Seasons of Change

65

The news hit Krist like a ton of bricks, his older brother was found dead, alone in a scuzzy motel room from a suspected fentanyl overdose, the same fucking motel that Lainey had died in. Part of him wondered if perhaps the guilt of what he'd done to Madison had taken its toll and he could not face the man he'd become. And then he wondered if Brad had simply holed up on a bender to escape, one last hurrah before the police caught up with him and he went back to prison.

Either way, he'd been found alone and regardless of how fucked up Brad had become, nobody needed to spend their last moment of life alone. Krist regretted cutting his brother off. Yes he had been hurt that it appeared Brad had sided with Marcus and he'd made some shitty ass comments but Krist wished he'd been a bigger man and reached out to settle their differences like adults. Instead, he chose to be petty, holding a grudge against Brad for weeks.

He regretted all those moments he'd been unnecessarily shitty to him, especially when they were growing up. But then again, there had been that brief period of peace when Brad was in prison and it felt like they were actual brothers.

Sitting alone on the porch on that rainy afternoon, Krist wept quietly to himself, taking comfort in weed and the gentle pitter-patter of the precipitation hitting the grass.

Fucking B-Rad, he thought bitterly, why couldn't you have seen the piece of shit I was and dad was, is, and stayed the fuck away from this shit?

Fucking idiot, man, threw his whole education, his career, two marriages, a future filled with memories made with his kids, fucking everything away because he got caught up in dope, man, and let the dirty fucking evil that came along with it take over. Fucking idiot.

Krist took a fat hit off his blunt, holding it in and exhaling, releasing as much of his anger and sadness as he could.

You fucking idiot. Stupid motherfucker. You hurt everyone who cared about you, everyone who loved you despite all the grief you brought them. You couldn't see how fucking lucky you were? We had a good family, the best mom and now everyone is left with questions that have no answers because you aren't here anymore. How do I tell Rocco he ain't gonna be seeing you ever again?

Fuck you, I fucking hate you. But if that were true, why is my stupid ass crying over you?

He hit the blunt again, coughing as he exhaled. Shit was never supposed to be like that. Was going to prison better than death? Well...maybe with that rape charge.

A wave of sickness washed over his body. Brad had raped Brooke too but she'd been too ashamed to report that aspect of her assault. His brother was a fucking rapist. And he had three daughters. Fuck. Maybe it was for the best.

Atira had offered to stay home with the kids while he went to his mom and Bill's so they could process their grief as a family. Krist would have loved her to come but when she pointed out that it may be too much for Rocco, he had to agree.

His sister and Patrick were already there, along with Brooke and Holly, their girls at the home of one of their close friends.

Linda looked so damn lost as he entered the living room, she was sitting on the loveseat clutching Brad's track uniform from high school as though it were a life preserver. Bill sat beside her, his arm draped around her shoulders protectively. She looked so small, so fragile. She looked old.

Krist bent down to hug his mother, she clung to him as if she were scared that if she let go, he'd float away like a stray balloon.

"Why didn't we force him into rehab?" She asked Krist.

He sat down on the ottoman across from her, "Mom, you know you can't make nobody get clean if they ain't wanting it, we talked about this before."

He realized that his comment came off as brass and immediately apologized for his tone.