"I walk around lost and I don't know why
I don't see the faces or the places I should recognize
It's like that dream where it feels like home but it don't look right
Yes I will look everywhere tonight
I will not stop till I make things right
And I can't go home till I see the sun…"
Everclear
Kirsten dropped her bags by the door and turned to put a silencing finger to her lips as Sandy joined her.
Ryan and Summer were asleep on the downstairs couch.
"Long night," Sandy whispered.
"You think Summer has school?" Kirsten asked him.
Sandy gently closed the door to the house and to their surprise, both kids raised their heads up immediately.
"Sorry," he apologized.
"No problem," Ryan yawned.
"Shit, I'm late," Summer said, glancing at her watch.
"Be careful, Summer," Kirsten called as she took off toward the exit.
Summer seemed to reconsider the urgency and stopped beside them. "Make him tell you what happened. He says he's fine and he probably is but you still need to know. Bye."
Kirsten was startled but immediately turned to look at Ryan.
He had his hands over his eyes, rubbing them tiredly but he felt her gaze on him and spoke. "My mom called last night and my brother's out of jail. I picked her up from Riverside PD and took her to where Trey's staying. So I'm tired, pissed off that my mom's still fucking up her life and I punched my brother for absolutely no reason."
"Well…"
"So. How was your night?" Ryan replied, lowering his hands and regarding them.
"We had a great time…so, you saw Dawn?" Sandy asked, processing his words.
"Yes. And I don't want to talk to you guys about it anymore because it upsets you. I'm seeing my shrink in a few hours and I'll go over it with her. I'm going to get changed and go for a run," he said, standing up and disappearing.
"That's new," Sandy said.
"Talking to the shrink? Yeah. Not talking to us? I don't like it, Sandy," Kirsten admitted.
Sandy turned to her.
"I know I flipped out about Dawn before the funeral, but can you blame me? She hurts him, Sandy. Even when he sees her for a little while, she hurts him. She called him to pick him up from a police station, Sandy…" she snapped.
"I know. But she's his mother. He's loyal, he loves her, despite everything," Sandy said calmly. "We can't change the way he feels. We have to trust him. He came back to us last night, he is here with us. We aren't going to lose him…"
"I'll fight her for him," she murmured despite herself.
Sandy laughed and embraced her. "I know you would."
"I'm going to talk to him after he's done running," she said.
"I know that, too."
Ryan didn't hate the doctor as much today.
Something had changed for him when he saw his mother this time. Sure, she'd come when she heard about the fire, she'd seemed genuinely worried but after last night, he knew that she didn't care. He wasn't a son to her, he was a belonging. Someone at her beck and call.
"Why'd you go, Ryan?" she asked.
"Because. She wanted to see Trey. She said that he wouldn't see her the whole time he was locked up and she really wanted to see him since he'd made the first move."
The doctor nodded. "And Trey. What about him?"
Ryan sighed. "I didn't know he was out. But he took one look at me and knew something was wrong. I lost my temper and…"
"Why'd you lose your temper?"
"He's not a part of my life anymore. It pissed me off that he thinks everything is okay between us when it's not…"
"When's the last time you talked to him?"
Ryan sighed again. "You think I should explain to him what happened before I shut him down."
"You said that he looked at you and he knew. I just want to get a feel as to if you're close with him or not."
"Oh." He liked that she actually explained to him what she was doing. He respected her for it. "We were close…once."
"Like Seth?"
"No. Not like Seth. Trey, he always had my back. He…when I was little, he'd try and protect me from my dad if he could. And when we got older and my dad was gone, it was me and him against whoever Mom was fucking that day. Self-preservation. We covered for each other, fought each other's battles. Not because we liked each other, but because we were family."
"Okay…"
"He knows me, though. Again, not because he gives a shit, but because we grew up together. He can read me, he taught me how to act, how to hide pain, how to take a hit. He knows…"
"He's your brother. Does he know about Seth? What happened to him? What happened to you?"
"I don't think so," Ryan admitted.
"Why aren't you in touch anymore?"
Ryan took a deep breath. "He called me last Thanksgiving. Said that he wanted to see me. But he's his mother's son and I knew that he needed something. And he knew I'd do it. He had a bad debt hanging over him and was catching hell in jail and needed me to take a stolen car to this guy. I ended up taking a few hits for him, interest, of course and when I went to tell Trey that the job was done I told him that I couldn't keep doing things like that. My life was here."
