Bound

by Leah Holt

  I failed him. He didn't listen, he didn't believe me.

  But, I didn't kill him.

  “How can you blame me for this?”

  “Look,” he said, turning to face me with his palms up. “I know you think that you did the right thing.” Taking a step forward, his hands danced in the air as he spoke. “And I know you might have convinced yourself in that fucking brain of yours that everything was over. The truth is, it's not, it never was. We were here, we've always been here, living in your fucking filth. We didn't leave you, you left us. And that didn't fix the problem you created.”

  “So you really think this is my fault?” Shaking my head, I gawked at him in disbelief. “I did what needed to be done. If I stayed they would have killed us all. I left to keep everyone safe, I left to keep Zander safe, I did that for him.”

  Bobbing his head up and down, his voice went soft and thin. “Of course you did, you did it for him. Obviously, that didn't work in his favor.”

  Veering my stare, I wanted so badly for him to just understand that I didn't do anything on purpose to hurt our family. It hurt so much when he looked at me like I was garbage. All I ever really wanted from him was his acceptance, to feel like I belonged. He just couldn't ever give me that.

  “If I had stayed, all of us would be dead right now. Don't you understand that?”

  He hated me for everything I had done. But the thing was, it just felt good to be accepted and wanted, to feel like I was a part of something bigger than myself. I found something I excelled at, and that drew me in like a moth to a flame.

  It wasn't right, none of it was. But maybe if he had loved me better, if he hadn't treated me like I was beneath him, like his blood born child was a gift, and I was just a burden; maybe I wouldn't have looked for acceptance elsewhere.

  You can't blame him for all of it. . . You made your own choices.

  “Porter, we don't need to bicker over the shit you and I will never agree on. You did what you did, that's the end of it. Your brother is dead, and it's all your fault. Why don't you just go, leave now before you cause any more problems.”

  Drawing my lips taut, I inched my way closer to him, bringing us chest to chest. “Don't you dare try and put this on me. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere. Mom needs me, so I'm not leaving.” Leaning into his ear, I spoke clear and firm. “I will always be a part of this family, you can't change that, you never could.”

  Leaning back, a part of me wanted to turn and walk out that door, leaving him to drown in his own alcohol-induced hatred. I didn't need him to remind me of what I had done, I did that to myself every damn day already.

  Taking in a deep breath, his nostrils flared wide, eyes cutting into my soul. “You left us, that was your choice. You could have stayed and done the right thing, stood tall and faced the executioner like a real man. Instead, you abandoned your family, you killed your brother, and you destroyed this fucking family.”

  The right thing?!

  Where was he when I needed him?!

  When I went to him for help he told me to get fucked. When I asked him for advice on what I should do, he told me I wasn't his son, and he didn't care.

  “Are you fucking serious? Don't you dare start throwing out shit about doing the right thing! You gave up on me long before all that shit went down.”

  “Shh.” he quietly said, holding his finger to his lips. “Your mother doesn't need us arguing, not right now.” Stroking his chin, he rocked his jaw. “You're only a part of this family because your mother can't let you go. But just because you left, doesn't mean you're a changed man, Porter. I know what you became, I know what those fucking pricks created. You mean nothing to me anymore.”

  “When did I ever mean anything to you? You've always hated me, why don't you just admit it?”

  As much as I tried to not think about it, I couldn't ignore the fact that I was a heartless monster. The time I spent trying to rebuild myself as someone else; I still remained empty and cold.

  For so long I blamed who I was on him. That was wrong. I made my own choices, I decided to climb the wall, and drop in on the other side. My father might have laid the tracks, but I climbed on the train.

  How could I blame him for the choices I made? It wasn't until I abandoned my family and left to fend for myself, that I saw the real man behind the mask.

  Children are malleable, you can mold them into anything you want. Marcos had groomed a killer. By taking me in and giving me everything I thought I was missing from my life, I found my place. I thought he cared for me. I thought he saw me like a son.

