“What the fuck do you want, Tara?” I grumble, and even my own voice bounces off the walls of my head.

“Charming. I came to see how my big bro is doing.” She stands in front of me with her hand on her hip, and a fake smile wiped across her face.

“Well, now you’ve seen how I am, you can fuck off.” I know it’s blunt. But I really don’t care right now.

She replaces the smile with a scowl and stands straighter with a huff. “Has anyone told you that you were a nicer person when Lottie was around?”

“I thought I told you to fuck off.” I’m not in the mood for this today. I just want to be left alone.

“Well, you’re shit out of luck because I came to spend the day with you.” She plops her ass down on the couch, flicks her sandals off and props her feet up on the coffee table.

“Tara,” I huff. “I said−”

“I know what you said. I have got ears, you know.” Her narrowing eyes make her look like an errant teenager, all she needs now is some gum and it would be stereotype complete. “Don’t bother telling me to get out, fuck off, or any other inventive way of trying to get me to go away. I’m not going anywhere.”

Great. Not only do I have the world’s worst hangover, but I get to experience it with Tara. The world definitely hates me. I spin my wheelchair around and make for the direction of my room. “I miss you, okay?” she calls out softly from behind me. “I miss my brother. I want to spend some time with you. Is that so wrong?” She looks at me with a challenge in her eyes. Tara has the stubborn ‘King’ gene. Denham is stubborn too and can be pigheaded to go with it. Growing up I thought I was the one that took after my mom, chilled out, so relaxed I was horizontal. But I guess, these last few weeks, I’ve discovered that my dad’s ‘King’ stubbornness is in all three of us.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“Yeah, I guess I have.” I give a half hearted shrug.

“Is that because you’ve been a giant asshole?” she questions, raising her brows unnecessarily high at me.

“Tara!”

“It’s true!” she squeals, but she manages to say it in a way that I don’t take offense. It is true. I have been an asshole.

“I’m trying,” I mumble, looking into my lap.

She smirks. “You’re trying to be an asshole?”

“Oh my god.” I roll my eyes and look to the ceiling for some kind of divine intervention. I’m not sure I can cope with her smart mouth today.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” She perches on the edge of the couch, resting her elbows on her knees and looking at me with those deep brown eyes of hers. “I know it’s hard for you. But you can’t wallow forever. I won’t let you. I know everyone is letting you deal with it all in your own way, but it’s not working. I know why you sent Lottie away. I understand. I really do. But you’re wrong.”

“I’m not even going there, Tara,” I warn through clenched teeth. “If you want to spend time with me, any talk about Lottie is forbidden, okay?”

“Are you trying to forget her altogether?” she asks gently.

“I could never forget her,” I whisper. She’s all I see when I close my eyes and my heart shatters every time I open them and she’s not there. “I just need time to get over her, that’s all. It hurts. It all fucking hurts.”

Tara stands up and comes behind my chair before sliding her arms around me and resting her chin on my shoulder. “I love you, bro.”

“I love you too, sis.”

“Can we spend the day together?”

“Sure,” I reply, tilting my head to rest on hers.

After a little convincing, and a lot of deep breaths and internal pep talks, I agreed to go out with Tara. It’s been an eternity since I spent any time with her and despite her loud mouth and bravado earlier, I can see the little girl lost beneath the façade. It’s not until I stop and look in to her eyes that I realize she’s hurting too. It’s hard for all of us.

“Are you okay?” Tara asks, popping the last bite of a sushi roll in her mouth.

“Um, yeah, kinda,” I shrug dismissively.

“Is it really that hard being out of the apartment?”

“Yeah. No.” I shake my head and sigh. “I can’t really explain it, T. It actually feels good to be out, those four walls were getting kinda boring, but then I look around at all the people here and my heart starts to race. I don’t know them. I don’t know if one of these people might be carrying a gun, loaded with a bullet with my name on it, or if someone’s about to pull a knife on us. I can’t guarantee that the minute we set foot out of here, a car won’t mount the curb and−”

“Stop it. You’re crazy, do you know that?” she replies louder than I would like. I immediately feel like a scolded child. “How many times did you walk freely outside before your accident?” She points a hard stare at me and I shrug. “I’ll tell you how many, thousands. Thousands and thousands, Spike. It was a freak accident. It was a sick son of a bitch with a score to settle, but it’s over and done with. You wanna spend the rest of your life in the apartment, breathing in re-circulated air and watching the world go by from your high rise window? Shit happens. I know it’s easy for me to say because I can still use my legs, but shall I tell you something?” she asks, but continues before I can answer. “There’s not a day that goes by that I wouldn’t trade places with you, do you know that? There’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t think about you, and Lottie and … Jack,” she swallows hard and takes a deep breath.

I lower my gaze to the table, pushing back at the sting of tears in my eyes at the sorrow in her voice. I know I’m wallowing. I know I’m not the only one that was affected, but sometimes, my head is so far up my own ass that I don’t actually see the effect that the repercussion ripples are having. “That fucking asshole that did this to you, to us, might be dead and buried, but he’s still winning. Every second of every day that you don’t fight, he wins. Jack is dead, and you’re not, but you’re acting like you are.” She looks at me through pained, glassy eyes and the silence spreads between us, until a sob breaks free from her throat. “I just want you back. I want my brother back.” She cries loudly, fumbling with her napkin and burying her face in it. I wheel my chair around to her side of the table, feeling grateful that the waiter moved the seating around for us when we arrived.

“Come here,” I whisper, opening my arms to her.

She leans in to my chest, sobbing loudly. “I miss you all. I miss how it was. I just want our lives back.”

“I know,” I say quietly, stroking her hair. “I’m trying.”

“No, you’re not.” She sniffles in to my t-shirt before wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She pulls back and searches my eyes. “You’re not trying, you’re giving up. You’re letting that night ruin your life. You need to fight, Spike. You need to fight for you, and Lottie, and our family.”

“I don’t know how,” I admit. I thought I could just muddle through and it would all work out the way it’s supposed to. But she’s right. I’m falling deeper into a black hole.

“Yes, you do. Remember what Mom always told us?” She straightens in her chair. “If you want something badly enough, you’ll find a way to make it happen. You just have to pull your head out of your ass to see the way forward first.”

I laugh out loud. “Did mom really say that?”

“Well, not word for word. I may have embellished it a little.” She bumps her shoulder with mine before resting her head softly against my cheek. “But do you see where I’m coming from?”

“Yeah, T. I see,” I murmur softly, kissing her hair.

“I love you, Spike.” She wraps her arms around my waist, just like she used to when she was little and was scared of the thunderstorms, searching for reassurance that everything will be okay.

“I love you, too, T.” I tighten my hold on her. It’s the best I can do right now.