by L. M. Heidle
I smiled as I said, “Thank you.”
I found the room with ease, but I balked with my hand on the door. Four years. I hadn’t seen my brother in four years. What did I say? What did I do? I planned a whole speech in the car, but now I was second guessing every word I’d memorized. I dropped my hand and took a step back. My breaths started coming faster and faster. I couldn’t do this. I stumbled back until I hit the wall. My body started shaking as my heart rate skyrocketed. I slid down the wall trying to regain what little confidence I had. That’s when I remembered what Trayton said. Trip loves me and that is truly all that matters. I seriously wished they wouldn’t have taken my phone. I wanted to hear Trayton tell me everything was going to be okay. I slowly stood, shaking my arms like a fighter before a title fight. I could do this by myself. I got this.
I opened the door to find a room with soft brown walls and worn, but well-kept furniture. I walked over to the couch and gave it a thorough checking out because I’m sure a conjugal visit or two may have happened in here. I sat down and stood up a couple of times trying to decide where to be when he opened the door. I hated all the uncertainty, but I was pretty sure I was entitled to a few nerves.
A loud buzzing and click of a lock had me jumping from the couch. When he walked in my heart stopped, and the tears flowed. I waved a hand in front of my face and tried to blink away the tears as I watched the officer uncuff him.
I wanted to run to him, to hold onto him until everything was right again, but I couldn’t move. My legs shook, and my feet were frozen to the floor as I watched him. The same dirty blond hair I remembered, but he wasn’t the carefree brother I remembered. His face was harder, his beautiful green eyes a little dimmer. My heart cracked a little more at the thought of his pain, and that I’d added to it.
There was so much I wanted to say, but what I blurted out wasn’t it. “Orange isn’t your color.”
He threw his head back in laughter. “Only you, Lollypop.” His laugh unfroze me. I ran to him, wrapping my arms around him as I began to sob. He held me so tight I couldn’t breathe, but at this point, I didn’t care. I was holding my brother, and that’s all that mattered.
When I finally got myself under control, I pulled back. “I can’t believe you’re still calling me that.” When I was five-ish, I got a lollypop stuck in my hair. My solution? Give my seven-year-old brother a pair of scissors and let him cut it out. When he was done, he decided it didn’t look right. He’d been cutting the hair off my dolls for years, so I trusted him. At the time I was too scared to remember the horrible haircuts he’d given my dolls. Needless to say, it looked like a weed whacker attacked my head, and we both got grounded.
“Always. I missed you, kid.” I buried my head in his chest again trying to temper the tears. He tipped my head up to look at him. “I’m so sorry for …” he coughed to clear his throat. “… taking Mom and Dad away.”
Eye ducts instantly dry. “Shut up, Trip!” He stepped back in surprise. “You were a kid who made a mistake. Mom and Dad wouldn’t want me to blame you, and they sure as hell wouldn’t want you blaming yourself! What did Dad always say about mistakes?”
He turned his back to me when he started shaking. A little piece of me broke with each tear he cried. “This is different.”
“No, it’s not,” I pressed. “What did he say?”
He dropped his head, and it killed me to see him suffer, but he needed to say it. “A mistake is only a mistake if it’s not learned from.”
“Instead of beating yourself up over something you can never change, think about what you’re going to do to honor them. They wouldn’t want this self-loathing. They’d want you to fight for your future. Now can we move this conversation to the hopefully sanitary couch please?”
“Yeah.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to it. All the while a seriousness taking over his features, shoulders taut, brows furrowed, and lips drawn tight. Trip had never been great with emotions, so I gave him time even though I was bursting at the seams with excitement of getting to spend time with him. Finally, he whispered, “Lolly, you don’t blame me?”
“No. Am I crushed that they’re gone? Of course. Do I miss them? Daily.” I squeezed his hand. “But I’ve never once blamed you.”
He shook his head. “How could you not? I’m the reason they’re dead. It’s because of me they won’t see you grow up, graduate, get married, or have kids.”
