I ask, standing up straight.

He shakes his head. “Want to go play miniature golf, Sam?”

She lifts her head, her eyes wide with excitement. “Right now?”

“Absolutely.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he beams at her.

She hugs him, her arms holding him tight. “Yes, I wanna go.”

He places her on her feet. “Go put on some clean clothes, and we can go.”

“Okay.” She grins as she runs toward the stairs.

Dad leans against the back of the couch. His gray eyes are heavy, like he hasn’t slept since I walked out of the house with Sam two days ago.

I wonder if he’s strong enough to do this on his own.

When I was younger, I could always depend on him. That’s the dad Sam needs.

“So, where’s Mom?” I stand across from him, shoving my hands in my jean pockets.

“Your mom has an apartment ten minutes from here. I spent the last two days moving her out.” He runs a hand through his hair and grips the back of his neck.

“Is she coming back?” I search his eyes. “Are you going to let her see Sam?”

“Not until she’s on medication,” he reassures me, his eyes holding mine.

I watch him stand taller than he has in years.

I believe him. He won’t let Mom hurt Sam anymore. This is the dad I remember, a protector, someone he hasn’t been in a long time.

I blow out a breath, a small sense of relief settling over me. The tight feeling in chest that has been there since Sam was born lessens, and the knot in my stomach loosens.

“It’s going to be better, Jax, and I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took so long for me to pull my head out of my ass. Sam is the most important person in the world to me, as are you. Your mom and I let you both down.”

I scan his face as disbelief clouds my mind. I’ve never heard him or Mom take responsibility for their fighting. I’m more than stunned to hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ come out of his mouth.

I’m sure he’s dealt with more than I can imagine where Mom is concerned, and I never showed an ounce of remorse.

“All I want is for Sam to be taken care of and have what she deserves,” I say.

I shift on my feet, staring at the ground. I need answers, and while Dad might not be able to give me all of them, I know he can provide me with some insight.

I look back at him as he drops his hand from his neck. “What’s wrong with Mom? I mean…I know you said she’s bipolar, but I…I don’t understand.” I bite the inside of my cheek.

I don’t remember the last time I really talked to him, but I figure it’s better to ask him instead of the internet. Maybe this is something that will bring us together after drifting apart for so long.

He pushes off the couch, looking directly at me. “Everyone’s symptoms are different. Some people are extremely happy and feel like they can do anything, while others can experience feelings of rage and paranoia,” he explains. “Their emotions can often switch without any warning. Honestly, there’s a long list of traits, but your mom was aggressive, as you know, and would go days without sleep.”

I feel like it’s selfish of me to wish she had a high for life instead of being volatile toward everyone around her. It would have made things easier, especially for Dad. He took the brunt of her actions.

My stomach churns as I think about what a dick I was to him and Mom. I didn’t bother to ask questions. I saw what I wanted to and judged them without knowing the whole story. I’m such an asshole.

Dad’s eyes search my face. “She couldn’t control it, Jax, and for the longest time, she was in denial. I convinced her to see a therapist, and she was put on medication, but she hated it.”

I blink several times. “Why?”

He glances sideways before bringing his gaze back to me. “You know the feeling you have in the morning when you just wake up?”

I nod. “Groggy.”

“Yes. Your mind is muddled because you’re trying to pull yourself out of sleep. It’s like that, but it also made your mom feel numb. She didn’t feel happy, sad, or angry.” He lifts his hand and drops it to my shoulder. “I want you to know she tried; we both did.” His eyes shine, tears threatening to spill over. “She’s going to get the help she needs. She knows she can’t keep living this way.”

The bags under Mom’s eyes and the hollow appearance in her face make sense now. I felt like whenever I was around her she was on the verge of ripping my head off, and I never knew why. But I get it now.

My chest aches as guilt gnaws at me. Mom needed help, and I didn’t offer her anything except my hatred.

Pulling my hands out of my pockets, I step forward and wrap my arms around Dad, hugging him for the first time in years. “We’re all going to make it through this, and hopefully, everything will be better.”

He claps me on the back, and a strangled noise comes from the back of his throat.

This is the turning point in our lives. Everything is heading in the right direction; we’re moving forward. I feel like we’re finally getting to the end of the dark tunnel we’ve been trying to escape for too long.

“I’m here if you ever need help,” I whisper.

“I’m holding you to that.”

“Don’t forget about me,” Sam chimes in, tugging at my jeans.

I smile as I back away from Dad and pick her up off the floor.

“Never would, Munchkin.”

She wraps her arms around me as she stares up at me. “Can you come golfing, too?”

I purse lips as I look up at the ceiling. “Hmm.”

“Pleeassee,” she begs.

“I think I can carve time out of one more night for you.”

She bounces in my hold, her legs hitting my abdomen.

“I’m kind of hungry. Do you want to eat, Sam?” Dad asks, taking two steps toward us.

She bobs her head, her brows meeting her hairline.

“Good because I want a Sam sandwich.” He engulfs us both in a hug, and Sam squeals as we hold her between us. She giggles, her face bright and grin wide.

This is what I want her to remember. The laughter and smiles she has in this house, nothing else.

Dad takes Sam from me and walks out the front door, and I trail behind them.

When I’m standing next to his car, I turn around and stare at the home I hated for so long. It’s different, yet entirely the same.

And it feels like I can finally breathe again.

“Remind me why I let you tag along again?” I ask Graham as I walk up Raegan’s driveway.

He scoffs. “I provide a good distraction.”

