“For a lot of things. I forget how young you are, and because of that, I keep thinking that you’re capable of making mature decisions. I think that you need me less. I believe that you don’t need someone to babysit you twenty-four-goddamn-seven. Mostly, I’m sorry that I failed you, and that I stopped being a parent.”
“Ayda...”
“So, here’s how it’s gonna go, kid. From here on in, you’re going to have to prove that I can trust you. You’regoing to come home from school and check in with me, Drew, Deeks, or anyone else that agrees to be a check in for you.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Tate. You earn your privileges, and that includes your bike—”
“Oh, hellno!Fuck that.”
I snapped my head in his direction and narrowed my eyes, somehow managing to keep absolutely calm. I knew how disorientating that was and how intimidating it could be. If this kid wanted to play games, I was going to play, but he wasn’t going to like how far I took them.
“That was exactly the reaction I had when I was called in here because you were screwing your girlfriend on high school property.”
“You don’t understand—”
“I understand just fine. I have given you too much rope, and you’ve finally hung yourself with it.”
Tate pulled his arm back, fist balled, ready to punch the dash. He was already picking up momentum when my hand circled his wrist and diverted it from its trajectory.
“Not my car.”
“Fuck you.”
I tried my best not to recoil at the venom in his voice. My sweet kid brother was nowhere in sight at the moment, and in his place was this bitter little shithead who looked as though he hated me. I wasn’t sure how to respond to this, how to derail this confrontation that was inbound. Slater had warned me this was coming, but I’d been so lost in what was going on in my life that I’d ignored the warning and given him a free pass because he was grieving.
Grief was evil and capable of so much pain anddestruction, but this was too much.
“I love you, Tate. It’s okay that you hate me, but if you ever sayfuck youto me again, I will have to rethink this whole life for you.”
“Whatever.”
I dropped his wrist and grabbed his chin, too big to belong to a teenager, and I turned his face to meet mine. Our eyes met, the same color fusing together between us. I needed him to see how deadly serious I was. I needed him to understand that as much as I couldn’t leave Drew or this life now, I still loved the kid enough to think about an alternative until he was old enough to make his own choices. He would hate me, and I would hate myself, but it was a necessary threat. He needed to know I had choices, too. Ones I would follow through on if I were pushed.
“It was just sex,” he said, resignation in his tone.
“And you’resixteen. I’ve given you so much freedom because I felt like you could handle it, Tate. Was I wrong?”
“Ayda, I’m fine.”
“You’re nowhere near fine.”
“Don’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything but talking to you.”
“And I don’t want to talk.”
“But you need to. I’m so sick of this attitude you’ve got going. This isn’t who you are.”
Tate huffed out a laugh and knocked my hand away from his chin. The snide and sardonic smile that came over his lips made me feel ill. “Maybe it’s who I am now.”
“Then I need to make a change.”
“If you try anything, I’ll just take off. I’m not afraid of being alone.”
“You gonna walk?” I asked, putting the car into gear and reversing from the spot. “Because you’re not taking my bike.”