“I know that and yeah it stings.” The tears started pouring again. “But you forget that you’ll be there every step of the way with me.” I squeezed his hand and leaned into him. “We’ll rebuild our lives together.”
He swiped a tear from my eye. “Wow. I was expecting anger, not understanding.”
“Don’t get cocky. I’m still pissed.”
“I’ve been locked in a jail cell for four years. What could I have possibly done?”
“Left me,” I snapped. I took a deep breath and tried unsuccessfully to stop the tears…again. It was like my eyes were faucets. “Trip, I needed you, and you were gone. I didn’t just lose both my parents’. I also lost a brother. You wouldn’t talk to me or see me.”
He wrapped his big arm around my shoulders, pulling me in. “It’s not because I didn’t want to, but my head was messed up. I didn’t think I could have handled seeing you. I was in a dark place, and I knew seeing the hatred in your eyes would be the end for me.” He let go, putting his elbows on his knees and hung his head. For the first time, I noticed his hands were shaking. I grabbed one, and he gave me a faint smile. “Not seeing you gave me hope you still loved me.”
“All the letters you returned unopened at first? Would have solved that problem.” I squeezed his hand. “I’ve never hated you.” I bumped his shoulder with mine. “I’m sorry too, you know. I should have tried harder to see you. I kept thinking if I gave you enough time, you’d say you wanted to see me.” I smiled. “I should have known my big bro was too stubborn.”
“Yeah, I’m the stubborn one,” he snorted. His voice softened, “But seriously, I’m sor…” I glared at him. He changed gears, smartly. “I’m not complaining, but why today?”
I didn’t want to burden him with my dreams, so I simply said, “It was time.” I had to lighten the mood before more tears fell. “How are you doing? Is everyone treating you nice?”
He snorted as he choked on laughter. “You do realize I’m in prison, right?”
I blushed. “I know, I mean how are you holding up?”
He sighed as he leaned back. “It was hard at first and still is, but Lucas has been helping me.”
“Good, and speaking of Lucas.” I smacked him on the chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He rubbed where I’d hit him. “Lucas was right. You are abusive.”
I turned in my seat, back to the armrest and one leg on the couch. “I had to find out from someone else.”
“He didn’t want you to know.”
“But I could have done something.”
A sad smile crossed his face. “He did what he thought was right, and to protect me in here.” My heart squeezed as what he said registered. In a sense, Lucas gave up his life to protect my brother. Another ripple effect caused by my parents’ death. “He’s smart. He’ll be okay.” I prayed to God he would be. I’d just started getting my family back, I couldn’t lose it again. “Speaking of someone else. You’re breaking up with him.” The statement pissed me off, but I was grateful for the change of conversation.
“Excuse me?”
“Lucas and I decided that you two won’t work.”
My body started to heat as my blood boiled. “You and Lucas decided?” He couldn’t be serious.
“You heard me.”
“That is my decision, not yours and definitely not Lucas’. So, we’re going to skip the last five minutes of this conversation and move on.” He crossed his arms, and I knew he wanted to say more, but he didn’t want to push his luck.
“Fine,” he huffed.
“Good.”
We talked nonstop for the next hour, and when the guard knocked on the door announcing time was up, I started bawling.
“No! I need more time. Can’t they let me stay a little longer?”
He stood pulling me with him. “I wish.”
I was in the middle of telling him goodbye when a man walked in. “I’ve got some news.”
“Warden,” my brother said.
“You’re letting him come home with me?” I asked hopefully.
He laughed, “No, not yet.”
My brother’s ears perked up. “Yet?”
“I just got word, they approved your parole. You’ll be released at the end of the month.”
I jumped him before he finished speaking, squeezing the life out of him. “Thank you so much!” One look at my brother’s widened and glazed eyes told me he was stunned. He stumbled back until he fell onto the couch. Seconds later I was practically bouncing up and down in his lap. “Trip, you’re coming home!!!”