  And when it was over, I went looking for something that I would never find. I searched for a new home, a new life, a new me. . . but I realized fairly early that I was out there searching for something that didn't exist; I didn't fit in this world.

  There was no such place, not for me. I was tarnished, crafted into a machine that was meant for destruction. I couldn't find happiness when I had no clue what the fuck it looked like.

  A small flicker of guilt gnawed at my gut, making me wish I had never left. Guilt for not ever picking up the phone to call my brother, guilt for not being there to protect him. Maybe if I had been there, it wouldn't have ended this way. . . maybe he wouldn't be gone, and my mother wouldn't be suffering the way she was.

  We never stopped being brothers, even though I stopped being his. Dead at eighteen years old, he hadn't had the chance to start his life yet.

  It was time for me to do something for him. It was time for me to step back into this family, if only for a little while.

  I know what I need to do.

  My mind was made up. My brother was dead, and nothing would ever bring him back.

  I'm going to make this right.

  I'm coming home.

  Chapter Eleven

  Porter

  “Well, don't you two look cozy?” Franco's voice slipped into my ear, rousing me awake. “Get up.” His fist hit my shoulder, nudging me hard.

  Pushing myself up, I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the fog. I must have fallen asleep beside Emery, because the last thing I could remember was pulling her into my arms, and laying my head on the pillow.

  “What time is it?” I asked, swinging my feet off the side of the bed, and planting them on the floor.

  “It's time for you to get your head out of your ass.” Franco wrapped firm fingers around my arm, yanking me to my feet, and dragging me across the room. “Come with me.”

  “What the hell!?” I yelled, stumbling forward, still suspended in that half awake half asleep vortex.

  “Porter, what's going on?” Emery sat up in bed, her eyes frantically watching Franco drag me away.

  “It's fine, don't worry.” Through slit lids, I curled my lip. “Right, Franco? Everything's fine.”

  Stopping short, he bared his teeth and glanced between us. “It's not fine, none of this is fine. So don't try and act like it is.” Zeroing his gaze on Emery, he barked. “Even you know it's not fine, don't play stupid. You can't be that fucking dumb. Are you that dumb, little girl? Obviously, you must be if you'd sleep with a piece of shit like this.”

  “Hey!” I yelled, tearing my arm from his hand. “Don't talk to her like that, she's been through enough.” Taking a step back, I growled. “She's a victim here, she doesn't need you treating her like she's done something wrong. Don't you ever talk to her like that again.”

  Balling my fists, I spread my feet to gain more balance. If he said one more fucking thing to her in that asshole tone of his, I was going to lay him out.

  I could take him talking to me like I was dirt, I would shut my mouth, and let him call me every name in the book, if it meant he'd never step foot in this room again until this was all over.

  But, the one thing I wasn't going to do was stand by and let him talk to her like she was beneath him, as if she deserved to be in this mess.

  Franco's fingers tapped against his thighs, the vein in his neck going crazy as his blood boiled. “Do not tell me wha
t to do in my own home, Porter. Let's go, we need to have a little chat.” Fanning out his arm toward the door, he dipped his head. “After you, Asshole.”

  Looking over at Emery, I forced a tender smile. “I'll be back in a few minutes, try to just relax.”

  What the hell are you trying to do?

  It was hard for me to find that balance between understanding the position he was in, and my hatred for who he was to begin with. No matter what I had done to cause all of this, I still fucking hated that man with all of my being.

  When he was around, I instantly became irritated and annoyed. Anything he said, even if it was constructive in some sick asshole way, bothered me. I would argue with him just for the sake of arguing.

  It wasn't the smart thing to do, but after years of verbal abuse, after dealing with him day in and day out, his dickhead ways had just poisoned him altogether. I felt like a soda bottle shaken violently with the cap still on, and ready to burst.

  Closing the door behind me, I followed Franco downstairs. Stopping at the island in the kitchen, he whipped around on his heels, his eyes hard as rock. He didn't say a word, not one fucking word.

  “Well? What the hell do you want? What the fuck was that all about?”

