Addicted After All(53)

“Hey,” he says while I take a seat on a wooden chair that faces his bed.

I’m not surprised that he’s awake. If anyone has a f*cked up internal clock, it’s my older brother. He’ll alternate between 5 a.m. mornings to 5 a.m. nights, depending on who needs his help and if he’s going climbing.

I rest my forearms on my thighs, slightly hunched. My fingers vibrate, and my leg jostles more than I like. I rub my lips, but it’s clear that he sees my anxiety.

I let out another breath and look up at him. He has his arms on his bent knees, and my eyes fall to the paperback, loosely hanging by his fingers, a picture of a bull on the front cover. “What are you reading?”

His eyes flit to the book. “The Sun Also Rises.”

I frown, making out the title from here. “That’s not what it says.”

He tucks the novel away, underneath his pillow. “It’s in Spanish.”

Right. I try to smile but it’s a bitter one. He’s fluent in more languages than I can ever learn. “Is it good?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It’s okay.” He studies my expression for too long, and my gaze drops to my shaking hands.

I breathe out, the strain bursting my lungs. I imagine my non-conformist brother in a suit and tie, pretending to be something he’s not. Entering this bullshit world that he’s purposefully escaped. It’s wrong. And I suddenly say, “I don’t want you to change.” It’s not all selfless. I need him the way that he is.

“You know me,” he says—three words that weren’t true for decades of time. “Do you really think I can f*cking change?”

I never thought he could. “The board will never choose you, you realize that?” I snap, my voice more edged. Remorse twists my face. “Not as you are, I mean.” He curses too much. He’s late to everything, even his own birthday. He shelters his intelligence from every f*cking person—so they just see this aggressive, unfiltered guy. But all of this is why he’s Ryke Meadows and not me, not Connor.

It’s part of why I love him.

“Fuck them, then,” he says. “But I’m still trying.”

He also never gives up.

I’m scared because I always do, in the end. Pitted against each other—I lose. Every time. I put my fingers up to my lips, my palms pressed together. My foot still taps the ground. And I say, “Just give it to me.”

His features darken, and he slides to the edge of the bed, sitting closer to me as his bare feet hit the floor. “No,” he says, one word that tears a f*cking hole inside of me.

“No?” I glare, grinding my teeth. “You don’t even want it.”

“Neither do you,” he refutes. “How many times do I have to f*cking tell you, Lo, that you don’t owe him one f*cking thing?” He points at the door.

I swallow hard. “I’m alive because—”

“Because Dad said yes to keeping you? Decent people don’t use that to blackmail their children. You had no choice in coming into this f*cking world. You should have a choice on what you do with your life afterwards. And he’s taking that away from you.”

I shake my head on impulse, but I catch myself and stop. I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms. He’s taking that choice away from Ryke too.

My brother leans forward. “Lo, please drop out of this. It’s going to make you f*cking sick.”

I tug at the collar of my crew-neck with a cringe. For once, I want to be the strong one. I want to save my brother from this hell. And he’s saying that I’m too weak for it. That I’ll destroy myself before I ever have the chance.

I’d like to believe that I’m better now. But it’s easy to say that I am. It’s harder to prove it. I want to. God I want to. “I think…we’re both in agreement that neither of the girls should take over Hale Co.,” I say.

Ryke nods adamantly.

Lily is about to have a baby. Daisy should be outside or whatever she likes to do. They’re only trying to win this because they know that neither Ryke nor I want to live this life.

And they’re trying to protect us as much as we’re trying to protect them.

I ask, “So why don’t we just work together at the beginning?” If we help each other, then maybe the girls won’t even have a chance. It’s a compromise, but in my mind, I see myself taking more of the burden from him. I will, in the end. I’m going to carry his weight for once. “Us against the girls.”