The warden cleared his throat and interjected, “I’ll have an exact date for you soon. As for right now I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”
I held it together...somewhat until I got into the car, but as soon as the door closed, I lost it. I cried four years’ worth of tears, and with every tear that hit the steering wheel, a little weight fell away. The feeling of peace slowly washed through me at the knowledge a chapter in my life had closed. I’d never forget my parents, but having my brother back made their death a little easier to handle.
ALEX
I put the car in drive and peeled my way out of the parking lot with one place on my mind...Trayton’s apartment. I didn’t bother calling, mostly because I’d sound like a blubbering idiot, so instead I drove, hoping he’d be home.
I pulled into his parking lot sideways and did a parking job that would make my daddy cringe. The car was barely in park before I was out and running past the doorman, headed for the elevator. I hit the button, bouncing up and down in my excitement. Trip was getting out! If he wasn’t here, the doorman downstairs might get an earful because I was bursting to tell someone.
After ringing his doorbell and pounding on the door, Tray opened it. His eyes ran over my face as he pulled me into the apartment, running his hands up and down my arms. “Alex, are you okay?”
I threw my arms around him crying, “Isawmybrotherandhesgettingoutthismonth.” My crying soon turned into full out ugly sobs as he set me down on his couch.
He sat down in front of me on the coffee table. “Angel, I’m going to need you to repeat that.”
“Mybrotherisgettingout.”
He pressed his finger to my lips. “Slower.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my breathing. “I saw my brother today, and he’s getting out this month.” Hurt flashed through his eyes. “I know we said we’d go together, but I woke up this morning and had to see him.”
He leaned forward, kissing my forehead. “Don’t apologize. I’m happy you went to see him. So when does he get out?”
I crisscrossed my legs, squirming to get comfortable. “The warden said the end of the month.” I started bouncing again, so much for my calm. “Tray, he’s getting out! Can you believe it?”
He grabbed my wrists as I threw my hands above my head and started to do spirit fingers, lightly laughing. “Angel, that’s wonderful.”
I’d had enough words, so I leaned forward pressing my lips to his. Not such a good idea to try when it’s a glass coffee table. When I leaned into him harder, the entire thing exploded. My hand shot to my mouth as Trayton fell into the center of the table. My shock quickly turned to amusement as I started to shake with laughter.
Trayton slowly got up, rubbing glass from his butt as he watched me. “Think that’s funny?” I clutched my side I was laughing so hard. He pounced on me, tickling everywhere his hands could reach making me laugh harder.
“Uncle, uncle!” When he didn’t let up, I pleaded, “Please, I’m gonna pee.” He finally let up but hovered over me as he pushed hair behind my ear. Being with him, in this position should make me nervous, but all I felt was completely content. From the moment I’d met him I’d never known what to expect. He probably wasn’t good for me, but is anyone ever truly good for someone else? We weren’t taking that step, not today or anytime in the foreseeable future, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t one day picture us taking it. His lips were an inch from mine when Sound of Madness by Shinedown started playing. Lucas.
He rested his forehead on my shoulder. “What are the chances you’ll ignore that?” I was tempted, but I wanted to share my news with him too much. I lightly pushed on Trayton’s defined abs. “I figured.”
“Sorry, it’s Lucas.” His body tensed and hesitated a minute, but eventually, he let me up. I knew he didn’t like Lucas, but I appreciated that he didn’t make any snide remarks. I answered right before it clicked over to voicemail. “Trip’s coming home!”
TRAYTON
I stepped out of the living room into my office, leaving the door cracked so I could still hear her. When I saw her at my front door, I wanted to find whoever caused her pain and make them feel it tenfold, but my need to comfort her outweighed my need for revenge. Part of me hated she went to the prison without me, but the bigger part was happy she reconnected with her brother. The favor my uncle called in came at the perfect time. He didn’t volunteer which favor he called in to get him paroled, and I didn’t care. I only knew she was happy, and that was all that mattered.
