And that’s all I really want, honestly. To make the old man proud of me—it’s all any of his children fucking wanted. As one of the last three standing, I plan on following through with the promise I made him. I’ll be the one that makes him proud.
I walk excitedly into the kitchen where Sky is fixing us some lunch, a small pep in my step, and feeling like the best brother in the world. She’ll be so happy to know that I finally got a good lead on where our little sister might be, and that I want her to go into town with me to see if we can find her.
Dad always left us behind, but that’s not the kind of husband I want to be. I want us to be together all the time—even though I know it’s a burden to be around someone who loves as deeply as I do, I just hate the thought of being apart from my sisters for longer than I have to be.
And I’ve been away from Cleo for far too long—we both have.
“Guess what, Sky?” I ask when I enter the kitchen. She glances at me quickly to let me know that I have her attention, and as I reach into the fridge for a bottle of beer, I suddenly find myself wondering if she’ll be as happy as I am about the ‘good news.’
After all, she did say that Cleo might be better off wherever she is, but I don’t think she really believes that.
“Well,” I press with a nervous laugh. “Guess!”
She clears her throat and turns to face me, one hand still stirring the pot on the stove while the other finds its place on her hip. I remember times when Mom used to look at us like that. She would always ask us to tell her stories of what we would do outside, but she told us to make things up. Not to lie to her per se, but to encourage us to make up worlds outside of the only life we knew.
And she would stand just like the way Sky is standing now.
“I don’t know,” she finally replies quietly.
I do my best not to let my face crumple into a mask of disappointment. The way she is now—the bitterness, the resentment, the doing her best to make sure she doesn’t end up in bed with me—it’s my fault for not knowing how to do this right.
There are some days where I wish that Dad was still alive. He’d be able to show me, and I learn things easier if I can see them instead of being told.
I guess it’s why I never really did well when Mom would quiz us on our studies, I think with a rueful smile.
But I decide that if I keep the mood in the kitchen as upbeat as I felt when I found the information I was looking for, then maybe she’ll share in my excitement too.
“I think I found our little sister.”
Three
Bryden
This house runs so much smoother than it did years ago. Back when I still had Marian here, and Ella, and Wesley. I never hated them, I never really wanted to be without them—but a family is such a precious thing. It’s delicate, sensitive, and… well, they just stopped trying.
Having a good family, a loving, happy family, takes work. I’ve always been the one willing to put in that work, and it’s my love that has carried each and every one of my children over the years.
I built this family out of the wreckage of mine and Marian’s histories, I keep this family on course, and it’s been worth every single trial and tribulation.
Even though Ella and Wesley were never the same after the day their mama died, Ella still gave me three beautiful children. Two girls, Tristan and my Xoe, and then Damon. He’d been a sweet boy until he just stopped trying too. But Tristan… she’d been tainted by her mama. Too old the day Wesley decided to finally try and unseat me as head of this family—but he’d failed. I’d always known he would, and I’d secretly hoped each night that he’d wait a little longer to try and ruin our growing family. Twenty-one was too young to get put in the ground.
And after her brother was gone, Ella had just fallen apart. I’d caught her whispering terrible things to Tristan, to my little girl. The chain and the closet obviously hadn’t been enough of a punishment to remind her of my rules, my expectations, because then she’d come at me too. Woke me up with a knife to my throat, so much like her mama, and she’d gone out the same way. Sweetly, gently, with my hands around her throat. With me reminding her that I loved her but that I wouldn’t let her ruin our family. It was simply time for her to go and be with her brother and mama.
But I know it was the shit she whispered to Tristan that made the girl eventually rebel. She never came to my room joyfully, and I don’t think she ever loved our children—not really. But I’d hoped she’d understand some day. I’d given her so many chances, but when I found her packing a bag for the two she’d birthed… well, she had to go in the ground too. Buried right next to her mama, and maybe her father too. I never stressed much over whether it was me or Wesley who put those seeds in Ella’s belly, because Wesley was my blood too.
But Xoe.
My sweet Xoe.
She is definitely mine. Marian’s blonde hair, but my eyes, my spirit, my complete dedication to keeping this family together. She loves me more
