Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“I apologized for that, Ryder!”
“Fuck that apology! You should’ve never accused me of it in the first fucking place!”
“You stole from Mom!”
“I never fucking stole from her!” My voice, my face, and the sharp finger point he is delivered are all heated. “I never fucking stole from any of you! And don’t think for a minute that shit didn’t cross my mind because it did. It fucking did. It crossed my mind so many times. Every time I wandered back through town. Every time I was anywhere near any of you, I always thought about how easy it would’ve been to take the money you all considered play money and never be caught, but I didn’t.”
His gaze grows the hurt I’m already feeling.
“I could rationalize stealing from Mom and Dad with no effort. They stole so much from me, fucked me up so bad, that yeah… letting me have more of their money whether they consented or not was really the least they could do. But again. I didn’t. I fought those fucking urges by leaving. I’d go a state or two over. Do shit like cash drops and package deliveries to mob bosses when their foot soldiers hadn’t made bail yet. Rather than stealing from you, Noah, the one fucking person in our family who went through spurts where he treated me like I was at least human, like I wasn’t tainting the family name for just being alive, I would run far away. The opposite side of the fucking country. Street race. Underground box. Push myself to some limits so that I could look like you – a raging fucking success – as opposed to being looked down by you.”
More pain unexpectedly pumps through his crystal stare.
“And yeah. I know I’ve been a shitty fucking brother. Done a little property damage when I was too drunk and fucked some of the women you were dating in hopes of marrying someday, because I’m a miserable fucking bastard that needed company, but I would never, and have never fucking stolen from you.”
He gives his blonde hair – another gift from our father – a frustrated ruffle. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, Ryder.”
“Then I ask again, what the fuck did you come here for Derek Noah Collins Jr.?” I belligerently mock with a short shrug. “To stare at the family failure from my latest and greatest holding cell?”
“I-”
“I’ll have you know it’s quite nice.”
“Ry-”
“Actually, everything here from cell block six to the recess room is just sunshine, roses, and unicorns that shit sparkles.”
“For fucks sake, Ryder,” Noah grumbles, giving the side of his forehead a soothing rub. “Why do you have to be so goddamn difficult all the time?”
“Born this way.”
His eyes shut at the snarky retort.
“According to our old man anyway.”
There’s a brief pause that’s followed by a deep exhale, the dropping of his hands to his lap, and his stare relocating to mine. “Do you wanna know how he is?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“That’s too bad because I’m gonna tell your stubborn ass anyway.”
“Then why the fuck did you ask me?”
“He’s got testicular cancer,” Noah announces calmly.
“He’ll buy another pair.”
My brother shakes his head slowly at me, irritation preparing to make an encore appearance. “They started treatment two weeks ago.”
The information doesn’t change my apathetic expression.
“Enrolled him in private therapy sessions.”
I feel bad for that shrink.
“I met with him for dinner last night. Found out some personal things. Turns out he’s got a lot eating at him, Ryder.”
“Tell him to join the fucking club.”
His sigh is heavy, patience dwindling. “He wants to talk with you when you finally get out.”
Feels like a reason to stay in longer.
“Assuming you ever man up and do what it takes to get out.”
“Is that why you’re here? To be the spokesman for our possibly dying, but most likely really just temporarily inconvenienced father? Because I’ll be real with you Noah – you know if you’re willing to disregard your personal policy about never trusting the word of a fucking addict.”
Having his hateful words smashed in his face causes him to rearrange his collar once more.
“You coming here to campaign for a father, son reunion has you wasting more than just gas in your newest Audi. You’re wasting your fucking breath and your time, which you never failed to remind me was super valuable.”
“Look, having a dying father-”
“That’s a stretch, and you know it.”
“-and becoming one does something to a person, Ryder.” His tone is now sharp and less filled with his perfect, overly practiced public speaking skills. “You don’t wanna make amends with Dad, fine. What the fuck ever. That’s your hill to die on.”
“Gladly.”
“However, I can’t keep this…fucked up shit going on between us. More importantly, I don’t want to.” Suddenly, his hands are folded in front of him, thumbs twiddling, a sign true emotion has arrived. “I don’t want my daughter not to know her uncle. I wanna give Shelby the best family I can and believe it or not, dick head, that includes you.”