"Your life is here," she replied.
"Yeah."
"Are you going to see your mother again? Make sure she's okay?"
"No," he answered honestly. "I don't want to see her. I'll be eighteen in a few months and she'll have no hold over me. I can't be responsible for her."
"You're only responsible for yourself. Not your mother. Not Sandy or Kirsten. Not Seth…"
Ryan met her gaze, shaky now.
"You have to focus on yourself for a change. What's right for you. What you need to do to move on with your life. A part of that is closure."
"Closure. With Seth?"
"With everything. You have a lot of open wounds, Ryan, and they're not going to go away on their own. Dawn will always be your mother and she's always going to have that connection with you. Trey's your brother. And even though I think you consider Seth a brother, too…he's not here anymore."
"Trey's still here," Ryan stated.
"I'm not encouraging you to talk to him. I want you to think about what you need right now to feel better."
"Okay."
"Okay?" she asked.
"I'll think about it. Thanks," he said after a pause.
"Are you going to come in tomorrow?"
"I thought my next appointment was on…" he started.
"Not for a session. But if you want to come in or call me, that's what I'm here for. Your next session is next week but you said a lot today and I don't want you to lose the momentum, all right?"
Ryan nodded. He stood up and walked to the door. He felt better. At least, less overwhelmed. She was listening to him and being objective and it helped to have her to talk to where he didn't have to worry about her feelings or where her loyalties lay.
Ryan parked his Hummer outside the convenience store and locked the doors out of habit as he hopped out. He ended up going to this store almost daily to pick up assorted sodas and snacks and the clerks knew him by name now. Rosa had been watching The Learning Channel and decided that the amount of caffeine they ingested was unhealthy and had stocked the fridge with decaf sodas, setting off Kirsten and Summer.
Monica was working today and she turned to smile at him as the door jingled as he entered. "There's our favorite customer, cutting school again?"
"Now, Monica, I've told you that I'm on a leave of absence, I have permission to be out and about. Besides, it's almost seven, school's been out for hours," Ryan replied. Monica was an older lady with streaks of gray lining her dark hair. She worked every other night just to get out of the house.
"Actually, I'm really glad you're hear, can you do me a favor?" she asked.
"Sure," he replied. Monica had trouble with her back and she'd asked him for help moving heavy crates before. She reminded him of Teresa's mom with her motherly tendencies and her ever-present rosary peeking from the pocket of her smock. She'd often told Ryan stories about her grown-up children. Her son-in-law owned the store.
"It'll only take a second,"
"Can I have a lollipop?" he teased, following her behind the counter.
"If you earn it," she chuckled.
There was a large box of bottled water hanging off a pallet in the storeroom.
"If you can just get this in front of the fridge for me, I can unpack it, but the hand-truck's broken and you know how these rich ladies get if they don't have their Evian," Monica said.
"No problem," he shrugged. It was strange that he had developed such an easy rapport with the woman when he was having such issues with communicating with everyone else. Maybe because Monica was a stranger and even though she probably knew about his tragic history, she didn't mention it.
"Thanks, honey. You're such a good kid," she said gratefully, following him to the designated refrigerator.
"You're welcome. But I have to be getting back, we're out of sodas again and they get kind of grouchy without their carbonation," he said, putting the box down.
"And you're welcome to a lollipop," she said, returning to behind the counter as he gathered what he came for. "Tom's going to have to start paying you if you keep this up."
"Well, lucky for Tom, I work for candy," Ryan smiled, plucking a lollipop from the candy stand and slipping it into his pocket.
The bell jingled again as she rang up his sodas but Ryan didn't react, he was bagging his sodas so Monica didn't have to.
"Thanks, sweetie. See you next time," Monica said, accepting his money.
"Get behind the counter," a gruff voice ordered.
"What…" he started, but he recognized the gun barrel pressing against his back.
"Now, punk…keep that drawer, open, bitch, I want all your money…"
Ryan didn't turn around and stumbled forward as the man shoved him behind the counter with Monica.
"Take it," Monica said, stepping back, her eyes wide with fear. She latched onto Ryan's arm.
The man held the gun on them as he raided the drawer, stuffing cash and rolls of coins into a bag from the counter.
Ryan glanced at Monica and she motioned beside him. He looked down and saw a small button labeled with duct tape. Silent alarm. He moved his elbow and managed to press it down without alerting the gunman.
