No Saint (Wild Men 6)

His gray brows knit together in slight reprimand. “Look at you, rushing to his defense. I meant the issue of his dad being a killer, offing his mom and that other woman, and then going after him. It can hardly get worse than that.”

True.

Looks like Dad is keeping an open mind. And Josh is quiet, looking at me with wide eyes.

So I find myself telling my dad and Josh about Ross. It feels a little like breaking his trust, but I need them to see what I see, that he has some good inside.

Or to tell me I’m crazy and should keep away from Ross. Who knows.

Obviously, I edit some parts out of my story, and I feel my face growing warm just thinking about them, but I tell them about the beatings, the drugstore refusing to sell him stuff, the dog, the infection, the fever, the sad cold house by the river.

It all makes me sad all over again.

When I am done, silence spreads in the kitchen. Josh is chewing on something, obviously not happy but waiting to see what Dad will say.

I wait, too.

Finally, Dad says, “You really think he’s changed?”

I start to nod, then end up shrugging. “He’s trying. Or seems to be. In any case, all that’s happening to him isn’t helping him.”

“It sure doesn’t,” Dad agrees. “No matter what mistakes he’s made in the past, he deserves a second chance. Many boys are aggressive in their teenage years but calm down later and become decent people.”

“And you know that, how?”

“I read up on the matter. What, you thought I’d sit back and watch you suffer and not try to act? At least understand why it was happening? You’re my little girl. It broke me apart when you left. And I wanted to break that boy’s face, but I didn’t.”

Josh makes a disgruntled, sulky noise like a deflating balloon. “He’s not a kid. He can take care of himself.”

“Everyone needs help from time to time.” Dad takes off his glasses and places them on the table, beside his phone. “Just... be careful, Luna. He’s hurt you before. I don’t want to see you hurt again. Being kind to others is great as long as it doesn’t harm you.”

“He will harm you,” Josh’s voice is rising. “He’s a bully. That’s who he is.”

“Has he bullied you while I was away?”

He shakes his head and makes a face.

“He is an ex-con who drinks,” Dad says quietly, dispelling the picture I’d made of him being one hundred percent on my side. Ross’s side. “No matter what, I wouldn’t want you to hang around him unless necessary.”

“See?” Josh says. “I was right.”

“But no rock throwing,” Dad mutters, shooting him a disapproving look. “We clear on that, Joshua?”

“Whatever. Can we eat now?”

It seems the conversation is over as far as Joshua is concerned. I glance at Dad who rubs at his eyes and gets up to open the oven.

Awesome. So much for asking for being honest with Dad, for asking for those antibiotics instead of grabbing them. God, the thought of Ross not so far away, lying feverish, all alone, makes me feel sick.

The lasagna is lukewarm, and kind of flat—yeah, I didn’t manage to replicate my aunt’s recipe like I wanted, and God, I miss her. We used to live close to them before we moved to Destiny, right after Mom left. When I was there, I was homesick, and now I’m homesick for her house and my cousins.

They didn’t glare daggers at me like Josh is doing right now across the table. I know he wants to protect me, that he’s angry at Ross. God, maybe Josh is right to be upset with me. If you’d asked me last week if Ross deserved a second chance, I’d laugh in your face. I’d been so sure about everything, so secure in my victim position, my righteous anger. And now this hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, out of nowhere.

How can I expect my little brother to understand what’s going on in my mind when I barely understand it myself?

Chapter Eighteen

Ross