When To Let Go (5 page)

Maggie hopped out of the passenger side of one of the track’s racing cars.

“When can I learn to do that?” She asked her dad who was coming out of the driver’s side.

“When you're tall enough to reach the pedals.”

Maggie pouted. That would never happen. She was the shortest person in her class. Most first graders were taller than her. How was she supposed to become the best drifter the world had ever seen by the time she was sixteen if she never got to practice?

“Why don't we go again?” Her dad suggested, hating to disappoint his daughter. “I can start teaching you how to use the stick?”

Maggie beamed, “Okay!”

This had been their after school routine since the beginning. She'd get home from school, and if there were no races or classes going on her dad would take her on the track for a few runs. Every time she'd ask to learn he'd say no, then feel guilty and let her go another lap with him.

“Not fair!” Xavier called out from behind the guardrail, “I was next.”

Maggie made a face at him. He was already getting to learn to drive with his dad, and loved to brag about how he would be the best one day.

Not if Maggie could help it.

That was when their dads decided on a race.

Maggie and Xavier loved when they did that.

The two kids rushed to the passenger seats of their dad's cars.

Maggie's favorite feeling in the world was being in a car as it traveled at high speeds, taking curves without skipping a beat, daring the road to turn against them.

She and Xavier always thought the races were real, not knowing their dads went slower than they would have if they weren't there, keeping their distance to avoid crashes. Every morning the dads met in Noah's office, flipping a coin to see who'd “win” that day if they happened to find time to “race”.

When dusk was settling in they had to go home. Maggie was surprised to see that her aunts were there. She excitedly ran inside her home, hoping it meant they were having dinner with them.

What she found was Ava crying on the couch in Aunt Stevie's arms, who was also shedding tears.

Wes was watching Ava like he always did.

Her mom was sitting on a bar stool, watching as Aunt Naomi squatted in front of Violet, making them eye level, “Are you sure you don't know what happened to Parker? He didn't mention anything?”

Maggie saw the fear in Violet’s eyes as she replied, “No. He only talks to me about cars.”

Why did Maggie feel like her sister was lying?

She listened as her mom quietly explained to her dad that Parker wasn't in his bed that morning and never showed up for school. Ava had found a note in her backpack that said he'd be back soon and not to worry.

How could Parker think Ava wouldn't worry about him? All she did was worry about him. She was always crying over the way he treated their moms and the fights he got into.

Maggie decided that she hated Parker. He only made those that loved him cry. From now on, she wouldn’t care that Wes wanted to be Ava's protector. He'd do a better job than her stupid brother.

Later that night, when Violet and Maggie were in the privacy of their room, she asked Violet if she was telling the truth about not knowing.

“Of course,” her sister confirmed, turning off the bedroom light.

It still felt like Violet was lying. Maggie brushed the feeling aside. Wesley, Violet, and her always told each other the truth. They weren't like most siblings that way. They never told on each other either. Violet had no reason to lie to her, so why did it still not sit right with her? What was it about the Stones that had her siblings acting so strange?

Parker wiped his palms on the front of his jeans for the hundredth time since the bus ride and walk to the juvenile corrections center where Ryder was.

He was stressed about seeing Ryder, worried about how upset his sister must be and regretting that he had involved Violet in any of it. She was the only person besides Ryder who let him be himself. He also liked that she was the only person not giving him shit for his behavior. Behavior that he just couldn't seem to control.

He needed the women he fucked just as much as he needed to feel bone crack against his knuckles. If it wasn't for being able to work on Violet's car, he'd alternate between the two every hour or the rage got to be too much to handle. His adoptive parents had tried therapy, but how the hell could some privileged old man in sweater vests ever understand or help him?

He didn't purposely try to cause trouble with Naomi and Stevie, and he truly appreciated living with them over being on the streets or another foster home. They were way better for Ava than he was. They’d noticed she had a hard time with school, and after testing found out she had dyslexia. They'd gotten her the tutors and the help she needed to deal with it, and hopefully make school not so hard for her.

Parker couldn't have done those things. He was grateful to them for that, and truthfully, if he could go back in time and not be adopted, he wouldn't change it.

The women who adopted them would bleed themselves before they let someone hurt him or Ava, and that was pretty cool. He honestly thought they were pretty cool, he just didn't know how to let them in.

Something he would never tell anyone was how nice it was to be able to go to sleep at night without any fear. He never had that before. Always having a full belly didn't hurt either.

The part that stung most was knowing any kid could have been Ava's brother. Parker was nothing special, just the lucky one she was related to. They never would have adopted him otherwise.

Of course he couldn't express that to anyone. He would have told Ryder, who would understand.

Ryder...

Parker stared at the property before him with its tall, wired fence. Gloom surrounded the place like a fog. He prayed some of the buildings with bigger windows were places Ryder got to spend a lot of time in. A place like that wasn't meant for kids who couldn't handle the slightest touch or who went into convulsions if they felt confined.

He wiped his hands on his thighs again. It was a compulsive habit he had every time he felt he was losing control. He needed the control. Control kept the demons away.

