“I do, but the only in I have on that info is going to be Charm.” He sighs, running his hand up and down my arm.
“Have you talked to him one-on-one?”
“No. Another thing I think they’re all doing on purpose—making sure I can’t get him alone. It makes me feel like Charm is a prisoner.”
“Well, maybe he is.”
He turns to peer at me. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe they know he’s not on board, and given a chance to escape the situation, he will.”
“You think?” Echo asks.
The hope in his voice makes my heart ache. “It’s possible. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but if you could be completely different from Mouth, maybe he is, too.”
“Then why is he standing with him?” He props up on an elbow.
“Fear. Because he’s comfortable in his situation and feels like he has no one else.”
“I’m right here, though!” Echo exclaims.
“You made up your mind to step away from your father, whatever the risk, and he’s wronged you personally. Charm has never experienced that. He’s in a different place, relationship wise.”
Echo sighs. “So, what do I need to do?”
“Are you asking me the old lady, or me the psychologist?”
“Both.”
“Be there for him, don’t pressure or offer up ultimatums. Treat him the same way you did before. He needs to feel like he can trust you, or he’ll never open up. Try to get him alone in an organic way and let him lead the conversation.”
“So be a chump?” Echo asks with a roll of his eyes.
“No, be a big brother and a friend. Too many times, we try to force our will onto others and make them be who we want them to be, rather than taking them as is. You attract more bees with honey than vinegar.”
“It’s so easy to say when you’re not in it.”
“Don’t kill the messenger, babe. You asked for my personal opinion. Be grateful. I make it a rule not to diagnosis anyone, or for anyone I’m close to.”
“You’re right. I hate the mess my family has become. Tell me something…why do you think my father is the way he is?”
“Hard to say. It could be something that was transferred to him from his own family, situational, where he placed blame on them for something, or a form of self-hate reflected outward.”
“Wait, self-hate reflected. What do you mean?” he asks.
“Like people who have homosexual tendencies hating others who identify as homosexual, because they hate that part of themselves.”
“Are you suggesting that he might actually like black people? Black women?”
“Maybe, back then it was not something you did. It would’ve put him in direct conflict with his club, and the majority of society. Maybe he went to extremes to suppress his true inclinations. Now, I’m just making suggestions. People are complex and individual. Their stories are all different. Have you ever asked him?”
“No. He’s not exactly the type who likes to be questioned.”
“Shocker,” I say.
“Yeah, I know.” He rolls over and I squeal as I end up lying on his chest. “Enough about him. I’m not done with you yet.” He captures my lips and all talk of Mouth and KOC is chased from my brain.
Echo