Uncontrollable (42 page)

My hands fidget in my lap. “How do you know that?
We haven’t even tried to be a family.”

 He tilts the bottle up to his lips and takes a
good size gulp. “I’m not strong like you. I can’t overcome my past.”

I stand quickly.
Fuck our past.
“I want to
be your sister.” Just saying that has tears filling my eyes. “Don’t you want to
be my brother?” I ask the loaded question, and I hold my breath as he looks out
over his backyard again.

 He turns to face me and runs a hand over his
cropped dark hair. “That’s all I’ve wanted since I found out you were my
sister, Sam.”

I let out a breath and the tightness lessens as I
wipe the tears off of my face. “I’m sorry,” I say, and my voice cracks. “I’m
sorry for not knowing about what Jonathan did to you.” I rub my eyes
frantically trying to wipe the tears away. “I’m sorry you had to go through it
all alone.”

 “Shh.” He walks up to me and wraps his arms around
me. “It’s okay, Sam. You couldn’t have known.”

 But I did know. The older I got the more I noticed
the bruises on his mother. “I should have said something, to anyone, about…”

 “No, Sam.” He tightens his arms around me, and I
feel the liquor bottle against my back.

 I pull away and look up to him. “Why are you
drinking, Tate?”

 He sighs. “It helps my nerves.”

 “Your nerves?” I ask frowning.

 He steps away from me and sits down in his chair.
“I told you I’m not a good person, Sam.”

 “Drinking doesn’t make you a bad person, Tate,” I
state sitting down next to him.

 He shakes his head. “The real reason we moved away
from Tulsa…” He pauses. “I did something that I don’t regret. I did something
so bad that could have cost me my life, but I don’t care.” He shrugs as he looks
down at the bottle in his hands. “I’d do it again without even thinking. And
that makes me a bad person.” He finishes looking over at me.

I know he means something to do with Jonathan. I
choose my words carefully. “I don’t know what you did, Tate. But I can tell
you, it’s okay to defend your mother.”

 He snorts. “I wouldn’t call it defending anyone.
More like getting even.”

He sits back in his chair and slowly takes another
drink of his tequila. We sit in silence as I think about what all of this
means. My father had a son, a son he didn’t know about. “I have some questions,
Tate,” I say softly.

 He gives a laugh but it holds no humor. “Hence the
alcohol.” He lifts up the bottle of tequila.

“Why didn’t Laura tell Dad about you?” I notice the
slight flinch every time I say
dad.
I know our dad wasn’t there for him
but I wouldn’t call Jonathan his dad either.

He runs a hand over his face. “I just…I think our
life was already bad enough. She didn’t want to add more to it.”

 “Did my mother know?”

 He nods his head. “She found out after Jack
passed.” He leans back in his chair. “She called my mother furious. They were
best friends, and she wanted to know why she never told Jack or her for that
matter, either.”

 “And when did you find out?”

 He looks over at me, and I try to ignore the
tightening of my chest. He looks so angry. And the liquor in his hands just
makes me worry more. “Some things I will not tell you, Sam.”

 “Tate, please…”

“No,” he says curtly.

 “Are you ashamed? Of us? Of me?” I whisper the
last part. Tired of thinking it, I need to know an answer.

 “How could you think that?” he asks in disbelief.

 I sniff. “What am I supposed to think? You don’t
give me any information. I find out I have a brother. I find out you were…that
Jonathan…”
beat him.
I can’t say the words aloud. I know they must
affect him. I don’t want to make him drink more then he already is.

 “That doesn’t make me ashamed of you or us. We
didn’t ask for this situation, Sam.”

 I nod my head in understanding. “It must have been
hard,” I say looking down at my red nail polish.

 “It is hard,” he retorts before taking another
drink of the tequila.

 A thought hits me, and I can’t help but ask. “Is
that why you take those pills? Because of your past?”

 He lets out a sigh. “Yes, Sam,” he says as if I’m
annoying him.

 “What kind of pills are they?” The bottle was too
worn out to see what they were exactly.

 “Sleeping pills,” he replies with a hard voice
once again.

 I sit up straighter and my head snaps to look over
at him. “What? You take sleeping pills and drink?”

“If I pass out drunk from the alcohol then I don’t
need the pills,” he spits out.

 I can’t take it anymore. I get up and stand in
front of him. “Stop with the attitude.” I place my hands on my hips. “Just so
you know. I am going to be the most annoying little sister you could imagine.”
The corners of his lips actually lift a little. “I want you safe, Tate. We’ve
lost enough family already. For once I want to be here for one another.”

 He nods his head “Agreed.”

 I run my hand through my hair and let out a sigh.
“Will you come over for dinner tomorrow night?”

 “Of course I will,” he says with a look as if that
was a stupid question.

 I bend down and wrap my arms around him. “If you
need anything please call me, Tate.”

 “I will.” He pats my back before I pull away.

 He stands and gestures to the back door. “I’ll let
you out the front door.”

 I point to the side of the house. “I’ll climb over
the fence again.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Plus my phone and purse are still lying
in the grass over there.”

 He chuckles, and it makes me smile.

 I walk around the house as he follows after me. I
had just bent down to grab my stuff when I hear Slade’s car pull into his driveway.
My eyes narrow on it.

 “Take it easy on him,” Tate says watching me.

