“You’re a good guy, Mike,” he says, patting my chest as he leans into me.

“When you’re not drunk, we’re gonna sit down and have a talk,” I tell him, walking up to the front door and pulling out my key.

“Fuck, you have a key. It is serious,” he says, his body almost pulling me down with him.

As I unlock the door and push it open, he leans over and vomits all over the porch. I hold him up, trying to help him over to the grass. The poor kid is going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, and cleaning up puke isn’t going to help.

“Mike? Brandon?”

I turn slightly to look at Kat, who is standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a robe.

“What’s going on? Oh my God. Is he drunk?” she asks, starting to step outside.

I turn towards her, taking one hand off Brandon, placing it in her stomach, and pushing her back inside. “He got sick out here, baby,” I tell her, and she nods, looking at her son.

“I thought that, when we moved, you wouldn’t do this anymore, Brandon,” she says.

I can see the worry in her eyes, and I understand it, but I also understand why her son is acting out right now. Brandon stands up and leans his body weight completely on me.

“Let’s get him into bed. Tomorrow, we’re all gonna sit down and have a talk,” I tell her.

She looks ever more worried. The urge to comfort her almost strangles me, but I need to deal with her son first. Then I can talk to her and hopefully make her understand what’s going on and what this kid really needs. She can’t continue to act like his behavior is normal. It’s not fair to her son or her. Without saying anything else, I follow her into the house and up the stairs towards Brandon’s room.

“You want to shower or you want to sleep?” I ask Brandon, who is now moving more quickly to his room.

He lifts his head slightly and looks at me. “I just want to sleep,” he mutters, falling back onto his bed.

I find his garbage can and put it next to him. Then I make sure that he’s on his side before I pull his shoes off and cover him up. Kat comes in with a cup full of green liquid and holds it to his mouth. He rinses his mouth then leans over to spit in the trash can before lying back again.

“I love you, Mom,” he says, closing his eyes.

Kat sits down next to him on the bed, pushing his hair away from his forehead and pressing a kiss there, muttering, “I know you do,” softly before pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

I see her body sag. I step towards her, putting a hand to her back.

“This is not okay, Brandon. I love you more than life, but this is not okay.” The pain in her voice is obvious and I know she’s close to tears.

Brandon’s eyes open and he looks at his mom. The look in his eyes is so bleak that I want to track down his father and kill him for doing that to his son and the woman he was supposed to love.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and I don’t even know if he knows what he’s apologizing for.

“We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m going to leave your door open so I can hear you if you need me,” she tells him, leaning in again and kissing is forehead.

We both head out of his room then down the stairs. I pull off my jacket and toss it onto one of the chairs in the living room before going to the kitchen and grabbing a beer.

Chapter 6

MIKE

“So what happened?” Kat asks.

I turn to face her and see that she has her arms wrapped around her waist and her eyes have become full of worry. “James called me and told me that Brandon asked him to call me to come pick him up after he was arrested.”

“Why didn’t he call me?”

“I think he was hoping that he wouldn’t get in trouble if he called me.”

“What?” she whispers.

“Baby,” I say softly, running a finger down her cheek. “I’m your boyfriend. My guess is he thought I would pick him up and ease the blow with you to try and get on his good side.”

“He used to do this before we moved. This was one of the reasons we moved to begin with. He was always hanging out with the wrong crowd. He would come home late or not at all. Sometimes, he would show up drunk or high. I tried to talk to him, but nothing was working. Then I decided to move here. I loved growing up here and figured that it was probably a safe place to raise my son.”

She takes a deep breath, letting her hands drop to her side. “When we first moved into town, he was okay. He was doing good in school and not giving me any problems. Then, a few months ago, right after his birthday, something happened and he stopped listening. He started getting angry easier and our relationship, which had started to repair, went downhill fast.” She looks away when I see tears begin to fill her eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. I don’t understand why he’s so angry. I don’t know why he’s mad at me or how to help him.”

“I think that whatever happened has to do with his dad more than it has to do with you,” I say, and her eyes come back to me. “Did you know that his dad told him that he couldn’t take him on a graduation trip because his girlfriend’s kid needs braces?” I ask, watching her body still and her face contort with anger.

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“He did.”

“That dick.”

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