“I’d say you’re more of a nuisance.” I knock on the front door and lean against the doorjamb, waiting for Arya to let us in.

I’m not entirely sure how she’ll react when she notices Graham next to me.

“Fine, you want to know the truth?” He crosses his arms. “Arya is ignoring me.”

I bust out laughing, a droplet of spit hitting the cement as I bend over at the waist.

“Dude, shut up.” He whacks me on the back of the head. “You’re a goner for Raegan. You have no room to judge me.”

I inhale, filling my lungs with the fresh air before exhaling. “You’re right, but you gave me so much shit about it.”

The door flies open with Arya on the other side, a hand on her hip and one of her brows raised. “Shit about what?”

I laugh again, throwing my head back.

“What’s with him?” she asks.

“Don’t ask,” Graham mumbles.

We both step in the house. I stop at the couch and pet Stella as she jumps on the cushion.

I watch Graham out of the corner of my eye, his gaze glued to Arya as she ties her brown hair on top of her head.

She stalks past him, shoving him in the shoulder as she wanders into the kitchen.

“She’s you with boobs, man.” I walk backwards, following in Arya’s direction. “Good luck.”

He scrunches his face. “I don’t need luck.”

“Whatever you say.” I chuckle and turn away from him.

I slip my hand in my pocket and take out the folded piece of paper as I stand next to Arya. I open the note and read over my handwriting. It’s pretty straight forward, but I didn’t want to mess anything up, not with this.

“It says we need flour, water, and salt.” I wince as Arya slams a cabinet.

She shrugs. “Slipped.” She thrusts a purple mixing bowl in my chest. “I already made it. Throw that sad piece of paper away.” She grabs aluminum foil off the counter and taps it against her leg.

“How did you know how to make it?” I stare down at the bowl, the dough appearing dry.

“I’m that good.” She pats my shoulder. “What’s with the third wheel?” She jerks her head over my shoulder.

“Don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me,” Graham says from behind me. “Do you want to come clean my room again? Or I can do yours.”

She narrows her eyes at him and shoves past both of us. “Jax, hurry up so the fly you brought with you can go back home.”

“Can’t you act normal for once?” I sigh, shaking my head at him

“Normal is nowhere near as much fun as I am.”

“Just don’t be such a jackass.” I move around him and in the direction of Arya.

I plop on the floor across from her and drop the bowl between us.

She smooths out a piece of aluminum foil, making it lay flat on the carpet. I grab a handful of the cracked dough and roll it in a ball. When I’m done, I place it on the foil and flatten it before I turn it over.

Arya does the same, adding a second piece of flat dough next to mine.

“Why’d you make so much?” I ask, staring at the container that’s still half full.

She peeks in the purple bowl. “Whoops. I’ve never done this before. I didn’t know we’d have this much left.”

Graham sits on the floor next to Arya. “What are you guys doing anyway? Shouldn’t you be cooking in the kitchen, not on the living room floor?”

“It’s a secret,” Arya says as she pushes to her feet.

“I can keep a secret.”

I didn’t tell Graham why I was coming over here, only that I would be back. He, for some reason, insisted on tagging along, but I should have known why he wanted to come when he hopped in my truck.

Arya challenges him, and he’s not used to that. Hell, I wasn’t used to it either, until Raegan.

Arya taps her chin. “Let’s test that, shall we?” Graham smiles, sitting up straight. “What did we do after we went trick-or-treating with Sam, Jax, and Raegan?”

“We went back to my place.”

“And?” she crosses her arms.

His brows furrow as he looks up at her. “I pulled your foot out of the toilet.”

I howl in laughter and slap my hand on the carpet. Tears sting my eyes as I take a deep breath. I laugh without making a single noise.

“See?” Arya points at him. “You can’t keep a secret!”

Graham’s foot connects with my shin as I attempt to calm myself down. “How was I supposed to know you didn’t want me to tell anyone?”

“I told you not to.” She throws her hands in the air.

“I didn’t think it was that big a deal. I mean so what, you got your foot stuck in a toilet. There are worse things.”

“Like when you had a pumpkin stuck on your head,” I remind Graham.

He narrows his eyes. “I meant to do that.”

“Did you also mean to throw up while it was stuck?” The Halloween party last year got completely out of control.

Graham was so drunk he thought it would be funny to stick his head in a carved pumpkin. Guess he didn’t realize how big his head was. I don’t know if it was all the alcohol he drank or the smell of the pumpkin, but he threw up with the damn thing on his head.

When the cops broke up the party, Luke and I had to do a lot of explaining when they saw us taking hedge clippers to Graham’s face.

He grumbles under his breath as Arya stomps up the stairs.

“Why was her foot in your toilet?” I can only imagine how disgusting the bowl was. If I was Arya, I would have spent hours disinfecting myself.

Then again, maybe she scrubbed his bathroom when she cleaned his room.

“She said she was trying to put down the seat. She didn’t want to touch it with her hand, so she used her foot.” He rolls his eyes. “Didn’t work out too well for her.”

Arya comes bounding down the steps. “I heard that,” she announces, her voice echoing in the stairwell.

Graham scrubs a hand down his face.

I reach over and slap his shoulder. I have a feeling if things work out with Arya, he’ll never win another argument in his life.

Arya sits across from me with a squirming Stella in her arms.

I rub her head and ears as she scratches my forearm, trying to pull me closer.

“Now you’ll never know what we’re doing.” She sticks out her tongue at him as he leans back on his hands, his eyes glued to the girl next to him.