 I turn and face him. “How can I, when I know he
knew about you?”

 He shrugs. “Isn’t that how love works? You forgive
them? No matter what the reason is?”

 “Is it? Do you forgive the ones you love?” I ask
meaning his mother. Could he forgive her for what she has put him through? The
lies? The abuse?

 He looks me in the eye and responds, “I don’t love
anyone.”

Not even me?

 My eyes widen, and he salutes me with his bottle
of tequila. “Like I said. Not a good person.”

I go to argue with him when I hear Slade yell
followed by his car door slam shut.

 I spin around to face him. “How long have you
known?”

I come to a stop as I
approach the fence.
How long have you known?
Now that is a loaded
question, but I’m going to be honest with her.

 “Since the night I proposed to you in New York.”

 Her hands fall down to her side, and her mouth
gapes open. “You’ve known all this time?” she says in shock. “Trip to Vegas…”
Then her eyes fill with tears. “Our wedding…”

 “Yes,” I say trying not to let her expression get
to me. I want to fall to my knees. I want to apologize for not telling her but
I don’t. Instead I place my hands in my front pockets and lean back on my
heels. “I confronted Tate later on that evening. I wanted to know how he knew
so much, but we knew so little about him. He finally told me he was your
half-brother. I asked a few questions but that was all that he would give me.”
I look at Tate and frown when I see the bottle of tequila still gripped in his
hand. “I found out when we got back from New York that his real name is not
even Tate. So, I hired an investigator to find out more about him.” I sigh. “As
you read on my computer, he didn’t find out much.”

 “I’ve paid money for it to stay that way,” Tate
says with a proud smile.

 Angel turns to face him. “Are you trying to hide
from someone?”

 “Not in the least.” He looks down to his bottle
before he takes a sip.

 She turns back to face me. Pointing a finger at
me, she scowls, “That does not get you off of the hook, Slade.”

 “I told him over and over that you deserved to
know,” I argue although I know it makes me sound like a little kid trying to
lay blame on someone else.

 “That is true,” Tate says nodding his head
quickly.

 “Are you drunk?” I ask concerned as his tall body
sways.

 He chuckles. “Not yet,” he lies easily.

 Angel sighs. “Get in the truck,” she says tossing
her phone, purse, and keys over the fence. I watch them land on the grass by my
feet with a frown.

 “What?” Tate’s head snaps up to look at her.

 “I said get in the truck. You need some food to
sober you up.” She frowns as she looks him up and down.

 “That’s not necessary,” he argues.

 “Get in my fucking truck, Tate,” she yells. I
swear I am not used to these pregnancy hormones. Hell, I was just getting used
to her regular mood changes.

 Tate finally shrugs and turns to walks to the back
of the house.

 She places her hands on the fence, and I try to
help her over it but she pushes me away. “I climbed over here by myself. I can
get back over there by myself,” she mumbles.

 I ignore her statement. “Where’s he going?”

 “Probably to turn off the blaring radio and finish
off the tequila,” she shoots over her shoulder as she walks to the truck.

Dinner has gone pretty
well. Angel fixed pork chops, gravy, and mashed potatoes with a side of green
beans and carrots.

 Tate has shoveled in enough that he has started to
look better. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for him to hear that I
had hired someone to get his life story, only for Angel to find it. He sounded
horrified on the phone, panicked even.

 It also killed me to know that Angel turned her
cell off. I didn’t know she was headed over there to see him. I couldn’t tell
from her frantic voice if she was elated to hear he was her brother or if she
despised the idea. I’m so glad that she has accepted it.

 I smile to myself as I place some food on my fork.
Of course she took him in with open arms.

 I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “So, did you get
anything for the bakery started today?” I ask her.

 She looks up giving me a go to hell look with her
narrowed eyes. Well, I guess I’m not off the hook just yet.

 She dishes out some potatoes and smacks them down
on her plate.

“Don’t be mad at him,” Tate says.

 She drops the spoon back into the potatoes and
gives him a serious look. “He knew.” She picks up her fork and points at him.
“Whether you guys had an excuse or not. He still knew.” She throws her hands up
in the air. “Hell, he’s known for four months.” She looks at me. “You should
have told me.”

 I release a sigh. How many times have I told
myself that? I knew that she deserved to know.

“I told him not to,” Tate says once again.

 “Quit defending him,” she snaps.

 “Look,” I say getting their attention. “He was
afraid of your reaction. I didn’t want to force his hand. He wasn’t ready. Did
I want to tell you? A hundred times, Angel. But you of all people should know
that it wasn’t my place.”

 She lets out a long breath and looks down to her
full plate. She drops her fork and pushes her chair back. “I’m no longer
hungry,” she announces angrily. “Tate, stay the night, you’re still drunk,” she
says with no room to argue before stomping out of the dining room.

 “Well, that didn’t go as bad as I thought it
would,” Tate says with a smile.

 “Maybe for you.” I smile when I hear her come back
down the hallway. It fades though when I see she has a pillow in one hand and a
blanket in the other.

 “You can sleep on the couch,” she says
matter-of-fact. “Peaches.” She whistles for the dog. Peaches jumps up from the
floor and follows after her.

 Tate chuckles before shoving more food into his
mouth.

“How did I get in the most trouble when you were
the one with the secret?” I ask somewhat confused.