She said, “Look. He knows you.”
I didn’t understand then the earthquake this caused within me.
I poked his fat little cheek, marveling at the way his skin dimpled.
He blinked up at me, eyes bright and blue, blue, blue.
He made a noise. A little squawk.
And I was reborn.
“You’re my first love,” I said in this empty room, lost in the memory of how his hand had wrapped so carefully around my finger. “I knew that when you would always smile when you saw me, and it was like staring into the sun.”
I swallowed thickly, looking away from the window.
“You’re my heart,” I told him, knowing there was a chance he’d never forgive me. “You are my soul. I love Mom. She taught me kindness. I love Dad. He taught me how to be a good wolf. I love Joe. He taught me that strength comes from within.”
My breath hitched in my chest, but I pushed through it. He needed to hear this from me. He needed to know why. “But you were my greatest teacher. Because with you I understood life. What it meant to love someone so blindingly and without reservation. To have a purpose. To have hope. I have been a big brother for most of my life, and it’s the best thing I ever could be. Without you, I would be nothing.”
It hurt to breathe. “I know you’re going to be angry. But I hope you understand, at least a little bit.” I looked back at the screen. “Because I have this hole in my chest. This void. And I know why. It’s because of him.”
Leave. With you. I’ll. Go. With you. Don’t. Don’t touch. Them.
“I have to find him, Kelly. I have to find him because I think without him, there’s always going to be part of me that feels like I’m incomplete. I should have listened to you more when Robbie was gone. I should have fought harder. I didn’t understand then. I do now, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Maybe he’ll want nothing to do with me. Maybe he’ll….”
No. Stay. Back. Don’t want. This. Don’t want. Pack. Don’t want. Brother. Don’t want. You. Child. You are. A child. I am not. Like you. I am not. Pack.
“I have to try,” I pleaded in this empty room. “And I know Ox and Joe and all the others are looking for him, for the both of them, but it’s not enough. Kelly, he saved us. I see that now. He saved us all. And I have to do the same for him. I have to.”
Blood rushed in my ears. My vision was narrowing. There was a heavy weight on my chest, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
I said, “I made you a promise once. I told you that I would always come back for you. I meant it then and I mean it now. I will always come back for you. No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing, I’ll be thinking of you and imagining the day I get to see you again. I don’t know when that’s going to be, but after you kick my ass, after you scream and yell at me, please hug me like you’re never going to let me go because I won’t ever want you to.”
I tried to say more, tried to continue, but the weight was crushing me, and I bowed my head, claws digging into the surface of the desk. “Fuck. I can’t breathe. I can’t—”
My shoulders shook.
I gave in to it. My eyes burned as I choked on a sob.
I had to finish this while I still could.
It already felt like it was too late. For me. For him.
For all of us.
“Remember something for me, okay? When the moon is full and bright and you’re singing for all the world to hear, I’ll be looking up at the same moon, and I’ll be singing right back to you. For you. Always you.”
I wiped my eyes. The screen was blurry, and the stranger staring back at me looked haunted and lost. “I love you, little brother, even more than I can put down in words. You’ve got to be brave for me. Keep Joe honest. Give Ox shit. Teach Rico how to be a wolf. Show Chris and Tanner the depths of your heart. Hug Mom and Mark. Tell Gordo to lighten up. Have Jessie kick anyone’s ass who steps out of line. And love Robbie like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.”
And ah, god, there was still so much I had to say, so much I’d never told him, so much he needed to hear from me. That the only reason I was a good person was because of him. That our father would be proud of who he’d become. That when I’d been lost to the Omega, feeling it clawing at me, threatening to pull me down into an ocean of violet, I’d held on with all my might to the ragged remains of my tether, refusing to let it go, refusing to let it be taken from me.
I am alive because of you, I wanted to say.
But I didn’t.
I said, “I will come back for you, and nothing will hurt us ever again.”
I said, “I’ll be seeing you, okay?”
And that was it.
That was all.
A lifetime broken down into a few minutes of begging my pack to understand the terrible choice I was about to make.
I stopped the recording.
I thought about deleting it.
Just… deleting it and forgetting about all of this.
It would be so easy.
I’d delete it, and then I’d stand up. I’d leave the office. I’d sit on the steps on the porch until someone came home, and I’d tell them what I’d done and what I was about to do. Maybe it’d be Mom. She’d be smiling at the sight of me, but that smile would fade when she saw the look on my face. She’d rush forward, and I would tell her everything. That I thought I was losing my mind, that I didn’t know what Gavin was, not until it was too late. That I should have fought harder for him, that I should have told him that he couldn’t leave with Robert Livingstone, he couldn’t leave with his father, he couldn’t leave me. Not when I understood. Not when I knew now what I should have known a long time ago.
Or maybe it’d be Kelly. Maybe he’d know something was wrong.
Dust would be kicking up from the tires of his cruiser, the light bar across the top flashing, the siren wailing. He’d throw open the door, the look on his face a mixture of worry and anger.
“What are you doing?” he’d demand.
“I don’t know,” I’d reply. “I’m lost, Kelly. I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t know what’s going on, please, please, please save me. Please tie me down so I can never leave you. Please don’t let me do this. Please don’t let me leave. Scream at me. Hit me. Destroy me. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
I saved the video instead.
I stood up.
It was now or never.
Before I left the office, I looked back once.
For a moment I thought I saw my father standing behind his desk, hand stretched toward me.
I blinked.
There was nothing there.
A trick of the light.
I closed the door for the last time.
AND YET….
I hesitated on the porch, duffel bag at my feet.
I told myself it was because I was taking it in. This place. Our territory. A last few breaths of home for whatever lay ahead.
But I was a liar.
I looked down the dirt road, snow falling in flurries and clinging to the trees. No one came.
And still I waited.
One minute turned into two, turned into three, into seven.
When ten minutes had passed, I knew it was now or never. I had stalled long enough.
I picked up my bag.