That fucking black eye you gave me for cheating? That told me how much you cared about her.”
“You hurt her. I would have done that no matter who you cheated on,” Harley insisted.
“Is that what you tell yourself?” he asked calmly. “Because I remember things a little differently. When I went out with Evie Collier, you knew I cheated on her. You gave me hell, but you never touched me. When Piper got that horrible flu and I promised her I’d finish the boat so she’d have it for the summer boat race the next weekend and then I blew it off, you tracked me down. You pulled me out of a party and beat the living hell out of me for leaving her hanging. Then you finished building and painting her boat. You loved her then, man. It’s a good thing. Own it, because the way she stood up to me today told me that you two are right as rain together. You should be damn proud of that woman. She’s only gotten better with age. And you were right: I didn’t deserve her. But you sure do.”
Harley’s mind reeled back in time, spinning with memories of racing home on the weekends to work at the pub, bailing Marshall out of trouble, and a dozen other reasons he’d come home. But he felt the pulse of the truth getting louder, breaking free from its burial ground deep inside him. He’d shoved the truth down so deep, he’d never seen it. Because he felt like he was betraying his brother? He couldn’t be sure. But memories rushed in, of standing outside the pub, hoping he’d see Piper on the dock. Looking for her everywhere, wondering if she was home for the weekend, too, once she’d gone away to college.
“You remember, don’t you?” Marshall asked.
“I didn’t . . . I wasn’t trying to take your girl,” Harley said, dumbfounded by the truth.
“I know that. You were driven by your emotions. I can see that now. I understand it, and I’m not pissed at you anymore. I was angry for a long time, feeling like you chose her over me. But then I met Annie, and I finally got it. I felt love like you must have, and I knew I’d do anything for her. That’s why I’m here. I became a Dark Knight, and through them I’ve had a chance to help others the way the Dark Knights helped me. For the first time in my life, I have a clear direction, a clear head, and I know what I was meant to do. With their assistance and guidance, I came up with a business plan to open an emotional wellness center, Annie’s Hope.”
“Marshall—”
“Just hear me out. I know it’s a big endeavor. I have Annie’s life insurance money, and I want to put it to good use. I’ve been clean and sober for two years, and I’m never going back to that life again. Not when I realize how much I could have done to save my girls. I’m not talking about a huge medical clinic. I want to create a more welcoming, less threatening environment. A coffee-shop atmosphere for meetings, offices that are like living rooms, with medical professionals, volunteers, mentoring programs, work programs. My plan is a solid one. I’ve had it reviewed by several mental health professionals in Colorado. It would be similar to AA or NA. I don’t have a medical degree, but I don’t need one to be the person who pulls it together. My experience—the experiences I’ve learned about with others—are what guided me to the concept. I need to do this, Harley, and I can do it with or without your support. I know that I can stand on my own two feet, and the Dark Knights, the brotherhood, have my back. There are chapters everywhere.”
Harley looked across the room, where his brother’s leather jacket lay in a heap, the Dark Knights patches facing them, as if they were in the room with them, giving Marshall the support he needed. Despite Marshall’s forgiveness, Harley would always regret turning him away. He wanted to give him the support he was asking for, but he also wanted to protect him.
He met Marshall’s gaze and said, “I support you, brother, but I think it’s only fair to you, and to the rest of us, if you give it some time. We have a lot of anger and hurt to work through as a family, and I