She’s going to think we’re childish and stupid, and me…she’s going to think I’m not fit to take care of my brother. Not fit to take in the one person in this world who means everything to me. The one who needs me and is counting on me to get him out of there.
On my last thread, like a rubber band being stretched beyond its capacity, I snap. Red spills in my vision, filling my chest and taking over. I bark at her, yelling at her to go, because if I look at her a second longer, I don’t know what I might do. I know it’s washable, that much seeped into my consciousness, but even knowing that, I can’t seem to wrap my brain around the fact that she chose today to do it. Of all days, it had to be today? I know I’m overreacting, but it still doesn’t lessen my temper.
I know I don’t have much of a right to be angry with her. It was meant to be a harmless prank, and after all the shit (pun intended) that has happened, I don’t blame her for wanting to get back at me. I just wish it had been any other day. Any other time.
She gathers her stuff in a reckless hurry, dropping everything in the process. I should help her, help her out of here, to save at least a shred of her dignity, but I don’t. Her shoulders droop in shame, and I swear, I even see the slight tremble in her chin. This is wrong. I’m not this guy. I don’t make women cry, and the fact that I’ve hurt Olivia, enough to make her want to cry? It only serves to fuel my anger.
Before leaving, she pauses over the threshold, looking from me to the social worker.
“I’m sorry. It was stupid prank. I’ll come over and clean it, as soon as I can. I just thought…after all the stuff you’ve pulled on me, I thought I’d finally get you back.”
I wish she’d stop talking.
I wish she would’ve just left it at that.
She walks out of the house, down the porch steps, and I know I should let her go. I should turn around and start apologizing to the social worker.
Of course, I don’t do either of those things.
Jumping into action, I storm out of the house after her, needing to get in the last word. I prowl toward her, closing in on her petite form, and it doesn’t escape my notice how she flinches when she feels me coming.
When we jerk to a stop in front of her door, I see the tears welling in her eyes, but it doesn’t stop the venomous words from spewing from my lips.
“What the fuck is the matter with you? Are you that fucking starved for attention?”
“I’m sorry,” she manages through gritted teeth, holding back her own ire and emotions.
“Stay the fuck away from me, you hear me? I don’t want to see you. I don’t want anything to do with you, Olivia. Get it through your fucking head. This, whatever fucked-up thing is happening, it’s over.”
With that, I spin on my heels and head back inside. I ignore the pained, ragged sound that escapes her chest and force myself to ignore the pain in my own. I want to turn around and apologize, but I can’t. I have my little brother to save. I can’t save everyone, I know that, but if I can save at least one, it’s going to be the one I love most.
When I head back inside, the social worker, Regina, I believe her name is, is scribbling some notes down on the clipboard, she seemingly pulled from thin air, and my heart sinks.
“Please, hear me out. I had no idea this was going to happen.”
She puts up her hand, stopping me. “I realize that. I also realize that may be a problem. Children need a stable environment. Not one filled with shenanigans of this sort. And the way you lost your temper with her? Makes me wonder how you’d lose your temper with your little brother.”
I grit my teeth. “I would never. I love him.”
She sighs, a sadness flashing across her face and a bone-weary tiredness settling into her posture. “I know you do. But I also need to follow protocol. I’m not failing you for today, but I’m not giving you a perfect score either. You need to prove you can do this, Mr. Banks. You have everything stacked against