“They aren’t my baby sister,” I hissed.
“Neither am I!” Casey spun to me, her freshly washed hands spraying drops of cold water. “I’m not a baby, Laila! I can take care of myself. I don’t need you always pushing your agenda on me. Fucking hell. And here I was thinking tonight was… I don’t know. Forget it.”
“Say it.”
“No.” She lifted her chin.
Lexi chuckled. “Predictable. As soon as shit gets hard, she clams up.”
I rounded on Lexi. “Lexi, go home.”
Lexi held up both hands. “I’m sorry, it just came out. I didn’t mean it. I’ll mind my own business.”
“Go home, Lexi. I mean it. Clear your head. I’ll ask Storm to take me and Casey home. I’m done with tonight. I’m done with both of you. Casey, move your ass. We’re leaving.”
CHAPTER 23
STORM
Rain pattered on the windshield of my car and danced through the beam of my headlights. I’d parked at the curb outside Laila and Casey’s father’s house about fifteen minutes ago after the blow-out fight the sisters had at the after party. When things began to escalate, I gently guided Laila toward the exit while reminding her that there were a lot of people who would take great interest in such a personal situation. She thanked me with a tight-lipped smile and held her tongue until we got into my car, where she twisted around in the passenger seat like the exorcist and spat venomous words at her sister.
To say she was furious would be an understatement. Her fury kept me quiet behind the wheel, and she only spoke to me to tell me where to turn.
Casey seemed completely unbothered by Laila’s wrath. She sat in the backseat directly behind me, arms crossed, eyes fixed on everything passing us by outside. Laila tried everything under the sun to get her to talk, but Casey was a stubborn one, and she was either unfazed by Laila’s desperation or she didn’t want to talk in front of me. I could understand that.
After pulling over outside their father’s one-story home with a red shingle roof, Laila asked me to wait for her.
I told her to take her time.
The rain started coming down harder. Through the downpour, I could see movement in the living-room window of the house through sheer curtains. The light was on, and whatever was going on in there looked animated—the three people inside made big gestures with their arms. I imagined there would be some raised voices.
Sighing, I turned on the radio, dialed to a station with a good song, rested my head against the seat, and closed my eyes.
I would wait however long Laila needed me to wait.
When she opened the passenger door twenty or so minutes later and slammed it closed, I woke from a nap I hadn’t meant to take. Sitting up straight and rubbing at my eyes, I apologized for passing out on her.
“I took longer than I should have.” Laila didn’t look at me as she put on her seatbelt. “Thank you for waiting for me.”
“I’m sorry the night went so sideways.”
“Me too.”
“Can I take you home?”
She nodded and wiped at her eyes. Only then did I notice she was holding back tears.
Shit. “Laila.”
“I’m fine.”
You’re not fine.
She wasn’t ready to talk, so I didn’t push her. I put the car in drive, turned on the windshield wipers, and pulled away from the curb. Laila sniffled beside me and stared out the window. When we were ten or so minutes from her apartment, she cleared her throat.
“Casey is always pulling stunts like this. I don’t know why I ever expect her to be anything other than what she is. I don’t know how to help her anymore.” Laila wiped at her eyes again as silent tears fell. “I’m her big sister. I’m supposed to be the one to help her, but every time I try, she pushes me farther away until she needs her next handout. She’ll use me until I’m all dried up, and then when things fall apart like this, she’ll go running back to her shitty friends and her shitty jobs. Sometimes I wonder if she likes all the drama and the trouble.”
I palmed the wheel and took a right-hand turn. “Maybe she does. You’re two very different people.”
“We didn’t used to be.”
“You can’t save someone from something they want, Laila. Casey has to make the choice for herself that she’s done.”
Laila finally looked at me. Her hazel eyes appeared more green through her tears. “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
“I am.”
Laila fidgeted with the small purse in her lap. It hardly seemed big enough to be considered a purse at all. I doubted it had room for more than her lipstick, phone, and ID. “Your dad?”
Of course she would know.
I nodded. “He was a massive alcoholic. He drank on the job for decades because he couldn’t function without it. As a kid I didn’t understand it. All I knew was my old man always had foul breath and he always carried his silver flask in the inside pocket of his jackets. When I was old enough, probably twenty or so, I tried to get him help. I tried to help him see the damage he was doing to his own body and all the people around him, mostly my mother.” I hadn’t talked to anyone about this in ages. The last time I addressed my old man’s drinking problem in detail had been a late night at Guillermo’s restaurant shortly after a fight with my father over this very issue. Guillermo had given me the advice I just gave Laila. A person can’t change their behavior unless they want to. Unless they’ve had enough. “My father lashed out at me. He didn’t want to change. He hated me for talking about it. Admittedly, I should have known that if he were to ever accept help, it wouldn’t be from me.”
“Why? You’re his only son. Were his only son. Sorry.”
“I was, and I wasn’t the son he wanted or thought he deserved. That’s the short of it.”
“And the long of it?”
I chuckled. “You’re persistent.”
“I need a distraction.”
“At the expense of my pain? Very well, your majesty.”
Laila smiled through her tears, and that was enough to keep me talking.
“My dad was born into money, just like me,” I explained. “His grandfather started Thornton Enterprises, but it was his father who turned the business into the money-making machine it is now. My father idolized his old man. He would do anything and everything that was asked of him. He had his eye on the CEO position since he was a teenager, and he wanted that life more than he wanted anything else. He saw the limitless potential with the money and the lifestyle, and he went for it. He got the job, the estate, the women, and the fast cars. And he got all the other shit that came with it. Addictions, loss of real connections with good people, he lost his empathy. At least, that’s what my mother said happened to him. She claimed every now and then that she’d see glimpses of the man she fell in love with, like on Christmas morning after his second or third drink when he started to feel like himself. He always managed to behave on holidays. But the other three hundred and forty something days of the year? He was a jackass.”
Laila reached over and put her hand on my thigh. “I’m sure he loved you in his own way, Storm. Maybe he just didn’t know how to show it. When people lose their way and become toxic, they forget that they were made by the people around them.”