Jesse gives me a long look, as if trying to read my face.
Good luck with that, buddy. I can’t even read myself.
“You’re a good guy, Ocean,” he finally says.
“No, I’m not,” I say truthfully. If only he knew… “But he seems to be. And he needs to rest and get better. He deserves that chance. Where would we be if Zane and Rafe hadn’t taken us in?”
Jesse grunts in agreement. “He does deserve it. He took care of me so many times. He looks young, but he’s my age. He’s been on the streets for a long time.”
Hard to imagine. The few months I spent homeless was a fucking nightmare. “Sorry to hear it.”
“He’s too proud to let me help. But that’s gonna change, I swear it. Now I can give something back, and I just fucking wish I’d done it sooner. This...”
His voice cracks, and Jesus Christ, what he said echoes my thoughts about my brother.
“Hey.” I bump his shoulder with my fist. “You couldn’t know he’d get worse. And it’s not like you didn’t try to help. You brought him here. And you’re only just getting your feet under you, with your job at Damage Control and your girl. Let him stay over the weekend. Then he can make up his mind. Like you said, he’s an adult. He can make his own decisions.”
And now I sound like a hypocrite. Because if this was true, then Raine also has that ability and that right, and I should stop calling him, like he asked.
Am I so selfish? Is this only about me? Why do I have this wild fear that if something happens to Mom, something fucking irrevocable, and Raine doesn’t see her first, he’ll blame me for it, too?
Like it will make any difference. He refuses to see me anyway. And it’s not like I know what’s wrong with her. I just know she’s getting worse, and that’s something, considering she’s never had it all together. It’s not just her mind that’s going. It’s how frail she seems, how weak—
“I’ll let you catch a few Zs,” Jesse says, clapping me on the back, and I’m so tired I barely feel the sting where the bruises darken my skin. “He seems quiet now. Call me if it changes, if you need anything.”
What I need isn’t something he can give me. What I need is a sure foothold in a life that seems to be slipping away—my parents, my brother, my sanity.
I’m just tired. That’s it. That’s why I can’t see an end to this twisting path.
So I nod. “Will do. Go back to your girl. Grab some sleep. I’ll cancel my appointments at Damage and stay here with him.”
“The hell you will. I’ll cancel mine.”
“It’s okay.” I wave a dismissive hand at him. “I only have two today, and they’re regulars. They won’t mind putting it off.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you big time.” He gets up but hesitates, and I resist the urge to push him out the door. I’m having some trouble ke
eping up my end of the conversation at this point.
Dream images again flash in front of my eyes—the filthy interior of the trailer and Raine, so young he can’t reach the door handle, dark curls tousled, cars in all the colors of the rainbow lined up for a race, my mom staring off into space, her gaze blank.
A bang jerks me out of my trance. It takes me a moment to realize it’s the sound of the door of the apartment slamming shut. Jesse is gone.
Shit. Scrubbing a hand over my face and gritty eyes, I check on Jason, who seems to be in deep sleep.
Good. At least one of us is getting some rest, I think, and instantly feel like a prick for begrudging him that after seeing him so sick.
Dammit, Ocean. Get your shit together.
I settle in the only chair of the room and fold my arms over my chest. I’m afraid that if I lie down in my bed and allow my eyes to close, I won’t hear anything short of a bomb going off in the next room.
My sleep is normally very light, because keeping vigil is second nature to me. I’ve watched over Raine, over my mom, over the trailer since I can remember as my old man disappeared for days on end to feed his addiction and spend every penny we had.
But there’s only so much a body can take, and mine is reeling after days with almost no sleep, and the worry about my mom is taking its toll.
She won’t answer the phone. Why won’t she answer the phone? It’s been days since my visit, and I need to go see her. See them. Tomorrow. Make sure they’re still breathing, that there’s food in the fridge and that nothing too bad has happened—an overdose, a stabbing over a gambling fight, a robbery that ended in bloodshed.
I’ve seen lots of dark things in the trailer park as a kid, things I tried to protect Raine from. I didn’t always manage.