Page 129 of Always Love You More

I lay my hand out on the table in front of me and suck in a breath as I set my palm down flat against the wood.

Luke quickly glances away, like he can’t stomach to see what I’ve done to myself, and pops open the first-aid kit. “Get some ice,” he says to Billy.

Silently, he begins working on my hand. I’m glad he doesn’t push for a conversation.

Billy comes back with the ice and moves to my other side.

Minutes tick by as I sit between the two of them, trying not to let my mind wander. Trying not to think about how I’m going to get through this. All that’s waiting for me on the other side of today.

“You feel any better?” Luke asks once he’s finished wrapping my hand.

“Guess so,” I lie.

“It’ll get easier,” he says. “Time heals and all that shit.”

“Yeah.” I nod, trying to give him something, that sense of delusional hope he tried to feed me earlier. “I know.”

He looks relieved at my acceptance, but all I can think about is: how much time does it take to heal from a lifetime of pain?

And when do you begin to heal if you’re still in the trenches? Does the clock keep resetting each time another fucked-up thing happens? Because, if that’s the case …

I don’t think I’ll ever outrun the clock.

Chapter 30

Sam

It’sbeenjustoverthree months without my brother.

My world is emptier.

My house is missing the person who made it a home.

And even my good days are never as good as they once were.

But the world keeps turning.

It’s weird how that works. How, when your world seems to end, the world around you still carries on all the same.

I’ve been doing better, at least on the outside, but a lot has changed in these last few months. I went back to school a week after it happened. It helped to have Jameson and Billy there with me. The funerals went by in a blur. Cathleen came and stayed with us for a few days before she had to go back home for work. While she was with us, she dropped the bomb that she’s pregnant.

Luke had to let me go from the garage. Without the money coming in from Levi’s dealings, he couldn’t afford to pay meanymore. I got a job as a waitress, working all the hours I can get. Without the money Johnny brought home, we desperately need the check.

My father fell on a construction job a couple months ago, so at least his disability will be steady for a bit. I knew where Johnny kept his money and found a few thousand dollars hidden in his secret spot. Still, things have been tight.

Carson isn’t working, even though we’re barely getting by. He just committed to play quarterback at Auburn. Most of the top schools want him, but he wants a chance to start as a freshman. Him and my father think that if he plays well his first year and gets the attention that comes with it, he’ll have NIL money rolling in.

So, I’m the only one in the house who works. And yes, it pisses me off, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

Jameson has been working any chance he can get, too. Luke couldn’t pay him anymore either, so he’s been taking odd jobs, mostly construction. He also found some money in a safe, so he’s had that to lean on.

Marcus has been trying to pressure him to get back to the work his father had him doing, but I’ve begged him not to go down that road.

He told me he won’t. I think he’s scared of what could happen if he does, too. But, honestly, I don’t know how long it’ll stick.

His mother has been a mess. She barely leaves her room, and when she does, she’s not much of a help. He’s the only one providing for them, and I can see the pressure starting to take hold of him. More than once, he’s come to my window bruised or bloodied. Sometimes, he doesn’t come at all, and I just find him that way in the morning before school. He says he’s fighting for the money, but I know it’s more than that. It’s his way of escaping the noise inside his head.

At first, I tried to stop him, worried that he wouldn’t be the one who walks away on top one of these times, that he’ll be left with more than some cuts and bruises. But I can’t really judge him for having a destructive habit, a fucked-up coping mechanism that keeps him sane. Not when I’m doing the same thing.