Me: Sure you should be texting at work? I doubt your brother would appreciate that.
I flip the screen back over and face it toward my lap, hoping that the gesture will keep me from checking for his response every millisecond. And all the while, my leg keeps bouncing up and down in a frantic rhythm. Gibbs places his hand on top of it, surprising me to the point where I literally jump in my seat.
I scowl back at him before smoothing my features. “Can I help you?”
“You okay there?” he returns just as quickly.
“Yup. Just dandy.”
My phone vibrates again, but because Gibbs isn’t as invested in the conversation humming around us as a minute ago, he notices it this time.
“Is that him?” he asks, dipping his chin at my cell.
The truck goes silent.
I shrug instead of confirming his suspicion when it’s just as absolute as my own. I don’t need to look at the screen to know the message is from Ian. It’s like some sick sixth sense that I’ve always had with him. I could always tell when he was close. When he was thinking of me. When he was planning something, whether it was with good intentions or not. All of it. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been with the same person for such a long time.
River pipes in from the front. “Can I send him a text?”
A surprised laugh bubbles out of me at his absurd request. “Not a chance in hell would I ever let you touch my phone. That would be a disaster.”
Our eyes connect through the rearview mirror as he laughs at my response. His are crinkled in the corner before they slide down to inspect Gibbs’ hand that is still resting against my knee. I don’t know what it means or why I feel the need to scoot an inch toward my brother beside me, but I do.
Gibson’s hand slides back into his lap while River’s attention snaps back to the winding road in front of us.
“Come on,” he jokes. “I’m a trustworthy guy. Are you hiding nudes on there or something? That why you’re so protective of your cell?”
Milo growls beside me. “Please tell me you’ve never sent a picture of yourself naked to someone.”
“Um…” I let my voice trail off before the car erupts with laughter.
With smoke practically coming out of Milo’s ears, he shivers in disgust then decides, “You know what? Don’t tell me. Keep left at the fork in the road. Let’s get this shit over with.”
“I thought you’d never met her ex?” Gibbs asks, confused as to how Milo would know where I live.
“Milo helped me move into the complex right before I met Ian,” I explain, my earlier amusement dissipating.
“Yeah, which is right around the same time that Reese started bailing anytime we’d try to meet up,” Milo growls. “Isn’t that right, Reese?”
His accusation makes me flinch before Jake, who’s been almost silent during this entire mini road trip, pipes up, “Let it go, man. I think we can all agree Ian is an asshole and wanted to isolate Reese from her friends and family. It’s classic abusive behavior.”
His face is still turned toward the passenger window, but it’s the easy way he said abusive that causes my anxiety to spike all over again.
The low and steady hum of the engine mingles with the silence as we digest the heavy accusation while I search for something to say. But there isn’t any kind of response that will deny what Jake just tossed into the cab of the truck like a live hand grenade. Maybe if I don’t touch it, we might be able to squeak out of here without it detonating.
And I can tell Milo is seconds from exploding.
“It’s, uh…it’s this building on the left,” I mutter to River. His blinker clicks on as he captures my gaze in the rearview mirror a second time. Blinking slowly, he ends our little staring contest then pulls into the parking lot.
River, Jake, and Gibbs open their doors in unison, and I slide a few inches toward the exit Gibbs created when Milo’s order makes me freeze.
“Give us a sec.”
Jake closes his door first, then it’s followed by a heavy slam from River. Gibson doesn’t budge.
“You okay in here?” he asks me. I feel like I can’t breathe but give him a jerky nod anyway.
Hesitantly, he stands to his full height then closes the back door, leaving Milo and me alone in the cab of River’s white truck.
“Tell me the truth,” he mutters when I haven’t moved a muscle.
“Milo––”
“Tell me the truth, Reese.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m done with him. I’m not going back, okay?”
“Am I really that shitty of a brother?”
It’s the self-deprecation in his tone that makes me jerk back. “W-what do you mean?”
“That you felt like you couldn’t come to me? That you couldn’t tell me what the hell was going on?”
Defeated, I rest my head against the leather seat behind me and close my eyes. “It’s not like that…”
“Then tell me what it’s like.”
“Well, for starters, he never hit me. Okay? He was just possessive. And an asshole, which you already know. He would say mean crap, especially when he was drunk, but I never considered him to be abusive until Jake pointed it out two minutes ago.”
And now that he has, I feel like I can’t breathe.
“I should’ve recognized the signs,” Milo rasps. “Jake did. I’m such an asshole––”
“You’re not an asshole, Milo. At all. You’re an incredible brother. The best a girl could ever ask for, I promise. I just…”
He scoffs. “You just what, Reese?”
Eyes clouding with tears, I move my head to his strong shoulder, then wrap my arms around his bicep and squeeze it like he’s my own personal teddy bear. “I just made a mistake, and I didn’t want to make you clean it up for me. Again. Which is exactly what you’re doing right now, so that’s a lot of fun.”
“You know I’m here for you.”
“Of course, I know that. You’ve always been here for me. You’ve always protected me from assholes. Like Dad. And Mom. You’ve always been the one to put yourself between the monsters and your baby sister. Not that Ian is a monster. He’s just…a mistake that I want to leave in the past. But now I’m starting to wonder if I’m the problem. If I’m just going to attract another rotten apple, ya know? If I’m asking for it.”
“Reese––”
“I know. I know that’s the wrong mentality. I know that I shouldn’t beat myself up, but I can’t help it. I’m a big girl, yet I feel like my life is falling apart. And who do I run to? My big brother. You shouldn’t have to be the one that rides in on his white horse to save the day. That shouldn’t be your job anymore.”
“Bullshit, it shouldn’t,” he argues. I can practically feel his blood boiling beneath his tattooed skin.
“Look,” I choke out. “Just because I believe you shouldn’t have to be responsible for me anymore doesn’t mean I’ve ever questioned if you’d be there for me if I ever needed you. And yesterday, I needed you. Thank you for letting me stay at your place. Thank you for coming with me to pick up my stuff. Thank you for being the best freaking brother a girl could ever ask for. I’m sorry that I let Ian affect our relationship. That I didn’t make it a priority when it’s so much more important than the one I had with him.”