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He didn't want my family, Marcos wanted me.

I thought Zander knew that, I expected him to understand. But he never did.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I dragged them down my face and stared out the window. I never planned on going back; not if I didn't have to.

Miles had been put between us for a good reason.

I couldn't promise to keep them safe if I was there. I couldn't be sure the crew wouldn't find out and come seeking revenge. I wasn't even sure they ever stopped looking for me.

Not that any of that mattered, because my family wanted nothing to do with me anyway. My father told me I was dead to him, that I was a disgrace and he never wanted to see my face again. My mother looked at me like I wasn't her son, like I had been replaced by some vile creature she didn't recognize.

The rumors had spread and I could see it in her eyes that she wasn't sure anymore about me. Nothing hurt more than that, it stabbed my heart like a serrated blade.

She doubted me. And I couldn't blame her for it.

I had lied to her over and over again about what I was doing for work and where I had been. When the truth came out, everything changed between us.

Was it worth the risk to go back?

He's your little brother! If he needs you, you should be there!

Zander was family, that was all that mattered. Because that's what big brothers do, they take the high road and help the ones they love. . .

I'm helping them by not being there. I'm saving them by staying away.

What the hell do I do?

* * * *

The car idled quietlyin the driveway, and I stared up at my parents new home. It took me a little while to find it, having to go off bad directions from my grandmother.

Biting my lower lip, I contemplated just turning around and leaving. I wasn't sure how being there was going to help anyone.

Fuck, why did I do this?!

You know why; Zander needs you.

He's the one I'm here for.

Turning off the car, I climbed out, sinking my feet into the dirt driveway. Standing with my hands in my pockets, my face was blocked by my hood, just to keep a certain level of protection to my identity.

Looking around, I didn't see anything that seemed out of place, there was nothing but trees for miles in every direction. There were no strange cars parked on the road when I drove in, no random people trolling the sidewalk.

But I still felt frozen in place, afraid that there were eyes lurking in the shadows. I had driven around for over an hour already just to be sure no one was following me.

It's been a little while now, they're not expecting me to come back.

Pushing all the air out of my lungs, I jogged up the steps, and tapped the back door with my knuckles as I opened it. “Hello? Is anyone around?”

Stepping inside, I glanced around the entrance. The same small bench my mom had in the house I grew up in was set against the wall on my left, with Franco's shoes tucked all neatly underneath. The wall was lined with portraits of my brother and I when we were kids. A poorly designed wood key holder I had made in junior high shop class was pinned to the wall above the long seat.

They didn't erase me completely.

Taking in a deep breath, I could smell my mother's sunflower scented candles that she insisted on using every day. It was strange, the smell of the air was soothing and up-heaving my nerves all at once.

My muscles twitched with anxiety, fingers shaking subtly by my sides as I did my best to control my body. Being here was enough to get them all killed, and yet I put their safety aside to try and help my brother.

God I hope no one saw me.