“Don’t you dare take one step toward me, do you hear? Stay the hell away.”

She’s trembling—it’s visible from all the way over here—and her voice shakes. I ignore her; the need to comfort her is second nature.

“Baby I—”

“You bastard!” she yells, and then hurtles into me with a force that makes me stumble, raining feeble punches onto my chest.

“You complete…”

Punch.

“And utter…”

Punch.

“Scumbag! Asshole!”

Punch. Punch.

“How could you? H-how could you leave me like this?”

I catch her wrists; her movements are slow from the exertion, and I pull her into my chest as she crumbles into me. Her angry words dissolve into sobs, her tears soaking my shirt.

“I’m sorry, Robyn. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you, I thought I was doing you a favor.”

Her shoulders stiffen as realization kicks in and she pulls away from me as if I’d burned her. I guess I did.

“Help me? You thought leaving me to deal with a bunch of loan sharks is helping me? Seriously?” I’m not sure if it’s anger or dismay in her voice, but it’s raised a few octaves and if looks could kill, I’d be nothing more than a smoldering ash pile right now. Her scowl is a raging white-hot fire. “I’ve been beaten, bullied and scared half to death. I’ve had to deal with threatening letters and dead fucking cats hung in my bedroom, and you’re sorry? Well, I guess that’s okay then, huh?”

“Robyn I—”

“You know what? Don’t, just don’t,” she spits. “Coming here was a mistake. I wanted answers, but I’ve realized now that I don’t care. Actions speak louder the words, and when the going got tough, you bailed. That tells me all I’ll ever need to know about how little you think of me. You’re a lousy no-good coward, Daniel, and I hate you.”

She’s right; I am a coward. “Wait!” I call as she’s almost back to the front door. “I’m everything you just said and more; trust me, I know that. But you need to hear me out. I walked away from you to protect you; I know that’s not what you want to believe, but it’s the truth. I was scared. I couldn’t make the payments that I owed, and I was dragging you further into debt. The pressure became too much: the constant rejection letters, the mounting bills on top of everything else was worrying the hell out of me. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I went to a bar and got shitfaced. Some guy asked me if I wanted a little something to take the edge off, and I was weak and desperate so I said yeah.”

“Wait, what? Are you talking about drugs?” she asks in shock. “But you hate drugs.” Confusion contours her face. I can see the struggle she’s having with processing what I’m telling her. It shouldn’t surprise me that she’s this shocked. She’s right; I hate drugs, or at least I used to. “You hit the roof and didn’t speak to me for three whole days when you caught me taking a drag of your friend Harry’s joint at Lucy’s twenty-first birthday. You were disgusted with me.”

“I know,” I tell her, and continue my admission before I chicken out. “It was cocaine...I bought a little plastic baggie of this magical white powder that was going to make me feel human again, and it did, it really did. It worked, and for the first time in months I wasn’t thinking about all the negatives that were happening. It made me feel alive. So, the next day I went back to the bar and I found the same guy and bought more. And the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. I maxed out my credit card on coke within a week. I was so desperate to chase that feeling of contentment, of not feeling like a fucking failure who couldn’t look after myself or provide for my girlfriend, that I begged him for more. He told me about a guy who could supply me with what I needed, but I had to help him out and push his stuff. I agreed. I was so fucking desperate that I agreed.”

“What…? You were dealing?” she whispers as tears slide down her blotchy pink cheeks.

“For a few weeks, yeah, I dealt. I’d tell you I was going out busking, and I’d peddle out drugs to pay for my own. But the rejections didn’t stop, the bills didn’t go away and the need to escape just grew and grew. I started skimming off the stash they’d given me to sell. By the time I realized what a huge mistake I’d made it was too late. So, I decided to run. I figured if I did they’d chase me and I’d be leading them away from you. I know it sounds stupid, but I was in a bad place. I didn’t think anything through and I should have told you, but I was ashamed.”

I take a deep breath and keep going.

“One of the guys caught up with me and said that I owed them ten grand, and that was it, the final straw. I’d exhausted all the ways I knew of getting cash, so I bailed. I never for a second would have left you if I knew that they would come and try to collect from you. I didn’t know that they knew where I lived, or even that I had a girlfriend. I thought you’d be better off without me. I didn’t realize they’d contacted you until last week. I received a picture message of you walking down the sidewalk, coffee in hand, with some guy in a suit. The message read that if I didn’t return, they’d make you pay…and not in money. I swear to God, I got here as quickly as I could, Robyn. You need to get out of here; we need to leave.”

She looks like she’s seen a ghost; her eyes are wide and her face pale, as though all the color has been magically removed. I want to tell her it will be okay, that everything will be fine, but I don’t dare, and I’m not sure I even believe that it will.

“How did they get your number? If you switched out your phone, how did they find you?”

“I don’t know, and honestly I don’t care. I just want to get you away from here as soon as possible,” I admit.

“No.”

“What?”

“No. I’m not going anywhere with you and I’m not running away from my home, my friends, my life, because you fucked up,” she says straightening her posture indignantly.

“Robyn, this isn’t a joke. They’re threatening to fucking—shit, I can’t even say it. Look, theses guys aren’t messing around. They’ll come for you to get to me.”

“They already have, you asshole! They know who I am and where I live, and I’m busting my gut to pay off your debt so I can live MY life!”

“No, but—”

“Never mind, no but! It’s not happening. I’m not going anywhere, much less with you. If you were a real man, you’d go and find these guys and settle things yourself, but I’m not going to hold out much hope on that. I have to go now. I suggest you do the same. Don’t come back here, you’re not welcome.”

She’s out the door before I can register her words. My mind reels before my brain kicks in and tells me to go after her. I run out into the hall in time to see Mrs. Heckles ‘tsk’ at me and throw me a disgusted look of pure disdain. She closes her front door, and I hear the deadlock click and the sound of her chain being shakily slid into place. I run to the stairwell, but there’s no sign of Robyn, and by the time I’ve made it out onto the sidewalk she’s gone. I realize I’d never find her amongst the slew of passersby anyhow.

I came back to warn her, and I have. So, why do I feel so much worse than I did before?

I should go and reveal myself to these assholes. Tell them to collect from me, but I know they won’t take nicely to what I’ve done, and I’m almost certain I’d wind up dead. I’m sure there’s a saying somewhere about once a coward, always a coward—but I’m not about to die, not over ten grand.

ARGUING WITH YOUR brother over a girl is something I thought I was done with since middle school. Cole asked out Erin Copeland an hour after I’d confessed to him I was working up to asking her to junior prom. A red mist descended and all brotherly love was forgotten as I walked into his room. I remember dragging him backward from his desk, and then we’d wrestled on the floor, hitting and kicking the shit out of each other ‘til Mom burst in and had to drag me off of him. She threw an absolute fit that we were fighting like mortal enemies and chastised us about being brothers first, beyond any misguided loyalties to a woman; family always came first.