God, was he some kind of disaster magnet? Shit, he had enough evidence in his seventeen years to prove it. He couldn't take his eyes off the man's gun and the only thing keeping him steady was Monica's tight grip on his arm.
"Where's the safe?" the man asked, finishing with the cash register and focusing on them fully again.
"There isn't one, we make deposits…" Monica started.
Monica's grip tightened as the man pulled the trigger and her smock stained with red.
Ryan managed to catch her before she hit the floor, falling to his knees to support her. Her brown eyes were dark with pain and horror.
"Fuck…" he put his hands over the expanding red and tried to stop the bleeding.
"Where's the safe?" the man asked again.
"I don't…" Ryan started. He winced as three more gunshots deafened him and one of the displays clattered to the floor.
"Where's the fucking safe?"
Ryan felt the gun barrel press against the side of his head. It was hot from it's recent firing.
"I don't know."
The gun stayed against his head. "You're fucking lying…"
"He doesn't even work here, we don't have a safe," Monica whispered.
"Goddammit!" The man yelled suddenly, firing another shot and dislodging plaster as the bullet lodged into the ceiling.
"I have to help her, you have to let me help her…" Ryan said suddenly. He couldn't space out. Monica had kids, she had grandkids, she was a good woman and she was bleeding to death in front of him, in his hands.
"Shut up…" the man said, pressing the gun against his head again.
Ryan closed his eyes. He could hear Monica murmuring what sounded like a prayer. He could hear the man's panicked breathing. He could hear his own heart beating.
He waited for the peace that he hoped death could bring. He waited for visions of his life and what he was leaving behind. He waited for the moment of clarity.
The gun clicked.
It was louder than the gunshot.
And Ryan wasn't dead. Before he could even think, the man slapped him roughly with the gun, knocking his head back against the counter.
He didn't let go of Monica, her blood still soaking between his fingers as he tried to keep pressure on her wound.
The man stormed away from them but Ryan didn't move. He'd lost the capability to think.
Monica closed her eyes and Ryan knew suddenly that she wouldn't last much longer.
Her blood had soaked into his clothes, the cuffs of his shirt stiff with blood.
The windows burst suddenly and he leaned over her instinctively.
"CLEAR! Get the medics in here!"
"Kid? You okay? Where are you hurt?"
Cops. The cops broke the windows, not crazy bitch with the empty gun, he seemed to be buried under a pile of cops.
"She's shot," Ryan said as paramedics hurried over to them.
"Your face is cut," the cop said.
"She's shot…" he couldn't think of what he was supposed to say.
"We've got her, Chip, get him out of here," one of the medics said.
The cop leaned over and took his wrists as they moved Monica onto a backboard.
"Look at me, kid, what's your name?" the cop asked gently.
But all Ryan could see was the pool of blood he was sitting in.
"He's in shock…"
Ryan felt the officer pull him to his feet and search him. He wanted to go home.
"Ryan, you're Ryan?"
He nodded vaguely. He was disconnected. He wanted to go home.
"You're Sandy Cohen's kid, aren't you?"
"Sandy." He needed to see Sandy. Sandy would take him home.
"We're going to get you outside, okay?"
Ryan knew he was walking but wasn't doing it consciously.
His hands were red. He was red.
"All right, Ryan, just sit down and relax, okay? It's all over, okay?"
Nothing was okay. Nothing had been okay in a long time.
He must've been sitting in an ambulance because it was bright and his arm was squeezed tight with a blood pressure cuff and something was pressed against the side of his head.
"Ryan. What's your dad's number? Sandy?"
"Sandy." Ryan needed him to tell him what to do.
"Here's his phone…"
Sandy was cold.
"He's okay. He's fine," Kirsten chanted beside him.
Ryan didn't need this. He didn't need another near-death experience. Violence. Fear.
He was too young, too fragile. He'd been through too much pain.
"We're here, god, look at all the cops," Summer said from the backseat.
The cops let them through the yellow tape fairly quickly, but not fast enough.
"Mr. Cohen? I'm Chip Jenkins, we spoke on the phone…"
"Where is he?" Kirsten asked.
"He's in the ambulance, he's in shock and a little banged up but safe and healthy…"
Sandy saw Ryan immediately. His clothes were blood-soaked and a bandage was over his swelling eye.
Sandy knew that Ryan was far from okay.
"We have to get him out of here, he's going to flip," Summer said quietly.
"He's already flipped," Kirsten whispered.