Parker arrived at visiting hours just in time. As he waited on an outside bench his palm-wiping was at its worst. Under the bench he rubbed them back and forth, callousing his skin against the rough fabric of his jeans, waiting for his brother to appear.

He hadn't prepared himself for what he saw.

It wasn't seeing Ryder in his garb or seeing him brought out to the area in handcuffs. It was the lack of life in him.

Parker noticed it right away, and Ryder was still halfway across the yard.

All he got when Ryder sat down was a nod of his head in acknowledgment. He stared past Parker as though he could care less he was there.

His casual, aloof demeanor cut Parker deep. So deep he couldn't talk for several minutes.

“They treating you okay in here?” His voice sounded hoarse, so Parker cleared it, refusing to let what was going on affect him.

Ryder shrugged, “How 'bout you? How's Ava?”

“Good. The couple treats us well.”

“Good,” he nodded, still remaining distant. “That's great to hear.”

“I need to know you're alright. I've spent two years worried about you.”

Ryder's hazel, lifeless eyes blinked only once, “No need to. They've shot me up with so many drugs I don't feel a thing.”

Parker's chest felt like someone had dumped a pile of bricks on it. He could hardly mange to keep the conversation going, but he wasn't about to waste the time Violet had given him, “You sleeping at night?”

“They give me something. Knocks me out. I don't even dream,” Ryder informed Parker with as much life to him as a corpse.

Seeing his brother, who used to always have this intense sadness behind his eyes that now reflected nothing back, gutted him worse than a horror film.

“They got you on a lot of meds, huh?” Parker asked, swallowing down the bile.

“Only way to keep me calm.”

Parker believed it, but that still didn't make it right. There had to be better ways to help a kid than drugging him. Ryder also had nobody to care. Nobody but he and Ava, and what could they do to help? They were only kids.

“You’re out of here at eighteen, right?”

Ryder agreed.

“Find us in Arizona. We can be a family again.” Parker recited his address for Ryder to memorize, forcing him to repeat it back to him ten times, hoping it might stick despite the drugs.

Parker got up, not even sure Ryder would be able to remember he had come to visit. It was still worth it, just in case.

Now all Parker could do was pray his brother came back to him.

Over the next year Parker became more of a menace, getting in fights almost every week, not knowing how to deal with his frustration over Ryder, feeling like he had failed him.

Near the end of the school year Parker learned that they were going to hold Ava back a year, wanting her to repeat the fourth grade. Ava was ashamed and embarrassed. It was hard watching the way Naomi and Stevie could comfort her better than him, and in no time Maggie and Wes had her laughing and playing again. He was selfishly jealous Ava didn't seem to need him anymore, because Parker still needed her. Instead of telling her, he picked more fights and found more women.

What finally broke him was when months after Ryder should have been let out of Juvie he never came.

One day, when Parker was dropped off at school, some jerk-off came to him at lunch asking who the hottie in the backseat was and how he wouldn't mind taking a dip.

Parker lost it.

The jerk-off was talking about Violet. Beautiful, amazing, twelve-year-old Violet.

“If you ever touch her, I'll kill you.” Parker meant it too.

The jerk-off grabbed his crotch. “She'll be begging for it,” he taunted. “Bet with those lips she'd give good head.”

Parker punched him square in the jaw. His friends then attacked Parker and he took on all three. A large crowd gathered around them and were chanting Parker's name, who was doing the most damage. It took five teachers to break it up.

He had to wait outside the principal’s office until Naomi or Stevie arrived and they could inform them of having yet another suspension, or at least he hoped it was that and not expulsion.

Parker was slumped down low in his chair staring down at his hands. A dark shadow loomed over him. Looking up, he found Noah Baxter glaring down at him with an expression that told Parker that this could be his last day on earth.

“Get up,” Noah demanded.

Parker didn't. He wanted to live.

“You're coming with me, you little shit,” Noah sneered under his breath. “We need to have ourselves a chat.”

“Got to wait for a parent,” he explained, looking around the office to see if an adult was around to witness if Noah tried murdering him. Noah Baxter had always scared the crap out of him.

Naomi walked through the door with red, puffy eyes and Parker was hit with guilt. He knew they didn't deserve the shit he put them through.

“Go with Noah,” Naomi said with a sadness that had Parker feeling guiltier. “He'll bring you home. I want to talk privately to the principal.”

This was it. They’d finally had enough of him and were having him offed. Too bad he'd never get to see Violet's car fully restored. It was going to be sweet.

He shuffled behind Noah to the car. Once inside he stared out the window as they drove in the opposite direction of his house. Noah seemed to be taking them out into the desert. Probably where he planned on burying Parker.

“What the fuck’s the matter with you?” Noah barked.

Parker shrugged, keeping up the guise of uncaring.

“You think you're the only one who had it rough? You need to grow the fuck up.”

That got a response out of him, “No I don't think I'm the only one. I was in the foster system. I know how much worse kids have it.” Like Ryder. Thinking of him always made his chest tighten, which only brought out his anger.

