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It wasn't right, none of it was. But maybe if he had loved me better, if he hadn't treated me like I was beneath him, like his blood born child was a gift and I was just a burden; maybe I wouldn't have looked for acceptance elsewhere.

You can't blame him for all of it. . . You made your own choices.

“Porter, we don't need to bicker over the shit you and I will never agree on. You did what you did, that's the end of it. Your brother is dead and it's all your fault. Why don't you just go, leave now before you cause any more problems.”

Drawing my lips taut, I inched my way closer to my father, bringing us chest to chest. “Don't you dare try and put this on me. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere. Mom needs me, so I'm not leaving.” Leaning into his ear, I spoke clear and firm. “I will always be a part of this family, you can't change that. You never could change that.”

Leaning back, a part of me wanted to turn and walk out that door, leaving him to drown in his own alcohol-induced hatred. I didn't need him to remind me of what I had done, I did that to myself every damn day already.

Taking in a deep breath, his nostrils flared wide, eyes cutting into my soul. “You left us, that was your choice. You could have stayed and done the right thing, stood tall and faced the executioner like a real man. Instead, you abandoned your family, your brother got killed, and your mother is a fucking mess.”

The right thing?!

Where was he when I needed him?!

When I went to him for help he told me to get fucked. When I asked him for advice on what I should do, he told me I wasn't his son and he didn't care.

“Are you fucking serious? Don't you dare start throwing out shit about doing the right thing! You gave up on me long before all that shit went down.”

“Shh.” he quietly said, holding his finger to his lips. “Your mother doesn't need us arguing, not right now.” Stroking his chin, he rocked his jaw. “You're only a part of this family because your mother can't let you go. But just because you left doesn't mean you're a changed man, Porter. I know what you became, I know what those fucking pricks created. You mean nothing to me anymore.”

“When did I ever? You've always hated me, why don't you just admit it?”

As much as I tried to not think about it, I couldn't ignore the fact that I was a heartless monster, and nothing I had done was able to fix that. The distance, the time I spent trying to rebuild myself as someone else; I remained empty and cold.

For so long I blamed who I was on him. That was wrong. I made my own choices, I decided to climb the wall and drop in on the other side. My father might have laid the tracks, but I climbed on the train.

How could I blame him for the choices I made? It wasn't until I abandoned my family and left to fend for myself, that I saw the real man behind the mask.

Children are malleable, you can mold them into anything you want. Marcos had groomed a killer, taking me in and giving me everything I thought I was missing from my father. I thought he cared for me. I thought he saw me like a son.

I was so fucking stupid.

And when it was over, I went looking for something that I would never find. I searched for a new home, a new life, a new me. . . but I realized fairly early that I was out there searching for something that didn't exist; I didn't fit in this world.

There was no such place, not for me. I was tarnished, crafted into a machine that was meant for destruction. I couldn't find happiness when I had no clue what the fuck it looked like.

A small flicker of guilt gnawed at my gut, making me wish I had never left. Guilt for not ever picking up the phone to call my brother, guilt for not being there to protect him. Maybe if I had been there things would be different. . . maybe he wouldn't be gone and my mother wouldn't be suffering the way she was.

We never stopped being brothers even though I stopped being his. Dead at eighteen years old, he hadn't even had the chance to start his life yet.

It was time for me to do something for him. It was time for me to step back into this family, if only for a little while.

I know what I need to do.

My mind was made up. My brother was dead and nothing would ever bring him back.

I'm going to make this right.

I'm coming home.