Hope (The Virtues #1) Read Free

gave told me that he had no memory of his frantic attempt to contact me. I decided to ease into things.

    “Where’s Dad?” I asked.

    “Ironwood, I think.”

    Siblings always had a shorthand. When we talked about our dad, Nick and I knew that “where” meant what prison. I don’t remember hearing about him being out in the years I’d been away from my hometown, and I didn’t expect that to change.

    After a silence, I got to the point of the visit. “Do you remember calling me?” I tried to make my voice diamond hard, but the quiver was evident.

    Nick gave me the look that foreigners give you when you explain to them they are driving on the wrong side of the road. I could almost see the thought slowly making sense in his tired, abused mind. He finally shook his head.

    My frustration was wearing down the dam holding back my anger, “Goddammit, Nick. What the hell have you done?” I tossed his phone to him. It took an odd bounce off the dirty mattress and clattered onto the floor.

    “I see your dealer is done negotiating.” Back playing the role of the mother. Back to disappointment and anger. Back to the frustration of knowing nothing will change.

    Nick spoke up. His voice was hoarse, and I knew it had been days since he’d left the trailer. “Uh, yeah.” My brother cleared his throat. “I’m in some shit, Hope.” When he looked up, there was a sardonic smile across his face. “Good to see you, though.”

    I stood up, “Yeah, you too. I’m glad you kept the place up.” I headed out of the bedroom. Even with a nose accustomed to terrible medical smells, I had my limits.

    Nick was grabbing for a shirt to throw over his skin and bones body as I left, and he called to me down the hallway. “I think… I think I’ve got this under control. I’m just gonna get out of town for a bit until this money business blows over.”

    He came out into the kitchen, Casper in tow. I was leaning against the wall near the door. Nick reached up to a cabinet, letting a few gnats out. He shut it and turned away, hopefully embarrassed.

    I laughed at what he had become. The dam was broken; my emotions came pouring out over top of it. “ ‘Blows over?’ This dealer doesn’t seem like the type to let things ‘blow over,’ and besides, it isn’t like you insulted him or use the wrong salad fork. You owe him money. Debt doesn’t fade away. Debt gets you killed, Nick.”

    I hated using the mom voice, but it was necessary. He needed to know that he had fucked up badly, and I wanted to see him take some responsibility for that. Nick’s life was on the line, so I had no problem killing the buzz that was still churning through his poisoned veins.

    He could hear the anger in my voice. I wanted him to hear the anger in my voice. Nick had brought this on himself, and there was nothing I could do about it. He must have thought otherwise.

    “I have one idea, but you aren’t going to like it at all.”

    I stared at him, trying to imagine what his drug-addled brain was coming up with, “Well?”

    “Trask.”

    Dear God. One word. One name. So many memories.

    I snapped at him, “No. No way.”

    Nick replied, “Look, I know it’s been a while between you two, but he runs with the Rising Sons, a pretty big deal biker gang in this part of the state. They... you know... get things done. I bet if you talk to him, he might—”

    “You want me to just dig up my ex and ask him to protect you?” I’d lost control. My voice came in gale force winds. “It’s been ten years since we split up, and you want me to ask a favor? Jesus, Nick, that’s fucking perfect. Thanks for putting me behind the eight ball because of your addiction.” I knew there was no other solution, and even as I yelled at him, the reality sunk in that Trask was probably our only chance.

    “Nick, you selfish prick.”

    All of a sudden, there wasn’t a twenty-five-year-old druggie standing in front of me. He was the thirteen-year-old that I