It’s hard to believe that was my brother they were talking about. He was always the good guy, mister popular, loved by all. At first, it was hard to believe they were serious, but when you hear the same sorry tale repeated over and over, it’s hard to keep denying it.
“Some said they even set up job interviews for you, but then you never showed up . Even Chase, who loves you like a brother, is done with you until you get some help.”
Jake’s hands still. “He said that?”
I nod, recalling the painful conversation that opened my eyes to just how bad things had become for my only sibling.
“He said this should be an intervention, not a party.” I slump back in my chair. “I said no, but I didn’t have any idea it was this bad, either. Now I’m thinking I chose wrong.”
I turn my hands palms up, exasperated with his emotionless expression that’s now testing my patience. “I don’t know what to do.”
Shaking his head, he reaches for his beer and takes a long swig, eyes travelling to the window once more. “Youdon’t need to do anything. This is my mess.I’llsort it out.”
A glance at his watch. Toes tapping under the table. Knee bouncing.
He’s thirty years old but looks tired. He’s still built like the soldier he used to be, but there are shadows under his eyes that weren’t there before.
“So, if I give you some money and buy you some time, how do you pay back the rest?” I stand, needing to move, to do something with the nervous energy crawling under my skin. The kitchen is barely ten steps across, but I pace it anyway. “I have a feeling he’s not going to let you pay it back over five years.”
Jake’s head drops, chin nearly touching his chest. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. “No.”
“Then, what?” Even though I already know what he’s about to tell me, I need to hear him say it. He deserves to suffer at least that much for feeding me his bullshit.
“I’ll probably have to… work it off if I can’t come up with it another way.” He still won’t look at me, addressing his confession to the table.
Work it off.
I presume he’s not talking about washing dishes.
“Jake… you can’t…” Disappointment claws at my throat as I fight back tears. This isn’t my brother. I don’t even recognise this version sitting in front of me.
Is he really going to become a criminal? He’s the only family I have. I only just got him back from the army. I can’t lose him again.
“I don’t have a choice.” He insists.
“You could go to the police. You could…”
“And tell them what? That I owe money to a loan shark for my illegal gambling addiction? They’ll laugh me out of thestation, and Kozlov will kill me.” He finally meets my eyes, and the defeat there makes my chest ache. “Emma, these people don’t play by normal rules. The police can’t help me. No one can.”
“So, now you’re going to become one of them?”
His silence stretches too long. Not the good kind.
“Maybe if we go to them together and explain…”
Jake comes around the table and grips my arms. “No.” Even with his shoes off, he towers over me. “You don’t understand who these people are. You are not to go anywhere near them. Do you hear me, Em?”
I nod, stunned by the terror in his eyes. Who even are these people?
When Jake relaxes his grip, I hurry to my room, grab the jewelry I’ll happily sacrifice to keep my brother alive, and then drop the items into a pouch, holding it out for him to come and take.
Jake shakes his head, his body language screaming of self-loathing and shame.
“Take it. Mom would want you to, if it keeps all of your fingers attached to your hands.”
It was meant to be a joke, but it doesn’t land that way, both of us knowing that outcome is a distinct possibility if these are the kind of people he thinks they are.
“I should go,” he mutters, backing away.
