The team is on a roll. Since I started playing over three weeks ago, we’ve won every game. We may not make it to the championship but we’re gonna try. I take a sip of the beer I’m holding as we sit in George’s living room celebrating the win.

Feeling my pocket vibrate, I pull out my phone and answer the call. “Linc?” My little brother’s voice comes through the other end of the line.

“What’s going on?” I ask him, setting the beer bottle on the table in front of me.

“Richard’s back and I think he and mom are fighting,” he says, his voice cracking. I can tell he’s trying not to cry as he sniffles through the phone.

I get up, walking away from the noise of the party. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the closet,” he tells me. At least he can’t see it. I wish I never had.

I try and school my voice so he doesn’t sense the fear that’s overtaking me. “Good, stay there,” I coach him.

“Aron? I’m scared,” he whispers. That little voice—the voice of a child who’s gone through so much more than anyone his age should, makes me run in the direction of my car. I should’ve stayed home. I hate myself for not seeing this happen. Then again, I thought this time she had changed.

“It’s okay, buddy; just stay in the closet.” I try to push down the anger, fighting the tears that threaten to spill.

I can’t believe this is happening again.

“They’re screaming now,” he tells me. As he narrates each horrible scene, I wish nothing more than to shield him from all of this mess.

“What did you do after the game?” I ask, trying to distract him.

“Mom and I watched Toy Story 2,” he says. He pauses then adds, “Something just broke.” I take off running toward my car. I’m bumping into people as I move through the crowd, but I don’t care. I have to get to my little brother.

“Listen to me, okay? Just stay in the closet and think about what happened in Toy Story. Can you tell me what happened in the movie?”

He starts to tell me his favorite scene as I pry open the driver’s side door and get in. I twist the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life. Shifting the car into gear, I peel out of the driveway.

I have one focus—to protect Ethan.

And nothing and no one will stand in my way.

Not anymore.

I run every red light, knowing it’s not safe, knowing I’m risking not just my life, but others as well.

But I don’t care.

I shielded Ethan from as much of this as I could. I’ve lived my life as his bodyguard, preventing him from seeing the way our mother has been throwing her life away by depending on drugs and making them her most important relationship.

At least he got to see the good side of Mom—the doting and caring mother that made him breakfast and packed him snacks for school.

I got the one who walked through the doors every other day with tears in her eyes, promising she’ll change after she’s given in to the vice once again. I got the version that promised me she’d sober up and return to being the mother I once knew—I guess it didn’t stick.

I take a sharp left onto my street, driving as quickly as I can. The sounds around me are muffled as I let my need to get to Ethan fuel me.

She said things between her and that bastard were over.

She was getting clean. She was trying to find a job, trying to be a better person.

She promised me.

She lied.