“You should,” he replies.
“I should what?”
“You should want those guys, Lily. You need to get out of here,” he declares.
“What does that even mean? I’m not a stupid little girl. I know what goes on around here. I know Cash isn’t an upstanding citizen, but he’s who I want.”
“You have no fuckin’ idea what goes on here, ‘cause if you did, you would get the fuck out of Florida and never turn back,” he slurs a few of the words, and I realize he’s drunk.
I take a few tentative steps toward him, and he scoffs when he notices that I’m wearing Cash’s hoodie.
“Then tell me, Leon. Tell me why I need to stay away? Because I don’t think I can,” I tell him honestly.
His brown eyes, which are just like mine, are riddled with sadness when he looks at me, and I swear on my life they’re watery. I don’t remember ever seeing my brother cry, not when he got hit as a child, not when our mom came home with bruises… never.
Leon is the strongest person I know, so to see him like this feels foreign. I’m not even sure if I need to stand my ground and talk about what I’m doing, or find a way to bring himsome comfort. I feel guilty, but Leon has always been the one comforting me in times of distress, not the other way around.
“I can’t,” he chokes out. His left-hand grabs the bottle of whiskey, and he pours himself another glass. “You fuckin’ stink,” he spits out, and I roll my eyes.
I remind myself to try and be compassionate. This isn’t my brother; this sad, hopeless man that’s been before me over the last few weeks isn’t him. I sit down next to him, reaching out and grabbing his hand in mine. He accepts my affection, and I sigh with relief.
“I hate seeing you like this. I’m here for you, always.”
He squeezes my hand, sighing heavily. “I know, Lily. That’s why you need to leave. If Cash is who you want, then jump on the back of his bike and get as far as you fuckin’ can from this place,” he warns somberly.
“What about you?”
He laughs sardonically. “There’s nowhere else for me.”
“What if I feel the same way?”
He lets go of my hand to run his fingers through his hair. “You think I don’t want you here? Lily, I love you more than I love fuckin’ anyone. The idea of you leavin’ breaks my fuckin’ heart. But I love you so much that I’d rather you leave, be happy, and get to live a full life than for me to be selfish with you.”
“I couldn’t leave you and Mom behind,” I protest.
“Lily,” he sighs out my name and takes another drink. “I know you don’t remember much from when we were kids, but do you remember that time we got to go to that park with all the tire swings?”
“Yeah,” I reply, wondering what this has to do with anything.
“We made a plan on how we were going to escape, just you and me?” I nod my head at him and he continues. “We didn’t take Mom into consideration because we knew there’s no way she would leave. No matter how bad that pack treated her, eventhough they didn’t bond her, she was too weak to leave. You’re not weak, Lily, you’re stronger than you think. You could escape this life, and have more, like we always dreamed of.”
My eyes water and I wipe away a fat tear. Leon never brings up our childhoods, and the fact that he’s doing so now hits me right in the chest.
“Then tell me straight up, why do I need to leave? If you give me a good reason… I’ll do it,” I beg him.
I’m being honest, I’ve already run the scenario of having to leave in my head. It’s not what I want–I want to be here, be a part of the club—but if it comes down to the club or the men I want to be with, I’m going to choose them. I just wish I knew what Leon was so afraid of. I want to help him, and I don’t know if I can do that if I leave.
He groans, taking another shot and standing up. I have to look up at him when he steps closer to me and squeezes my shoulder. “Isn’t seein’ me like this enough? I love you, Lily. I pray this isn’t the last time I see you, but I sure as fuck hope that you get the hell out of here,” he whispers.
I stand up and wrap my arms around his waist, squeezing him tight. His scent is a warm comfort, even though I’m wrapped in Cash’s.
“You would tell me if you were in trouble, right?” I ask against his chest. “Do you need money?”
He laughs sardonically and shakes his head, his arms surrounding me, returning the hug.
“I don’t need money, I just need to know you’re going to be okay.”
“Couldn’t you leave too? Shouldn’t we all go then, if things are so bad?” I ask, wondering specifically why I’m the only one who needs to get the hell out of dodge.
