No Saint (Wild Men 6)

“Again with him?” He even points an accusing finger at me, all teenage outrage and testosterone. “What will it take for you to realize what a snake he is?”

“Knock it off, Josh. He’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?”

“Look... I don’t want to fight with you.” I play my trump card. “I thought you’d missed me these years I was away.”

I see the struggle on his face, the line of his shoulders. Josh is a good kid, and he loves me.

“I’m sorry I left,” I whisper. “I missed you, too. And if I go away again, it won’t be because of Ross, okay? I’m stronger now.”

He deflates. There it is, the same light I saw in Ross’s eyes, that spark of hope—and he nods carefully. “I just don’t like you being with him,” he says. “No matter whether he’s changed or not, he hurt you.”

“I know. God, I know. But I hurt you, too. we sometimes hurt people because we are hurt in our turn and need to lash out. You get that, right? I will be careful with Ross,” I allow, because no reason to tell my little brother that I’ve given my heart and soul away already to the one guy he dislikes, “but I stand by what I said: he’s changed. And he needs my help and...”

“And your sex?” Josh mutters, and I almost choke. He rolls his eyes. “I’m not a kid anymore, Luna.”

But he is, to me, and this isn’t a conversation I want to have with him. “That is none of your business.”

So of course he starts singing George Michael’s “I want your sex” off-key, swaying his hips, and I have to chase him around the living room.

Well, at least some things never change.

Until we almost crash into Aunt Emily.

“Now, kids,” she chides, and smiles. “You’re kind of old for this sort of game, aren’t you?”

Josh gets all red in the face, mumbles something about a shower and flees, probably to his room. He doesn’t know Aunt Emily so well, and I’m guessing he doesn’t take well to authority figures other than our dad. He never lived with her, and doesn’t automatically obey as I do.

I sink into one of the armchairs and grimace at her. “So you’re leaving today, huh? Can’t stay a bit longer?”

“Sorry, love.” Her brow creases, then her smile puts lines around her mouth, and on a whim I get up and go sit beside her where she’s lowering herself on the sofa. She’s not that old, just a few years older than Dad, but she has an old air about her. Like she knows things about the world you can only imagine. “You know how my kids get. Can’t wait to have the house to themselves, and then running out of food after a day and a half and wondering if setting the furniture on fire might be fun.”

I laugh. I know my cousins. She’s right. “Will you come to visit again soon?”

“I was hoping you’d come.” She pokes at my ribs with a finger, tickling me. “The brats miss you.”

“I miss you every day, all the time,” Ross’s voice says in my head. “I like being with you. But I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

“I’ll try,” I promise, and give her a quick hug. “You know... you’re like a mom to me, right? More than my mom ever was.”

“Aw, sweetheart, your mom loved you,” she says, and I pull back to blink at her in surprise. “Why do you look so shocked?”

“She left,” I blurt out. “She walked away. What am I supposed to think? What sort of loving mom does that to her kids?”

“Oh hon, she was sick...”

“She wasn’t sick. She was cold, and never cared about us.”

“It may have seemed that way to you, I can see that. She had depression, sweetie, and decided she wasn’t able to function as a good parent and wife. Those were her words.”

“But she never even called!”

“Your dad and her, they don’t talk much. But of course he has her phone number, in case you want to talk to her.”

“Why then...? Nobody told me about this.”

“You were so upset with her, you said you never wanted to talk to her again. And Josh, well... he idolizes you, and always followed your example.”