Page 189 of Five Brothers

“I don’t … I …” I stammer.

“What?” He bares his teeth, pushing away from me. “I don’t know how to do this. What do you want from me?”

“I just don’t want you to leave,” I burst out.

He’s trying to act in a way he thinks normal people do. Drinking, working, sex, because he still can’t let them know that he’s in pain.

“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” I search his eyes. “You don’t want her. You don’t want to fuck around in that bar all night.”

Maybe ten years ago, but not anymore.

He inches toward me again, his expression pained. “You don’tknow what I want,” he whispers, swallowing hard. “Krisjen, I can’t tell you the things I think about sometimes.”

My chin trembles. I’m scared.

But I do know him.

Taking him by the back of the neck, I draw him in, his eyes cast down and refusing to look at me.

“There are so many people who I don’t see,” I tell him. “My mom and dad. Milo. Trace. No matter how I try to slow down and see them, I can’t.” I take a washcloth off the rack and run the cold water over it, wringing out the excess. “I keep reaching for something I know is there, but I can’t grab it. Like they’re not real. No different than any stranger passing me by, and I just keep walking.”

I place the ice-cold cloth on the back of his neck, feeling him exhale.

“But I see you. Even when I close my eyes, I see you.”

He looks up at me, and I jerk my chin to the restaurant and Bay beyond us. “You take care of them,” I tell him. “I take care of you. End of story.”

He holds my gaze for several seconds, finally closing his eyes and leaning in. Pressing a hand into the microwave behind me again, and the other on the counter at my side, he almost brushes my nose with his. His warm breath falls across my lips.

I press the cloth into his skin, running my other hand over his neck and face.

And everything else in the world quiets as he leans into it. All I can see is him, and all he can see is me.

“Until someone else comes along …” I tell him.

He nods.

24

Macon

Army’s going to want her back. He’s been quiet about her sleeping in my room because he knows something’s going on with me, but he still wants her. He makes sure I see every time she lets him touch her.

I blow out a breath, bowing my head under the hot spray of the shower. The scent of the candle burning on the sink fills the bathroom, mixing with magnolias breezing in through the window above my head. An image of me racing my first motorcycle down the coast hits me, the sun shining on my face. Girls in swimsuits on the beach. A red sail far out on the water.

I forgot about that.

The scent reminds me of it, though. I’m not sure why.

That was a good day. I was seventeen, I think. Freedom.

Krisjen says she just likes firelight, but I know something that smells like eucalyptus is something people use for stress, and she’s doing it for my benefit. She burns other things that smell like spearmint and citrus, and she plays music a lot and keeps the windows open, so fresh air can travel through the house. Aromatherapy bullshit like it’s going to fix me, but …

It stirs up memories, all of them nice. At any moment, I feeltwelve, sneaking out with Army and Iron to climb trees at midnight.

And the house does feel better. It breathes again. I like coming home, and even my brothers seem happier. They’re taking care of shit—Trace finally put the lawn mower away—but I don’t know if I’m happy that they’re stepping up. They’re doing it because they’re worried about me.

I don’t want them to act like I’m not strong.