Chapter 42: Chapter 42: Bad Company

Chapter 42:

Bad Company

"We've already filed the police report," George informed me, scratching his head, "She was found during a routine sweep of an area."

"...Where?" I just couldn't believe my sister was back into drugs, "Was it her usual place?"

"No, that building was torn down a year ago," His tone was full of contempt, "You'd know that if you interacted with anyone..."

"George..." Mother whispered, smacking his leg.

"Well, it's true," George continued defensively, "If he only-"

"Perhaps," Cecelia interrupted, ice in her tone, "Of course, the same could be said of you."

"Excuse me?" George flared up, ready to argue, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Love..." I warned her, "It's fine."

"Is it? He's been quite rude," I could see the muscles in her jaw tighten, "I'm not okay with that."

Reaching a hand up to her cheek, I ran my thumb along her skin. Closing her eyes, she relaxed, taking a deep breath.

"George..." I turned my gaze towards him, trying to pierce him with it, "You and I both know we've tried staying in contact with her. How am I supposed to know every single detail?"

"Maybe if you talked to any of us," He huffed, near pouting.

"Really? And what about you?" I felt the anger rise in my chest, "You throw yourself into your work. When I lived with mom and dad, you were barely around. Do you think sending money is all you have to do?"

"It's more than you do," He retorted, but I saw him wince at my words.

"Maybe, but at least I'm there," I sighed, taking a breath, "I know I'm lazy, but I'm at least there. I was there when Dolores had withdrawal symptoms. I was there when Alana had nightmares. Where were you?"

"I-" George jolted up, ready to defend himself, but I gave him no quarter.

"No, you were out," I rolled over him with my words, finally finding my own voice, "The moment you turned eighteen, you left. You moved out. Even when you were living at home, you were out with friends. Partying. Having the time of your life. Anything to get away from us."

"...That's not fair," George withdrew back into the couch, Esmae wrapping an arm around him, "You also left...always running away."

"To clear my head," I felt Cecelia's skin under my hand, and it calmed me, I remembered those days at the park clearer now, "You also forget, I was in the hospital for a time."

"If you had stayed home that wouldn't-" His words were cut short as my father suddenly stood.

"Enough!" He didn't yell, but that one word held weight enough, "Your sister is dying in the other room, and you two can't get along? Did I somehow go wrong raising you?"

The silence following his words spoke volumes. Mother reached up to him, his fists clenched and trembling. My mother and father argued a lot when we were younger, but with the years came understanding. They loved each other dearly but loved their children more. With reluctance he sat back down.

"Just...talk," He waved his hand, exhausted as he fell back, holding his head.

"Sorry, dad..." I apologized, feeling bad.

"Yeah...sorry, father," George leaned forward on his knees, clasping his hands before him, "Look...I know I left, but when I lived there, I did everything. I tried to be the perfect son while you goofed off..."

"It wasn't that simple," I shook my head, moving my hand from Cecelia's cheek to her hand as I entwined my fingers with hers, "I struggled a lot. I didn't want to. I felt useless. I was useless."

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"That's not entirely true..." George genuinely seemed to believe his words, "I'm just being too harsh. I know you struggle with your mental issues. I just...guess I had a hard time understanding. I still do."

"I know, but..." Letting go of Cecelia, I leaned forward and reached for my brother's hands, "Don't be such a dick, huh?"

Chuckling, he placed one of his hands over mine. His grip was firm, strong. There was a warmth to it. Looking up at me, we locked eyes. There was a connection there.

"I'll try not to, yeah?" He smiled, tired but genuine, "I'm really glad you came."

"I'm glad you told me..." I returned his smile, "I can't know if no one says anything. So...check in every once in a while? You work hard, so...take a break sometimes, yeah?"

"That's what I've been telling him," Esmae chimed in, teasingly poking him in the ribs, "He's a workaholic, but he does love you all. You're his family, he just doesn't know how to show it."

"Hey now...don't tell them all my secrets," George joked, releasing me as he took his wife in his arms, giving her a playful hug.

"I know you worked hard," I told him, leaning back to be enveloped by Cecelia's embrace, "You partied to release stress, but don't act like I did nothing. I was there you know."

"I know," Nodding, he took me in with kind eyes, "Let's bury the hatchet, huh?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," I agreed as Cecelia placed her head against mine, "Now...if our spat is done. Dolores."

"Right..." George adjusted slightly, taking everyone in with a serious look, "She was found barely conscious. We were informed shortly after they brought her in."

The relieved expressions from their sons making up faded from our parents faces. A grim reality settling back in. Mom looked to be on the verge of tears again. Julius shifted in his chair, silent this entire time. I felt like he understood the gravity of the situation.

"How bad was it? You said there were heavy drugs in her system," Running a hand over my face, I tried to gather my thoughts, "Wasn't she clean the last time we heard from her?"

"Yes, but is it really surprising?" George seemed a bit condemning, but I knew he was just as frustrated and confused as us.

"Maybe," I wasn't sure what to think of it, "I truly believed she was trying to get better. Especially for Alana. I mean...what changed?"

No one spoke up as I asked the question. There was a sense of foreboding as the pit of my stomach had that feeling again.

"Guys, what changed?" I repeated, more serious this time.

"Alex...." Esmae tried to speak softly, but my brother held up his hand.

"I'll tell him," His demeanor as he leaned forward once more sent a chill down my spine, "Derek. Derek is what changed."

"...Derek?" The name left my lips like ash, dry and with a bad taste.

"Yeah...She got back together with him," My brother's words were as dry as mine.

The person associated with that name was someone I thought I'd never hear from again. He was abusive and lecherous. Alana had been in danger because of him. I remember that day perfectly. If I hadn't been there, who knows what might have happened.

Everyone knew this very well. I went off on both him and Dolores. He threatened me, but at that time I was better off than I was now. He was the last person I ever fought. My hand itching as I thought of that day. Recent events with those two kids saw my fist find its mark again.

Underneath the bandages Yuriko and Cecelia made me wear, I felt my hand ache. I felt the urge to hit something again. I was out of the room before anyone could stop me, Cecelia and Julius following close behind.

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