  Pulling his arm back, he threw himself forward, socking me in the jaw. It caught me off guard, making me wobble on my feet as I grabbed my face.

  “What the hell was that for!?” Rocking my jaw back and forth, I rubbed the sore muscle.

  “I want you gone. Not tomorrow, not three days from now, I want you gone now. Get the fuck out, and don't ever show your face here again.”

  A devious chuckle escaped my mouth as I clenched my jaw. “I'm not going anywhere, Franco. Not yet, and not like this.”

  Lunging forward, he threw his finger in my face. “You are going to get us all killed. I won't let you drag us down with you! Not again! Take your fucking whore, and get the hell out!”

  Gritting my teeth, all I could see was red. Digging my fingertips into my palm, I had my arm back, ready to strike. “I warned you, I fucking warned you not to talk about her like that.” Through clenched teeth, I felt my stomach tighten, and my muscles convulse, eager to launch all their strength into his face.

  “What's going on?” My mother came flying into the room, her eyes wide and concerned. “What happened?” Stepping between us, she pushed me back. Her eyes fell on my mouth as I wiped away the light trickle of blood. “Did you hit him?” she asked, glaring over her shoulder at her husband.

  “He deserved it! Your damn son, Jo, is going to get us all killed!” Franco opened and closed his hands at his sides repeatedly, his muscles shaking as he tried to maintain some sort of control. “He was upstairs fucking that girl, after everything that happened, after everything we've done for him, it's like he doesn't care at all about anyone else. All he cares about is himself, same as always.”

  “Porter, is that true?”

  “Does it really matter? I don't understand how it's any of your business what I do with her. I'm not a damn kid, I don't need your permission to be with someone.”

  Curling her arms around her chest, my mother started rocking side to side. “You're right, you don't need our permission. But this isn't going to help you, Porter. Get your head out of the clouds, you're only going to hurt that girl.”

  “I'm not going to hurt her.”

  “I know you, and you will. That's what you do, you destroy things that are good. I'm sorry, Honey, I'm not trying to be cruel. I don't understand why you sabotage anything good that comes into your life.” My mother's brows crept knowingly to her hairline, her chin falling into her chest as she eyed me. “You've done it since you were a kid, this won't be any different. It's not fair to her, not one bit.”

  “You don't know me, I'm not that man anymore.” Holding up my hands, deflated and at a loss, I said, “Fine, you want me out, you want me gone, I'll go then.” Throwing my arms in the air, I took a long step towards the stairs. “Let me go get Emery, and we'll be out of your hair.”

  Reaching out for me, my mother's face softened. “That's not what I meant, I don't want you to leave. I just meant don't lead her on, especially when you know you'll never stick around.”

  “You don't know that!” I yelled, dragging my hands down my face. “I've changed, things are different now. Stop expecting me to be him, stop acting like people can't change, because they do.”

  “Honey, I want to believe you, I really do. But the past is the best indicator of the future. You've only proven your father right—”

  “He's not my father! No matter how much you say it, it doesn't make it true!”

  “Okay, alright,” she sighed, pinching her bottom lip as her eyes searched my face. “But, Franco has been there for you, he's been here since you were a little boy. We don't want you to go, Porter. We want to help, but you have to work with us here.”

  “What?! No! He can't stay here, Jo. Do you really want those people coming back? Do you really want to worry about who's going to knock at the door one day?”

  “Franco, he's my son. I won't just abandon him, I did that once already, and it was the worst mistake of my life.” Twisting to look at me, my mother held out her hand. “Come on, don't go. Besides, she's not ready for that. Emery needs to rest, she needs to get better, she can do that here.”

  “Jo!”

  “Shut it, Franco!” Snapping her shoulders square, my mother glared at her husband. “I won't just turn my back on the only son I have left. We did it your way, it didn't work. I'm not pushing him away again.”