Sandy acknowledged the medic and climbed into the rig. "Ryan."
The boy blinked at him.
"Ryan…"
"I want to go home," Ryan said flatly. "Please."
Sandy turned to the medic. "Is he okay?"
"He took a nice hit to the head, but he's healthy…we're concerned about his unresponsiveness but…"
"Can we take him home?" He turned to the officer. Chip.
"I'll get a doctor to meet us at the house," Kirsten said from beside Chip, not waiting for an answer.
"I'll call Dad…" Summer said.
"Ryan. Look at me, kid…"
Ryan met his gaze.
"Can you focus on me for a few minutes?"
Ryan shook his head negatively.
"I'll get the car," Summer said. Sandy held out the keys and the girl hurried off with the officer.
Sandy focused on Ryan again.
Ryan was staring at his hands.
"We'll get you cleaned up," Sandy said gently, reaching out and taking his arm and guiding him down to the pavement.
Ryan stood up unsteadily.
"Honey, we're here…" Kirsten said, embracing the stricken boy.
Ryan responded to her, shuddering. "Kirsten."
"Summer's getting the car…" she started.
"I don't want to talk. I want to go home," he murmured.
The officer returned and pointed to where Summer had parked between a cluster of police cruisers.
"Come on, kid," Sandy urged.
Kirsten held onto Ryan's waist and guided him toward the car.
"Mr. Cohen, we'll need a statement as soon as he's capable…" Chip said.
Sandy managed to pull a card out of his wallet and held it out to the man.
Ryan didn't say anything in the car. Kirsten was sitting in the back with him and he was shaking violently despite her arm around his shoulders to steady him.
She couldn't get over the blood on him. He was covered in it.
Summer's phone rang and broke the silence as she turned into the driveway.
"We're home, honey," she whispered.
He didn't respond, he didn't even blink, his eyes staring at his hands folded in his lap.
Sandy opened her door and she urged Ryan to get out after her, steadying him. She glanced at Sandy and could see her own worry reflected on his face.
This was too much for Ryan. They had to be strong. Seth was gone but Ryan was still here. They had to be strong for him.
Summer joined them. "Dad's coming, he's bringing Ryan's doctor from…from before so they can check him over," she said.
"Thanks, Summer. Come on, Ryan," Kirsten said.
Ryan looked at her suddenly, his eyes blank. "Kirsten."
"Let's get you inside and cleaned up, okay?" Sandy said gently, urging him forward.
He submissively let them lead him into the house and to his bedroom.
"I'm going to call his shrink, see what she suggests," Sandy said, leaving her with him.
She turned to face Ryan and took his bruised face in her hands and made him look at her. "Ryan. I need you to help me, okay?"
"Kirsten." He nodded blankly.
"You need to take a shower. You need to get the blood off you, okay? Can you do that?"
He nodded again but didn't move.
"Ryan. Are you listening?"
He nodded. "Shower. Blood. Okay." He still didn't move.
"Ryan. Please, honey…" she whispered, leading him to the bathroom.
"She has kids. Grandkids. Jacob and Tori. They're twins. They're four," he said suddenly. "Her daughter's having a baby in two months. She didn't deserve to get shot, to bleed."
"Honey…" Kirsten started.
"It's not fair. I don't think its fair. He pointed the gun at her and she's dead. He put the gun to my head and it clicked. It's not fair."
Before she could respond, he turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door.
Summer joined her suddenly and put her arms around her. "You okay?"
"He's…he's not going to get over this, is he?" she asked the younger girl.
"He's tough. He's got us. We won't let him go, Kirsten," she whispered.
"Thank you," she replied, hugging the girl back.
The shower turned on and Summer released her and went to Ryan's closet. "He needs clothes. Warm things…"
"Good idea. I'll get those, could you go make some tea for him, I know he's not going to eat anything, but maybe…"
"Sure," Summer said, latching onto the task and hurrying out.
It was twenty long minutes before she heard the shower cut off. She knocked softly on the door. "Ryan, I have clothes for you…"
He opened the door enough to accept the clothes and quickly closed it again. Finally, he stepped out.
"Better?" she asked.
He shrugged, sitting down on the bed. She watched as he slowly pulled his legs up and turned away from her, curling into the fetal position. He was still shaking.
"Ryan…Ryan, what can I do?" she asked, putting her hand on his back.
"Nothing…there's nothing left to do…" he murmured.
