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jackson

I called Mickey for help when Peter didn’t answer the phone. I didn’t know what else to do—who else to call. By the time his truck pulled into my drive, West’s screaming had stopped. He was completely unmoving in the grass, curled up on his side. Every now and then he let out a small whimper of pain but that was it.

I didn’t dare touch him. I was terrified I’d kickstart his panic all over again. But I paced. I paced my lawn as my mind ran rampant with a million unfinished thoughts.

“Tell me what happened, boy,” Mickey said as he hobbled over.

“I don’t… I don’t fucking know,” I rambled. I ran a hand through my hair, my brain struggling to catch up. “One minute I’m talking to him and the next minute, he’s just… he would’ve fucking killed me, Mick—he wouldn’t have meant it! He wouldn’t have fucking meant it. He just wasn’t… he wasn’t here, you know?”

“Breathe, Jackson,” he ordered. Was I panicking? Was this what panicking was like? Fuck, my heart was beating so damn hard against my ribcage. When Mickey’s hand touched my cheek, I pulled away .

“I’m fine! I’m fucking fine, okay?” I snapped. “But I just… I don’t know how to help him. I don’t know what I’m doing! I don’t know how to get him off my fucking lawn!”

“Did he hit you?” Mickey asked.

“He didn’t mean it,” I replied all too quickly.

“I didn’t ask if the boy wanted to hit you,” he said. “I’m askin’ if that’s where the split lip came from.”

Right. I brushed my thumb over my bottom lip and winced at the twinge of pain. I’d forgotten about that.

“He didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

“He was just… I don’t know what fucking happened, Mickey. It was like the bar all over again,” I told him. He made a small sound but said nothing else. “What do I do, Mickey? How do I help him? How do I fix this?”

“Just leave him, Jackson,” Mickey told me. “The boy is used to sleepin’ anywhere anyways. You go inside and you take care of you. That’s all you can do.”

“There’s got to be more that I can do,” I said. I needed there to be more. I needed to know I could fix this for West—take away whatever pain made him like this.

“You know you can’t do that,” he replied as if reading my mind. “That boy has to bear the weight of his demons. You can’t take that from him no matter how hard you love him.”

My gaze flicked in his direction quick enough to make him chuckle.

“I ain’t no idiot, boy. I see what’s between you two.” I should’ve seen that coming. “But you need to know, West’s demons are his own. There ain’t a damn thing you can do but love him.”

“What if it’s not enough?” I asked quietly.

“It ain’t goin’ to be,” Mickey answered a little too honestly. “You’re goin’ to love him hard, but it ain’t goin’ to be enough to win this fight for him. It’s somethin’ he’s got to do for himself. All on his own.”

“I hate that.”

“I know, Jackson. Me too.”

A shred of anger flared inside me, and I bit back a mean comment. All I wanted to do was yell at him for not doing more when West was a kid—for not saving him from this future. If someone— anyone —had done more, he could’ve been spared this hell.

“Good night, Mickey,” I managed to say instead. If I said more, I’d rip him a fucking new one.

“Want me to handle everythin’ in the mornin’?”

“Please,” I whispered.

“You just keep me updated on how he’s doin’, okay? Leave everythin’ else to me,” he said, and I nodded. “And you take care of you too, Jackson, you hear me?”

Again, I just nodded. I didn’t have it in me to say anything more. I waited until the lights on Mickey’s truck were gone and down the road before I moved. I didn’t give a fuck what Mickey said. I wasn’t leaving West out there alone. Grabbing a pillow for me and a blanket for West, I stormed right back outside. Fuck everything else.

Chancing more chaos, I gently spread the blanket over West. He flinched and curled into himself further but that was it. Knowing full well I’d need to be peeled off the fucking ground in the morning, I settled down next to him—close enough to be there if he needed me, far enough not to invade his space.

And somewhere in the middle of the night, his fingers found their way across that distance and found their home over my pulse.