Page 53 of Kneeling for Them

“Ow!”he says loudly, rubbing what I hope will become a big-ass bruise.

“Come inside,” I say, suddenly worried about waking up my neighbors.It’s late.My feet are aching after a double shift—cleaning at Dorado Terrace followed by a brutally long shift at Bartleby’s.Kingston sent me a text when I was halfway home on the bus, telling me he was bringing Tommy to my apartment.

And here they are.

Kingston hesitates in the doorway.“I want to give you some privacy,” he says.

But I don’t want him to leave.

“Do you want me to wait out here?”he asks.

“My bedroom?”I say.

“Sure.”

I’m no longer embarrassed at how poor I must seem compared to him.He hasn’t ever made me feel bad about it.

With a nod and a warning look at Tommy, Kingston strides down the hallway like he is completely at ease.

Tommy frowns after him.

I turn to face my brother and punch him again.

“What’d you do that for?”he asks.

“Where the fuck have you been?”I ask.

“Around.Dealing with stuff.”

I roll my eyes.“Oh.Cool.Dealing with stuff.Do you know how many times I called and texted you?”

“Dude, you’re not my mom, E.Chill out.”

“I was worried.You and me, Tommy, we’re all we have.”

He has to feel that, doesn’t he?He can’t just disappear on me like this.My gaze flicks to the empty place in the tiny room, where my keyboard used to sit.

Tommy’s focus follows mine.He doesn’t look surprised as he asks, “Um, what happened to your keyboard?”

“Like you don’t know,” I say.My relief at finding him alive transforms into bitterness.

“I swear,” Tommy says, “I didn’t take your keyboard.”

There aren’t any of his usual tells, the quick glance to the side, the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth.I know when my brother is lying, and right now, he isn’t.

But there’s more to it.I know my brother better than anyone, and I can tell from his face.There’s something he isn’t saying.

I hold his gaze, letting him see I mean fucking business.His blue eyes are hard, determined, but I see the moment he breaks.

“Fine,” he says with a big sigh, “I told the guys about it.I was worried they were going to hurt you, Ella.So I waited until I knew you’d be at work, and then I told them you had the keyboard, okay?”

Even though I expected this, even though I was prepared, it doesn’t take away the tight sensation in my gut, like I’ve just been kicked.My lungs constrict.I can’t look away from Tommy, although I want nothing more than for him to be out of my sight.

He has betrayed me, over and over again, and yet in the name of loving my brother, I keep letting him back into my heart.

“I was so worried about you,” I say, unable to stop the tears rolling down my cheeks.I swipe at them angrily, because the last thing I want right now is to look too emotional.Because this decision, right here, right now, is based in logic.

Someone kicks me, over and over again, whether figuratively or literally, then I need to get that person the fuck out of my life.