  “Jo—”

  Slicing her hand through the air, my mother's voice was the firmest I had ever heard it. “Enough! If you don't like it, if you don't want to be around him, then you can pack your shit and leave. But, my son needs me, that's the only thing that matters to me right now.”

  Turning away from him, she jerked her head for me to go up stairs, quickly following on my heels.

  “Mom, you don't need to do this,” I said over my shoulder as my feet hit the landing. “It's alright, I won't make you choose between us.”

  “Porter, it's not even a choice. Zander stood by your side since the very beginning, and I should have too.” Walking past me, she kept her head straight. “Come on, I want to go check on Emery, and see how she's doing.” Her hand struck the door as she opened it simultaneously. “How are we doing?” she chirped, her voice upbeat and casual.

  I knew she had just switched from mom mode into nurse mode. I could see the shift, I could watch the visible transformation as her entire demeanor changed.

  Emery sat up quickly, grabbing the blankets and holding them tight. “Is everything alright? I heard yelling, what's going on?”

  “Everything is fine, Sweetheart, I don't want you to worry.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, she began to touch her neck, moving the pads of her fingers around her head. “Are you alright? How's your chest feel?”

  “Better actually, it still hurts, but it's better.”

  “Good, I'm glad. And your head?”

  “I feel like I got hit with a baseball bat, but other than that, I'm doing okay.”

  “And you ate, that's good.” Emery shook her head with a smile. “Well, I'm thinking you're going to be just fine.” My mother scooped her hansd down Emery's hair, smoothing out the frizzled strands. “Did you call home yet?”

  “Oh, no, not yet, but I will. I live on my own, so no one is really waiting for me anyway.”

  Thinning her lips, my mother placed her hands on her lap. “Okay, well, make yourself at home. I'm going to go grab you some of my clothes so you can shower. But feel free to go downstairs and get some food if you're hungry, anything you want. My house is your house.”

  “Thank you,” Emery said.

  Pinching her chin, my mother smirked. “Absolutely, it's my pleasure.” Getting up, my mother walked by me, giving me a grin and poking me in the gut. “I'll be right back with clean clothes for her.”

  Emery's eyes were
on me as I turned away from my mom and looked at her. My lip twitched high, head falling into my chest. “See, she's great.”

  “She is, you were a lucky kid.”

  “Yes and no. She was great when she was here, but when she was a nurse, her hours sucked. Sometimes she'd work full twenty-four hour shifts, and I wouldn't see her for days. She had to work on birthdays and holidays, she worked nights and would sleep all day. It took a lot out of her and it created a rift between us.”

  “Well, she had do to what she had to do, right? A lot of parents have to sacrifice for their kids.”

  Shrugging my shoulder, I said, “I guess.”

  “Okay, here's some stuff for you to put on after you clean up.” My mother cut into the room, and we both stopped talking. Her eyes darted back and forth between us as her feet slowed. “And this is how you know when people were just talking about you.” Placing the clothes on the bed, she grabbed her hips.

  “I was just telling Emery how you used to be a nurse. She was curious is all.”

  “Mm hm, sure you were. You probably barely remember that, you were three when I stopped working.” Pointing her finger between us, she started to giggle. “You know this makes me feel really old. It reminds me of that time when Porter was about fourteen, and he had this 'girl' friend over to study.” Her fingers made quotations in the air as she rolled her eyes playfully. “I came in to find them making out on his bed, not one book open. Porter's eyes were so big like saucers, and he ended up shoving the poor girl off the edge of his bed.”

  “Really?” Emery laughed, covering her mouth with her hands. “You shoved her off?” she asked me, still unable to control her laughter.

  “I didn't mean to, I just wanted to stop us from kissing, and I guess I didn't really think about how hard I pushed her. It was a reflex, that's it. My mom surprised the hell out of me because she was home early from grocery shopping.”

  “I wasn't home early, you just weren't paying attention to the time.” Waving her hand in the air, my mother let out a heavy breath. “Alright, I'm going to go smooth out what I can downstairs. Why don't you two come down once you're all done showering, I've got something to show the both of you.”