Page 97 of Structure of Love
Friday dawned with feeling. At least, I was in my feelings. I had a lot of them duking it out in my chest this morning. Relief about Erin being able to finally cut ties and live freely. Anger at my parents because it had come to this. Trepidation, wondering if they’d make life difficult for a while in order to get Erin back. No part of me wanted to deal with my parents, but for my baby sister, I absolutely would.
Andrew, our eldest brother, was on standby. He lived in Ohio but would come immediately if Erin didn’t feel she could safely live with me. We all wanted her to stay in Plymouth, to graduate with her friends, but Erin was ready to jump ship if it came down to it.
Gage insisted on coming with me, to act as moral support, which I absolutely would not turn down.
I was immensely thankful Zar was cued up and ready to come as well. It put a safety barrier on a situation rife with potential conflict.
Erin’s birthday party was set for noon. I arrived at one o’clock sharp, at her request, because Erin claimed gettingthrough cake and presents with our parents was the best she could do. She was out of patience with them, and this party was her parting gift to them.
Gage had driven us here. He pulled into the driveway and asked, “I see birthday signs up in the yard, but where’s the people?”
“Erin warned everyone not to come here, but to show up at my house later. She didn’t want an audience for the inevitable drama.”
“Smart. It’s going to be bad enough with just me, Zar, and Madison in attendance.”
He was unfortunately very right on that account. While I hoped to get out of here without hands being thrown, I also wasn’t holding my breath.
Seriously glad I’d told everyone I wasn’t going to be available at the bar today. I was so jittery, working would have been impossible.
My parents had gone all out with decorations, and I wasn’t just referring to the big yard sign. There were streamers decorating the outside of the house and there was another sign in the window announcing Erin had hit eighteen. I felt something lurch in my chest. I was used to my parents not giving two fucks about their sons—I’d made peace with it not being my fault—but seeing how much effort they’d put into their daughter’s birthday when I’d barely gotten a cake some years was…hard.
I sucked in a breath, held it, blew it out. Counted to ten. Gathered myself mentally to go in there after my baby sister. Because no matter how I felt, I wasn’t leaving Erin in that hell any longer.
Gage clocked my reaction, and his hand reached for mine. I tangled our fingers together, fiercely glad he was here beside me. He reminded me that, from now on, I’d always be properlycelebrated. He’d make damn sure of it. Knowing this gave me the strength to get out of the truck.
My door was barely open when a patrol SUV pulled up and parked on the curb. It wasn’t Zar who initially got out, but a very tall and athletic looking woman. Ah, Madison. Zar was quick to follow, though, from the driver’s side.
“Hi, Logan.”
“Hi, Madison, thanks for coming.” Yes, I still had that nervous jump start in my system when I saw a cop. Too many years as a troubled teen, I guessed, where cops weren’t a good sign. She wasn’t here for me. Hear that, heart? She’s not here for me. Calm the fuck down. It helped I considered both of them to be friends now after Asher’s birthday party.
“Sorry about dragging you into this.”
“Naw, you’re protecting a sister, I’m good with that. Your parents are homophobes, correct? Is that going to be an issue today?”
“Erin plans to tell them so they’ll want to disown her. I have to say, I give it even odds of working? They’re severely homophobic. They’ll try to convince her she’s wrong first.” They’d done that with me, at least. Sorta. “If she can convince them, then they’re more likely to disown her.”
She stared at me for a long moment. “I didn’t expect anything good since you’d called in a favor, but eight-pound baby Jesus, this is insane. What the fuck is wrong with your parents?”
“We’ve got a list as long as your arm going.”
“Sounds like it. Christ. Well, let’s get this over with.”
Only way out was through, as the saying went.
I approached the front door, calling out for Erin.
She answered but only said, “I’m coming out!”
“Got it!”
I’d rather not enter the house, and if that ended up with a screaming match in the front yard for all the neighbors to see, oh well. The drama llamas would be entertained, at least.
Erin was good to her word. She was out the door ten seconds later, a backpack on and a duffel bag in her hands. She wasn’t taking much of anything with her, but then again, she’d never been allowed to choose anything of her own taste. I’d bet the backpack was filled with school stuff, with the duffel bag holding anything sentimental. She wasn’t even bringing her laptop or phone. All of us brothers had chipped in to replace them, as she didn’t want our parents tracking her through them or trying to turn on parental controls or something.
Paranoid? Maybe, but I understood her caution.
She had this expression—part disgust, part relief. I figured the disgust was because our mother had squeezed her into this fluffy ballgown sort of dress for the party. Erin was likely to burn the thing later. I’d help by supplying matches.