Sandy opened the door, expecting Summer's father but didn't recognize the man at the door. "Can I help you?"
"I hope so. You're Ryan's dad, Sandy?" the man asked.
"Yes…" Sandy replied, cautious. Close enough.
"I'm Tom Lewis, I own the store. Monica, she's my mother in law…"
"Monica, the lady that was shot? How is she?" Sandy realized.
"She's going to pull through. She's tough. Ryan comes in almost every day, and when we saw the surveillance footage of the robbery…my wife made me come. How's he doing?"
"Come in," Sandy said. "He's not…he's not doing so well," he said honestly.
"We know about your son, we saw the papers but we never really connected the kid to it. This is…it's tragic. Monica's conscious and she said that he…that he saved her. If he hadn't kept pressure on her wound, she would have bled out."
Sandy nodded. "What happened? Ryan…he hasn't really said anything…"
"Single gunman," Tom started. "Ordered Ryan to get behind the counter. Apparently the man was on something, when Monica wouldn't tell him where the safe was, since we don't have one, he shot her. Shot the store up." He hesitated. "He had the gun to Ryan's head and…luckily the gun was empty. He pistol-whipped the kid and started tearing up shit and that's when the cops came in. Ryan hit the silent alarm. He saved Monica's life."
Sandy's mind was working a mile a minute.
"Was he hurt?"
"Ryan…he's upset. He's a tough kid, but he hasn't fully recovered from…the fire," Sandy said. He didn't know what to do for Ryan.
"You think I could see him? Let him know Monica's all right?"
"It might help," Sandy said. And it couldn't hurt. Ryan was nearly catatonic, he'd try anything.
"He seems like a good kid. Why isn't he in school?"
"He's having some problems readjusting," Sandy admitted. He didn't want to air Ryan's problems to this man, no matter his good intentions. He gently pushed open Ryan's door.
Ryan was still curled in a ball. Kirsten was sitting beside him, stroking the back of his head.
"Kirsten, this is Tom. He owns the store," Sandy introduced.
Kirsten reached out and shook his hand. "The lady…"
"She's going to be okay," Tom said.
Kirsten turned to Ryan. "You hear that, Ryan?"
Ryan was shaking and didn't respond.
"He hasn't said anything since he laid down," she admitted.
"It might not be the best time," Sandy said to Tom.
The man nodded. "Can I leave my number?"
Sandy walked the man into the kitchen.
"If there's anything we can do…" Tom started.
"Thank you. Ryan will appreciate you having come by when he's better."
"What happened to your son was tragic…I hate to see the kid so upset."
Sandy didn't know what to say. He held out his card.
He was cold.
That was why he was shivering.
Everything was red.
He was cold.
Someone was with him.
Kirsten.
Kirsten.
He was home.
"Kirsten."
"I'm here, honey. Ryan?"
He blinked. His eyelids were heavy. His head hurt.
"Sit up, Ryan…please?"
She was touching his shoulders. He sat up slowly. He was in his room. Home.
"Ryan."
He looked at her. She was worried. Desperately worried. "What's the matter?"
"Honey…"
He remembered though. Bullets. Blood. Click.
"Talk to me."
"I can't."
"Yes, you can, you're doing it now…"
"I need to…Kirsten, I need…"
She wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in her warmth. But he was too cold.
He was too cold and too tired of feeling like this. Like he was nothing. Like he had nothing to live for.
"Ryan, honey, come back to us, don't shut us out…"
"I didn't feel anything," he said suddenly.
"What?"
"When the gun was to my head. I didn't feel anything."
"Were you scared?" she whispered.
"I'm scared now."
"Why?"
He didn't know. Not fully. He couldn't express it. It was like everything shut off with that click. "I'm cold. Inside."
"I'm sorry…"
"I think I'm broken…" he admitted. Why else would he be stuck in this emotional limbo? He couldn't fix it.
"We'll fix it. Trust me," she murmured, holding him tightly.
"I do. I'm cold."
It was everything. He was cold.
"Kirsten? I have tea."
Ryan recognized her. "Summer."
"Nice to hear your voice, Chino. Will you drink something?"
She pressed a mug into his hands. He was cold but it was warm.
Kirsten began to rub his back with one hand.
"Drink it…it's got sugar, Kirsten didn't make it," Summer urged.
He raised it to his lips. It was sweet and warm. He felt it trickle down his throat to his stomach.
"Better?"
He nodded. She took the mug from his shaking hands.
