Saved by a Sinner

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Saved by a Sinner Page 38

by A G Henderson


  Dad smiled, lying that he was okay.

  Despite the weight loss.

  Despite the drinking.

  Despite the fact he barely left the house anymore.

  And I lied back.

  Despite the pang in my chest.

  Despite my own concern.

  Despite how much I missed when we could still talk to each other without there having to be a reason for it.

  “About that time, kiddo.” His formerly blonde hair was closer to the color of wheat, but still just as full as it had always been. He had to get some momentum going to rock up and out of his recliner, but once he did, he wasted no time before spreading his arms wide.

  I filled those arms without delay, inhaling the musky aftershave he always used. My body tried to tremble when he pulled me closer, but I fought it off, shifting from foot to foot.

  Almost there. Stay on the path.

  I pulled back slightly, keeping my arms around his midsection so I could smile up at a tanned, weathered face. “Don't get into trouble, old man. I'm charging you for gas money if I have to come back up here because you aren't doing what you're supposed to.”

  His low chuckle was forced, the squinty eyes he set on me not so much. “Don't think you're too old for me to go get my belt. The only smart thing I want to hear coming from your mouth is that you're going to be safe, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I promised easily enough. I wasn't leaving because I wanted danger or thrills. I was leaving because I wanted to live.

  I wanted - needed - to prove to myself I could make it on my own. Even if starting that journey meant accepting a little bit of help from an account I'd flat out refused to touch when it was first set up for me.

  We stepped away from each other. The floorboards shifted and creaked again behind me. Dad's eyes drifted over my shoulder towards Lawson, and the two said nothing to each other. The air quickly grew so stale I wondered how I managed to breath it for as long as I had.

  Foot tapping inside my boots, I raised a hand, snagging Dad's attention. “I'll call,” I told him once he was looking at me.

  God, how had this become our life?

  Me awkwardly waving goodbye to the man who had worked himself to the bone making sure I had everything I needed.

  Lawson and Dad existing in the same space and speaking more in grunts than actual words.

  A once happy family reduced to tiptoeing around each other, our only adhesive their shared worry for anything related to me.

  Mom would've been disappointed in all of us. But I kept that sentiment to myself.

  She was the open wound on each of our hearts. Time had sloppily stitched it together, but it had never closed. And any mention of her would only rip those temporary stitches from their place.

  “You better do the same,” said Dad. “If you look up and need a dang toothbrush, I want to hear about it. And make sure you show those rascals who the boss is.”

  No matter what else was going on, Dad using the word rascals would never fail to bring a smile to my face.

  I was out the door in the next beat, breath fogging in the chilly air, Lawson trailing on my heels. The sight of my used Honda Civic greeted me, loaded up with everything I would need. Satisfaction had me breathing easier. I was so close now I could almost taste it.

  “You're sure there's no place else you want to open up instead?” he threw out.

  My hand was already on the driver's side door, fingers closing around the cool metal when I stopped. Turned. Gave him the popped eyebrow and are-you-serious look his question deserved. “The shop is all but open and I'm the only thing missing. You know this. I didn’t run myself ragged over the last few months to quit now.” I glanced up and down the sleepy street, glad our neighbors weren’t outside to involve themselves so early in the morning. “Don’t ask me to quit now.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. “Even if I asked, you wouldn’t listen, would you?”

  I shook my head in answer.

  He hung his head, staring intently at the faded cement walkway beneath his feet. “Why do you always have to be so goddamn stubborn?” The quiet curse surprised me, earning him a wide-eyed blink. I hadn’t heard him swear since the day they lowered her casket in the ground. His head lifted, annoyance shifting closer to anger. “If you wanted to prove a point, you could’ve done so close by. There’s a hundred spots in this city I could’ve gotten you in with a single email. A thousand more would’ve gladly let you use their space if I made a single phone call. There’s-”

  “Stop,” I whispered, tugging on the sleeve of my sweater. He didn’t miss the motion or the nerves it contained. I was sure if his lips pressed together any harder, they were going to disappear completely. “Do you even hear yourself right now? Don’t you realize this is exactly why I’m doing this?”

  He stomped closer to me and I stood my ground. “Why? Because I care?” he demanded, a red flush creeping up his neck. “Because I don’t want you three hours away from your support network?”

  “Lynn is there,” I tried, playing the best friend card, hoping to not make this worse than it already was. My mistake.

  “Lynn is not me,” he whispered angrily, fists clenching. My heart was already in my stomach, burning uncomfortably. The measured breath he then took and the forced calm to his next words made the pain worse instead of better. “Is it so wrong that I want to take care of my baby sister? Should I apologize for making a promise to always make sure you were safe?”