I could hear the excitement in her voice as she told Playboy all about her visit and news. It took everything I had to keep my butt in the seat. I wanted to rip the phone from her hand and forbid her from talking to him, but even without my uncle’s warning, I knew that wouldn’t go over well. I didn’t like anything that endangered her, and I especially didn’t like him. My hands started to clench as I remembered our phone call earlier.
Four hours earlier…
Not even two minutes after getting off the phone with my uncle where he basically told me to play nice my phone rang. I knew who it was without having to look. I could already feel the migraine building at the thought of this call.
“You wasted a call, Playboy. I’m not letting her go.”
“Russo, I know Alex is an incredible person, but she’s not meant for a life of crime. She’s not strong enough.”
“Is that in general, or just with me?” I took his silence to mean with me. “She’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for,” I said with conviction because I truly believed she was.
“You weren’t there,” he snapped. “You didn’t watch her fall apart.”
I stood, pacing my office as my anger grew. “From what I understand neither were you.”
“That was for her protection, pinchaezo, but just because I wasn’t there physically doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”
“Save your pathetic justifications. You weren’t there—end of story. She may have battle scars, but she survived.” She could have taken a different path, especially considering she was so young when it happened. She didn’t turn to drugs or alcohol. She fought her way through the pain.
He was silent, but I could feel his loathing for me through the phone. “Russo, I don’t care what you think, all I care about is you leaving her alone. And if you choose not to, I have the Diablos’ behind me.” His under toned threat was in vain, and he knew that.
I calmly replied, “Playboy, gangs come and go, the true test of someone’s power is how long they last. You’re just another blimp on the radar that will be gone faster than you came, so save your idle threats.” That set him off like I knew it would. Another testimony of staying power was the ability to stay even tempered through all situations. A quality that I struggled with especially dealing with anything Alex related.
The venom in his voice as he replied was unmistakable. “A gang—as you like to call us—that gains more control of Texas and surrounding states daily. I’d be careful how you speak because you never know w
ho’ll be on top tomorrow.”
Now he had my blood boiling. Was I worried about him threatening me? No. I knew my family’s power. My concern was for Alex. In wars there’s always collateral damage, but gang wars usually had more due to careless, hot-tempered, and trigger happy members. I refused to let Alex become a statistic.
I stood behind my chair, squeezing the leather so hard it creaked as I tried not to lose it. “Save the threats, even you aren’t dumb enough to think this will ever be more than a personal dispute.” With that I ended the call seconds before I swiped my hand across my desk, sending everything flying. I hadn’t lost my cool during the call.
I poured myself a shot of vodka as I tried to slow my breathing. After two more shots I picked up my desk from the floor. My phone rang from under a pile of papers, ruining the warming sensation that only vodka and Alex could create. After digging it out, I answered without checking the ID, assuming it was Playboy.
“Don’t waste your time.” My control from before had slipped, and my outright hatred bled through my words.
“I see you’ve spoken with Mr. Hernandez.”
“I had the pleasure.” My temper only slightly decreased when I heard my uncle’s voice, knowing chances were I wasn’t going to like this call.
“I guess my call is a little late then. I spoke with Eduardo this morning, and we’ve decided you two can work this out between yourselves.” I gritted my teeth to stop from mouthing off. I should have known he’d talk to Playboy’s boss.
“You didn’t need to do that. I’ve got things covered.”
He exhaled what I’m sure was cigar smoke before responding. “Trayton, let me remind you about not making her choose because there’s no guarantee it’ll be you.” He hung up after telling me to call my stepmom, and I fell into my chair.
I massaged my temples as what he said sank in. He was right, I couldn’t guarantee the outcome, and losing her was unacceptable. I also wouldn’t want to put her through that, so I’d play nice to see her smile. The only true reason I despised him was because he had a piece of her heart, other than that I respected him for his tenacity to protect Alex.
