Fall Guy (A Youngblood Book) by Reinhardt, Liz (knowledgeable books to read TXT) π
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Winch 16
My stomach is twisted in knots. My parents are standing in the hallway outside my room, glaring, arms crossed, feet tapping, and the hate and anger they're obviously feeling simmers and pollutes every ounce of space.
"This is unnecessary, son." My father gestures to my nearly empty room. "This is still your home. You wanna strike out on your own? Okay, fine. But you don't just strip your past clean."
I stack the boxes neatly, but I don't feel any energizing hum of defiance or righteous fury. I feel old and sapped. I feel a little like my brother must have when the hospital finally released him, spent and barely able to stand up straight.
When I went with him to sign into the long-term rehab facility, I was pretty sure it was just one last attempt to stall the inevitable, and that he'd check himself out and find the closest bar fast. But he's been there, role-playing and keeping a journal and talking to a whole team of doctors.
Which is why I'm leaving.
I have to if I want my brother to live.
I have to if I want a shot at a real future for myself.
"I think it's time for a clean start, Pop." I pull a long piece of packing tape over the closed flaps of the last box. "Remy needs this."
His eye twitches, and I regret saying the last words.
"Remy need this? How, exactly, do you think it's possible that Remy needs not having his family together, working to get him back on his feet? Or is this going to be where you repeat all that psycho babble those quack doctors are charging me an arm and a leg to throw in my face?"
My dad's voice is so loud, it brings Colt shuffling out of his room.
"Are you leaving today, Winch?" He eyes the boxes and then me. For the first time in a long time, my brother looks at me with something other than disgust; he looks proud.
A few weeks ago, I wouldn't have given a shit if Colt was proud of me or not. Now I'm glad he can look up to me for doing the one thing every Youngblood is trained never to do; walk away from the family.
"Yeah. I'm packing the last of it today, and moving into my apartment.β I turn back to my father. βAnd, what the doctors say? It's not psycho babble," I explain for the hundredth time, even though I should just drop it. I start to lift a box that's a little too big, but, before I rip my back out, Colt swoops in to grab the other end and grins at me. I grin back and look at my parents. "They explained how what we do, what I do specifically, enabled Remy. When he gets out, he's gonna need to be so careful about things. I don't want him to fall back on bad habits."
"How will he get well without us around him?" my mother asks, grabbing at the gold and ruby cross around her neck. She's been going to extra masses for weeks, praying about the whole situation. Sometimes I wonder what, exactly, she's asking God for. Most of the time, I'm glad I don't know.
"He has a support team," I remind her. "And I'm not out of his life forever. Iβm keeping my distance for now. Just until he's back on his feet."
"So you're planning to come back to the family, run things like you did?" My dad's face is so relieved, I feel like a dick smoking holes in his fantasy of us being one big, obedient family again.
"I have my own plans, Pop. I love you all, but it's time I did what I need to do."
Colt picks up three boxes that are probably too heavy for him. "You want me to bring these out for you?"
My little brother has always hated arguments and fights, ever since he was a tiny kid. Lately it's been brawls day in and out around here, and since he sees another one brewing, he's eager to get away from it.
"Thanks, Colt." I watch him leave, then turn my attention back to my parents, who look like they're in mourning when they should be happy. "I'm going to apprentice. That's a good thing. And Remy is getting treatment. That's good, too."
"I don't understand how all this good stuff has to come when you're all so far from this family," my father argues. Mama puts an arm around his waist and presses her cross to her lips.
It's so obvious, I consider not answering him. But I was blindsided by my family for years. It took almost losing my brother and the girl I love to wake me up. Maybe losing me and Remy will be the wake-up call my parents need.
"Because the family isn't working the way it needs to," I explain as patiently as I can. "So we need to separate on some levels. I'm still your son. I still love you."
My father looks at me for a few long beats, and I wonder if any of what happened in the past few weeks is going to sink in for him, going to change him. But he just grimaces and shakes his head. "Yeah, well, you got a real funny way of showing us your love, son. That's for sure."
He and my mother watch silently as Colt and I pack the boxes into the U-Haul I rented. My sisters come out of their rooms just as we're finishing, and we all move to the front room.
So this is it.
I don't feel as good as I imagined I would. A lot has changed in a short amount of time, and I know that there's this time in my life or this place I once had that's gone forever. I'm
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