The questions continued and Kruger rolled his eyes at me when I got choked up talking about the situation with my brother—his getting mixed up with the wrong girl again, drinking too much, getting jumped by the not-ex ex-boyfriend. He was scribbling down everything I was saying while holding a recording device between his middle and index fingers. It felt like hours had passed. My brother was lucky to have slid off.
We were close to being able to leave the scene when the MPs put away their notepads and got back into their patrol cars. Kael stood up when they reversed and pulled away. I felt like crying as they left, and my chest heaved as their cars got smaller and smaller in the distance. I couldn’t believe the way they behaved and the way they’d treated Kael. It made me shiver thinking about the way their American flag patches glowed under the bright streetlights. My throat was dry and on fire when we climbed back into Kael’s truck. The empty street seemed spooky now, eerily still, as if nothing had happened at all. Everyone was gone, except us.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” I asked Kael again.
“I’m sure.”
Austin was asleep in the back of Kael’s truck with his mouth wide open. Or maybe he was blacked out, I didn’t know for certain and the only reason I even gave a shit was because I wanted to cuss him out. His face was gray, his lips dry, and his palms were a little bit clammy when I reached back to check them.
“He’s an idiot. Why does he do this?” I felt so exasperated.
“I think he’s more than drunk,” Kael observed.
“What do you mean?” I lowered my voice so Austin wouldn’t hear us if he woke up.
“He seems like he had something more than alcohol. I’ve seen a lot of guys fucked up on all kinds of stuff. Mendoza’s one of them. I know what I’m talking about, and this is more than liquor and weed. Mendoza doesn’t do the shit anymore, but he was on pills for a while, too.”
I looked back at Austin again. “I appreciate your concern, but he’s not on drugs. Weed maybe, but that’s it. I’ve seen him way worse than this. He’s a professional partier. If he doesn’t wake up by the time we get to my dad’s, I’ll wake him up.”
“Fine. You know him better than I do and we’ve both had a long night.” He gave in as we pulled onto my dad’s street. I wondered how long it would take for word to reach my dad. Days? Hours?
I ended up waking Austin to have him sit upright while we drove through the gate. He managed to keep his eyes open long enough to have our IDs checked and then he fell back asleep for the few minutes’ drive to our dad’s. I thought about taking him to my house, but I didn’t want to look at his face right now and, really, I wanted Kael to stay over tonight.
Kael swore he was physically okay and half carried Austin into my dad’s house and up the stairs. Kael had just tucked Austin into his bed when I shook my brother’s shoulder. He opened his eyes and groaned, and Kael took over, asking him questions to check his cognitive awareness: When was his birthday? What was his address? Austin answered each one in a slurred version of his voice, using our dad’s house as his address. Kael shined the flashlight from his phone over Austin’s pupils and felt his forehead before standing up from the edge of the bed. Kael really did everything in life so thoroughly, even taking care of my drunken idiot brother.
“You’ll be okay, but you need to drink water tomorrow. A shitload. And lay off excess of anything. Trust me, man.” He leaned down over my brother. Austin smiled goofily at him.
“Indulgence in anything never ends well. Get your shit together or you’re going to fuck up your life.” Kael was serious, and his focus was on Austin’s drunk smile turning into a sad one.
“I know. I’m done drinking,” Austin said, followed by, “Gonna sleep it off . . . drink water in morning . . .” His eyes fluttered closed.
“What was that about?” I looked at Kael with harsh eyes as we walked down my dad’s lawn. Austin was barely coherent and didn’t defend himself or make excuses like he usually would have. My brother on drugs? He could barely afford to get his hair cut, let alone buy drugs and keep up with his love of alcohol and Chipotle.
“I’m only trying to help,” Kael said.
“Well, don’t. Or at least talk to me about it first before you say something like that to him again.”
“Really, that’s what you’re saying to me right now?”
I was defensive and Austin was my twin. He wasn’t on heavy drugs. He knew better than that. He just drank way more than he ever should have and didn’t know when to stop.
“I think it’s best if neither of us talk,” I said, trying to regulate my emotions, but not doing a great job of it.
We got into his truck and kept conversation to a minimum. His brows were pulled, his eyes deep in thought. I knew my behavior was unfair and I didn’t know if I could stop it. I was hurt and embarrassed and not exactly great at controlling my acting out. Another thing to send my mom a thank-you postcard for if I ever got an address for her someday. This wasn’t Kael’s fault, I knew that. I needed to grow the hell up and stop lashing out. I would break the cycle, even though it was really fucking hard. Regardless of our sticky relationship, Kael and I were friends and I cared about and respected him enough to stop myself from doing what I would normally do, taking my hurricane of emotions out on everyone around me.
He had been through enough: the MP nearly took a nightstick to his already injured leg! The scene had been horrifying and the memory of it was a hundred times worse. It had to be a thousand times worse for Kael. But how dare I make this about me or Austin!
“It’s so messed up of me to be rude to you right now. Let’s not talk about my brother tonight? I’m sorry. We’ve . . . well, you’ve been through a lot. I’m really sorry for the way I responded. I know you’re coming from a good place,” I reassured Kael, reaching for his hand to calm me. I hesitated with my hand hovering above his, tempted but timid. His fingers reached up, wrapping around mine. They were warm and familiar, threaded through mine, and I felt grounded again. I didn’t know if he would let go or not, but if he did, I would respect that and not touch him again. He didn’t, though; he rearranged our fingers so he would drive safely, but he didn’t let go.
“I’m sorry for all of this. Really sorry. I can’t believe what just happened. You must be traumatized.”
“Enough saying sorry. I’m used to trauma.” He relied on humor to soften hard things, and it worked.
“I’m serious. You did nothing wrong. By standing up for my brother, you got forced into a shitty and dangerous situation. It’s so fucked up how they have a little bit of power and they abuse it. We should have stayed at dinner and let Austin figure it out. You didn’t have to rescue him.”
“That’s my job. Literally. To protect the freedom of civilians.” He smiled. He was being sarcastic, but his words were still somewhat true. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
“Do you really think that’s what you’re doing? In the Army?” I hesitated to ask, afraid that my words would come off as insulting. I didn’t mean them that way, and I knew how sensitive a topic this could be for him. If he didn’t respond, I would change the subject and not pressure him. But if he did, I’d be grateful for the insight into his beliefs.