“Good. Your moms love you.” Parker opened his mouth to cut in and say they weren’t his moms, but Noah silenced him, “I'm talking. They love you just as much as I do my own kids, whether you want to believe it or not.”

“Whatever,” he huffed. “They chose Ava, not me. Any kid could have been her brother.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Noah's words stung. Parker didn't let it show.

“Be fucking grateful you have a sweet, lovable younger sister making it so a kid like you gets a chance at a better life. That the parents who adopted you are the type to love you just as much, no matter what a fuckhead you've been.”

Parker didn't have a comeback. Noah was right. Nonetheless, it still mattered that he happened to get lucky. The weakness he loathed inside himself yearned to be loved for himself and not because he had gotten lucky. Any time that thought tried to surface he shoved it aside. He learned long ago that wishes were make-believe and only brought about a false sense of hope.

“In truth,” Noah continued, “The only reason I'm here is that your moms matter to my wife. What matters to her, matters to me. I can't keep watching you destroy those she loves.”

Parker did something he'd only been able to do with two other people, Ryder and Violet: he confessed something about himself, “I don't know how to stop all the anger I have. I don't want to hurt them or Ava, but sometimes I can't stop myself.”

Noah let out a puff of air, “I can understand that. When I was a kid I had a lot of anger inside me. My dad taught me how to fight, sparring with me any time I couldn't control it. I'm going to be that person for you,” he informed Parker as they pulled off the side of the road.

“No thanks, I don't need a fucking father.”

“Good. I'm not interested in being your
fucking father
. I'm interested in fighting with you.” Noah got out, walking into the desert.

Parker didn't want to follow, but his legs moved of their own accord, “Why all the way out here?”

“The gym I usually spar with Wesley at wouldn't approve of someone my age going against a sixteen-year-old in the manner I intend for us to fight.”

No way was Parker fighting him. He was huge. And by huge, he meant ginormous. Noah’s neck alone was the width of Parker’s torso.

“The rules are: nothing on the face or arms. It has to stay unnoticed,” Noah explained.

That sounded all too familiar to Parker.

“I'm not fighting you, you'll kill me,” Parker had no problem confessing to that. He still had a desire to live, even if he acted like he could give two fucks about it.

“What got you to fight those boys today? We can start there,” Noah encouraged.

Parker took a sick joy in informing him, “He wanted to fuck your daughter and thought she'd give good head.”

Noah's skin inflamed and veins flared on his neck, his muscles expanding before Parker's eyes.

Maybe telling him that hadn’t been the best idea.

“Next time a kid says something about one of my daughters I expect you to do the same thing. I'll make sure you don't get in trouble for it,” Noah stated with a clenched jaw.

Parker didn't doubt that for a second and he answered with a grin, “Don't think I could stop myself.”

“I'm going to be so fucked when they are older,” he revealed, as though they were talking man-to-man.

Then Parker realized he was, and felt bad for the guy. It was hard not to stare at Violet
now
, he couldn't imagine what it would be like when she was no longer a kid, “You know me and Wes won't let anyone touch 'em.”

Wes was crazy protective over his sisters and Ava. Parker still wasn't sure how he felt about the last one.

“What about you? Do I need to worry about you with my daughters?”

They both knew he meant a specific one.

“Nah, I care about her too much.” That was the honest truth.

“Good. Let’s fight. Don't hold back either, let it all out. And if you want to talk while we do it, that's fine too.”

“You'll kill me,” Parker repeated, trying to figure out if he was fast enough to nab Noah's car keys and get to the car unharmed.

“I won't give you more than you can handle. Sometimes taking the blows can be just as good a release.”

Parker agreed before swinging at Noah, his body apparently wanting to be there more than he realized.

Noah sidestepped it, “You have a lot to learn. Wes could do better.”

For the next two hours they fought. Noah didn't advise him much, only every so often showing him how to execute better. Despite Noah’s warning of not going easy on him, Parker knew he had, thankfully.

Parker was surprised how much better he felt the next day. From then on, every week the two would find a place to fight. Occasionally they talked. Noah eventually told Parker about his childhood and how his body had become so scarred.

After Noah shared his disturbing past, Parker, little by little, shared his. Even the things the boyfriend had done to him, which he had never told a soul about. When he started to cry, despite how hard he tried not to, Noah wrapped an arm around his shoulder and tucked him into his side. He didn't give Parker words of comfort, understanding that he didn't need to; words wouldn't have fixed anything. Having someone else know and not judge Parker over what happened seemed to be what he needed the most.

Noah was the exact influence a kid like Parker needed. He didn't have the urge to fight like before. He still needed the sex, but at least he could keep that hidden from Ava and his moms. Things were turning around for him; he tried in school and treated his moms with more respect.

There wasn't a thing Noah asked him to do that he wouldn't follow through with. He found himself stopping things he might have done in the past, fearful of losing Noah's friendship (or whatever it was they had become). He hero-worshiped the guy, which was fitting since Noah wasn't the kind of guy a normal kid should worship.

Then Parker made the stupid mistake of falling for his daughter, and his life came crumbling down again.