  I had to reach a good ways to put my hands on his shoulders, but I did. He tried to loosen his body at my touch but the tension was apparent. I felt it. He knew I felt it, and how I felt about it. He was too young to carry so much on his shoulders. And while he would never admit that the load was heavy and that he was so, so tired of carrying it with him everywhere he went, I knew that too.

  It was more than intuition. He was my brother. My flesh and blood.

  He was the same guy who had carried me home on his back when we went too deep in the woods when we were younger.

  He was the same guy who had kept a roof over our heads after Dad gave up doing anything other than existing.

  He was also the same guy who had put his bigger dreams and ambitions of being the greatest defense attorney the country had ever seen on hold. Who had let opportunity after opportunity slip away from him. Lawson was a big fish in a pond grown so small it could barely fit him anymore. But he hadn’t left for deeper waters or greater challenges.

  Because of me.

  He was my brother and I loved him. We had a bond that sometimes stretched itself taut but never had a chance at breaking. And because I loved him, it made hurting him that much harder. Knowing the hurt was necessary didn’t make it feel like I was stabbing my own heart any less.

  My eyes stung but I begged the tears to remain at bay. “I’m not a job,” I said. He flinched like I had struck him and he turned his face away. But he didn’t step out of my hold. “And while I’ll always be your baby sister - even when we’re both old and grumpy, sitting in rocking chairs and complaining about kids being too loud - I’m also a woman in my own right. I’ve spent enough time living someone else’s life. I want my own, Law. I want to pay my own bills. I want to strive for success and risk failure. I want to wake up every morning to a new day and breathe air that hasn’t been recycled through this bubble I’ve been trapped in.”

  “I never meant to-”

  “I know,” I told him softly. “Of course I know. But don’t you always tell your clients that there’s no arguing with the facts? I can’t live my whole life in your shadow.” God, the tennis ball in my throat was putting in work. “That’s not what she would’ve wanted.” Lawson sighed, big body deflating when the truth poked a hole in him. “The sun rises again and again, and I want to see it for myself. Even if it burns.”

  He moved suddenly, crushing me against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his waist and soaked in his strength, taking it for my own. I felt him press
his lips to the crown of my head. “I shouldn’t have taught you everything I know about winning an argument,” he complained.

  Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

  “It’s weird that you’re acting like this was ever an argument in the first place.” My voice only wavered a miniscule amount while I spoke into his shirt. He heard it anyway, and his arms tightened briefly before he let me go and stepped back, blinking a little too fast for it to be casual.

  “I’ll be expecting regular updates,” he said, affecting the voice he usually reserved for judges. It was the no-nonsense, listen to me when I’m speaking, voice. “Text, call, email. Every day, no exceptions. I’ll even allow those silly gifs you’re so fond of.”

  “You got it.” My sloppy salute was intentional, and the small smile that accompanied it was real enough to beat back the sadness still lurking around the corner.

  This is it.

  I opened the car door and sank into the well-worn seat, breathing deep of the lavender scented spray I used. The engine turned over with ease, and its quiet rumble filled me with apprehension and impatience in equal measure. I rubbed my hands together then rolled the window down. Lawson was still standing there, looking troubled.

  “Don’t get in any trouble,” he called to me. I lifted my hand in an acknowledging wave as I pulled out onto the street.

  I wasn’t aware that I was holding my breath until I turned the corner and he disappeared from sight, along with our home. Then I released a ragged exhale and pulled another one in that filled my system with steadily building excitement. I was leaving. Finally.

  God. Finally!

  I smiled when I pulled onto the highway, turning the volume of the pop music on the radio up painfully loud.

  A mile in, my shades were on and I was singing along without a care in the world but the blue sky stretching towards my destination.

  Trouble? Lawson knew better than anyone that I had left those days behind me. Every girl was entitled to pursuing one bad boy in their life, and I’d gotten mine out of my system years ago.

  Besides, in spite of the well-known men and women who called it home, Oakdale was one of the safest towns in the state. So what it was an open secret that it was controlled by a notorious biker gang? I had received a surprisingly cordial visit from a giant sized blonde, confirming the one-time flower shop sitting right near the main plaza, tucked between a tattoo studio on one side and an incense store on the other, was mine to rent.

  A visit I most certainly hadn’t told my brother about. Obviously. Like, duh. He got on my nerves but I didn’t want him to have an aneurysm.

  But other than that, the only indication they were around was the sound of growling motorcycles going up and down the streets.

  Trouble? Puh-lease. I chuckled to myself, still swaying to the music.

  What kind of trouble could possibly drop into a smoothie shop of all places?

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