ashley
34 YEARS OLD
Iwanted more than anything to be a hero for my brother and sister. One out of two isn’t so bad, is it? Zuri turned out to be a strong and independent woman. Then again, I don’t think I can take credit for that. She was born to not only be a survivor but a leader. At least she doesn’t hate me like our other sibling does.
Despite what she says, I now worry that Serenity will look at me with disappointment after she sees what’s become of her summer fling. Will she view me as heartless to stand by and allow my brother to suffer? To not help pick up the pieces? Worse, will she fall victim to Adam’s charms and rush to try and save him? That was Fran’s biggest concern. She told me once that it was better her niece hates her and stays away than witnesses her deterioration and Adam’s path to self-destruction and substance abuse. Fran never wanted to hurt Serenity. But she saw an opportunity to cut ties and protect her from the ugliness of her disease, and she’d seen enough girls get into trouble over Adam.
I pull my truck in front of the run-down house. There are a few dogs running around, an overturned recliner, a few lawn chairs, and a smoke pit in the front of the yard. No more than a second after I turn the key and cut the engine, the screen door flies open. There stands Adam.
He’s shirtless, barefoot, and his jeans hang low on his hip bones, because he’s too thin. His hair is greasy and shaggy. What were once pearly white teeth are now stained yellow and gray, as his lips curl to snarl at me.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he calls out as he saunters out onto the rickety porch.
His eyes widen in surprise as Serenity exits the truck. “Hello, Adam.”
Adam releases a cruel, humorless laugh. “What’s this shit? You brought her out here so she could see me and make yourself look better?”
“I came because I wanted to see you,” she responds.
“Still holding a special place for me, Sugar? Guess it’s true what they say, you never forget your first.” Adam has the nerve to appear proud. His bony chest puffs up as he goes to wrap Serenity in a hug.
Climbing out of my truck, I’m immediately hit with a foul odor, and I’m not sure if it’s coming from the yard, inside the house, or him. Possibly a combination of all the above. Adam’s eyes are hard as they stare me down. Serenity eases out of his hold and takes two steps back.
“I’d offer you something to drink, but I haven’t had a chance to make it to the store.” Adam gives her a boyish grin. I want to throw up. I gave him money last week to go to the store, but I’m sure he spent it on drugs or liquor instead.
“That’s fine.”
“What brings you back to Sunshine Coast? Missing me? Couldn’t stay away any longer?”
Serenity looks uncomfortable, so I step in. “Fran passed away.”
Adam’s face turns angry as his eyes meet mine. “Why the fuck are you just now telling me?”
I’m too exhausted already to argue with him. I did tell him. I told him as soon as it happened. Then I tried calling and looking for him the day before the funeral to see if he needed a ride. He knew. But now he wants to play it off and, once again, it’s my fault.
“Hey, calm down. Everything is fine,” Serenity tries to keep him from escalating.
“No. It’s really not fine. I’m always the last to know. Kind of like how he was the first to know you left. And why was that?” I can’t believe this shit. He’s really going to rehash that.
“Really, Adam?” Serenity scowls at him. “You’re really going to go there?”
“Why not? He snuck off with you, and then you disappeared. Left me brokenhearted. I never got over you. Now look at me.”
I move to stand in front of him, blocking his view of Serenity. “That’s enough. Stop blaming everyone for all your problems. Stop playing the fucking victim and grow up. She came out here to see you, not to play into your pity party.” I turn my back to him and then take Serenity’s hand. Enough of his toxic bullshit. “Let’s go.”
As I’m walking back to my truck, Adam calls out to me. I walk back over to him while Serenity gets inside the truck. He leans close to me and whispers, “Hey, man. I’m sorry.”
“Whatever.”
“Listen, I wasn’t lying earlier. I don’t have shit to eat or drink.”
I pull out my wallet and shove a couple of bills into his outstretched hand. Then I walk back to my truck, knowing that I’m still not helping him. I’m only enabling him. He hates me for it, but not as much as I hate myself.