Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
He doesn’t want me here. He told me not to come around ever again.
I know I’m not the best brother. In fact, I think I might be the worst. I’m an asshole by default and really fucking selfish. I’m nowhere near as good at this as CJ is and always has been, but I want to be better.
I want to be just like him. I think I always have.
And then I laugh until tears fill my eyes because the idea of me being a cop is the funniest thing to me.
But maybe, it isn’t?
Maybe if I stay sober and keep going to meetings and quit being such a fucking prick to everyone, my brother especially, maybe then I can have an actual career again, and would being a cop be so bad?
I could arrest the dealers instead of keeping them in business.
How fucking great does that sound?
And then I’d finally feel like I have a purpose, because I haven’t felt that way since I left South Carolina, and I know that hasn’t helped my sobriety.
That construction job was always temporary to me, so maybe Reed did me a favor.
Now I can focus on everything I need to do to get me ready for that physical fitness test, and maybe CJ will help me train just like I did for him. I bet he will.
I just need to get out of the car and start apologizing.
But fuck, I’m nervous and worried he won’t hear me out. I’ve basically been a dick to him since I got here and for half of our entire lives. He doesn’t owe me anything.
And I feel like I’m risking everything getting out of the car, and I don’t understand why, but I think maybe CJ has been waiting for me to do this, because the front door swings open when I’m halfway up the driveway, and then my brother steps out of the house, and even though he looks half asleep and almost as angry as the last time I saw him, he looks relieved too.
Because I’m here, hanging on by a fraying thread, but still standing.
He knows I’m sober.
“Hey,” I say, stopping on the path that leads to the porch and giving us a few feet of space.
CJ takes a seat on the step and hunches forward, elbows planted on his knees, and watches me crack all my knuckles before finally saying, “Reed called.”
I shrug, expecting that. “He fired me.”
“No, he didn’t. You got laid off.”
“That’s basically the same thing.”
“No. It fucking isn’t, and you know it isn’t. He’ll hire you back on when their jobs pick up.”
“Yeah. I doubt that. I basically told him to go fuck himself.”
“I heard.”
CJ shakes his head, closes his eyes, and thinks about his next words before giving them to me.
I stand there and wait, and I feel a little sick now.
“When are you going to grow up, Jake?” he asks, and my head starts to pound and pound. “You still act like that little entitled dickhead I arrested… what, seven years ago? Do you remember that day?”
“Of course I do,” I scoff. “It was fucking awful.”
“Yeah. It was awful for me. Because I had to treat you like a criminal and forget who you were to me, and man, I fucking hated you for that.”
I swallow bile as it crawls up my throat. “I know. CJ, I know, and I’m sorry. But that’s kind of why I’m here—”
“I’ve tried hating you a lot over the years, Jake,” CJ says, acting like he doesn’t hear me. “And I keep thinking, you know, maybe if he knows I hate him, maybe then he’ll understand what he’s doing to me every time he uses, and he’ll finally stop trying to take my brother from me.”
My eyes start to water, and everything is so blurry now. I can barely see.
“CJ.”
“Because everything else I do, none of it works. None of it. I’ve tried getting you help. I’ve loved you. I’ve begged you. I’ve fucking arrested you. But you’re too fucking selfish. You love getting high more than anything and anyone, and you don’t care that this will kill me. If anything happens to you, it will fucking kill me, Jake. Why doesn’t that stop you?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, and my voice sounds so strange inside my head. It echoes.
“I don’t know how to help you. I’ve tried. I’ve tried, and I can’t… I don’t know what else to do.”
“What do you mean?” I take a step closer, but I don’t move at all. “Look at me. I’m right here, CJ. I’m okay.”
“I love you,” he says, getting to his feet.
And I can’t breathe.
I don’t understand why I can’t breathe now.
“I love you, but I’m going to hate you for this, Jake. I really am.”
CJ’s words sink inside my head and make my brain burn like they’re made of acid, and I don’t see him walk back inside the house because everything is still so fuzzy. I can’t stop crying, I can’t. And CJ disappears so quickly, I don’t know if he was ever really there.