Page 18 of Wherever You Are

Where I envisioned my fist pounding his face.

But at the end of it all, I don’t want a single living soul to feel the pain that I’ve felt.

Not even them.

I just want it to stop.

“I won’t,” he says, and after everything, I believe him. “Give me your phone. I’ll go get your hard drive now.”

I pass him my cell.

“What about your parents?” Lo asks. “Do they know?”

Goosebumps crawl along my arms, cold all of a sudden, but it’s easier to talk. “I’ve told my mom, but she just says it’sboys being boys…” I pause. “And my dad likes Davis the best. They don’t care about anything except making money, and ever since I got a job with Cobalt Inc., they stopped hounding me about ‘doing something with my life.’ If I never checked in, never returned their calls, they’d just think I was too busy for them, and they’d probably beproud.”

“Huh,” he says, frowning. “They sound like dicks.”

I choke out a laugh. “Yeah, they are.”

He scrolls through my contacts. I have shit emojis next to each of my brother’s names, which Lo can definitely see. His lips pull down, and I’m just glad that I didn’t have to paint vivid portraits of all the crap they’ve done over the years for Lo to believe me.

He just did.

With our backs to the cabinets, he presses the phone to his ear, so I can’t hear. It’s better that way.

Lo’s eyes flit to me. “Will they answer?”

I nod. “And miss an opportunity to pick on me?”

He glares off in the distance. My knees bounce a little, watching him. Waiting.

Someone must answer because Lo says, “This is Loren Hale, from down the street.” He pauses and then says, “Garrison left his hard drive at your parent’s place. He really needs it soon. Can you swing by and drop it in my mailbox?”

That’s a good idea—better. That way Lo doesn’t even have to confront them. Weight releases off my taut shoulders in an instant. Pressure evaporating from my chest, and I breathe easier and lean back with less tension.

Lo cups a hand over the cell and looks to me. “Where’s the thing?”

“Basement table.”

He puts the phone back to his ear. “Basement table.” There’s a long silence, and I don’t know if one of my brothers is talking or if it’s just dead quiet on the line.

Truth: I don’t care.

I’m just glad I’m not the one with the phone in my hand.

“Do you want to say something?” Lo asks my brother.

I pick at the ripped hole in my jeans. They want to talk to me? My stomach twists again.Stop.

“Yep,” Lo says on the phone, grinding his teeth. Like he tries not to lash out. He’d probably eviscerate my brothers with his words if I wasn’t sitting here. But I think he’s trying to be nonconfrontational…for me.

That means something.

Lo’s eyes redden, and his glare intensifies on the cupboards. “Sure.” He hangs up and lets out a heavy breath he’d been caging. He tosses me the phone.

“What’d he say?” I ask.

“He’ll drop it in my mailbox. He’s sorry, and he thinks you never speaking to all of them is a good idea.” Lo shakes his head, confusion cinching his brows. Maybe he’s wondering how easily my brother could let me go. But I get it.