"How're you feeling?"
He met Summer's gaze. "I don't know."
"Tom was here," Kirsten said.
Tom. "From the store?"
"Monica's going to be okay. She's not dead," Kirsten said.
"Not dead." She wasn't dead. "But the blood…" He looked at his hands.
Kirsten took his hands in hers, her nails a pale pink. "She's okay. You're okay," she said.
"I'm okay." He shook his head, hearing his words. "No. I'm not okay."
"Chino. Get up. You need air," Summer said.
He shook his head. "No. Home…"
"Ryan." Kirsten embraced him again.
He put his arms around her. She was warm.
"Air. Do you want me to get air?"
She pulled him to his feet and steadied him. "I want you to keep talking, okay?"
Summer took one of his arms and wrapped both hands around his arm. "We've got you."
Sandy answered the door, the house already brimming with people. Caleb and Dr. Roberts; Chip, the officer; Zach, Lindsay and Julie Cooper.
"Can I help you?"
"Mr. Cohen? I'm Trey Atwood."
Sandy studied him. Blond. Eyes like Ryan. Black slacks, dress shirt. Closely shaved hair. "Come in."
Trey didn't move. "I'm not here to make trouble. I can't imagine what you think of me, but…"
"Ryan doesn't talk. Your slate is clean," Sandy said after a beat. He couldn't forbid Ryan from seeing his brother.
"Why all the cars? Am I interrupting?"
"Come inside," Sandy said, motioning for the man to enter. Trey followed him into the kitchen.
"Okay. I don't want to upset him. Ma…she's a mess. She told me what happened, the fire…but she doesn't care about people the way…the way normal people do. The way Ryan does. He's special…"
"I know," Sandy nodded. He knew.
"I'm sorry about your son. I wish I could've known him. When I saw Ryan the other night…he was just…off. I knew something had happened…"
"Something more has happened, Trey. Tonight…" Sandy started.
Kirsten and Summer entered with Ryan's dazed body between them.
Trey looked at Ryan and his face changed. He was stricken, his blue eyes pure. "Ry…"
Ryan shook his head and stepped back. "Don't…"
Trey ignored him and stepped forward, embracing Ryan tightly.
And Sandy saw Ryan break.
He started choking with sobs in Trey's arms.
"I know, man…you're cool…I got you…" Trey murmured.
"I can't do this," Ryan cried, struggling.
"Shh…" Trey whispered, not releasing him until Ryan literally deflated into his brother's arms. "Shh…you need to rest, bro…" He met Sandy's gaze, worried.
"Sandy," Kirsten called, startled by the man's effect on Ryan.
"Trey. I'll show you where his room is," Summer offered.
Kirsten immediately went to his side as they walked out of the kitchen. "What is he doing here?"
"He came for Ryan…not to take him, he heard about Seth and was worried after seeing him the other night."
"Should we…" she started, accepting his arms around her.
"He seems sincere, Kirsten," Sandy said. "And if it helps, then…I think we have to let him try to help."
"I'm going to check on the people upstairs," she said, steadying herself and hurrying from the room.
Sandy found himself going to Ryan's room. Summer was standing nervously by the door and seemed relieved to see him.
"Everything okay?"
"He's still crying…" Summer whispered.
"Can you go check on Kirsten for me?" he asked and she nodded, hurrying off.
Trey was sitting on the edge of the bed listening to Ryan's choked mumbles and stroking his hair gently. "Okay, kid…okay…I'm here and I'm going to be lookout for a while so you can get some rest, okay? You have to rest…you're not making any sense and I know how much you hate feeling like this, all right? You have to relax and let your mind slow down…" Trey said, his voice low and soothing but when he glanced at Sandy, he could see the horror in his eyes. Trey loved his little brother, that much was obvious.
Ryan finally settled down, turning away and facing the wall, returning to the fetal position as Trey continued to talk softly to him. "You can do it, you're tired and upset and if you rest, it'll all be better when you wake up, okay? Just relax and breathe deep like you used to, okay?"
Once Ryan lapsed into what they perceived as sleep, Trey turned to him. "Why is he talking about the robbery? He hasn't talked about the robbery in years…"
"What?" Sandy asked, hesitating. "The robbery just happened tonight…"
Trey's face flashed with confusion. "Shit…I thought he was talking about…shit. What happened?"
"He went to the store for sodas or something equally unimportant…he goes almost daily, so he knows the clerks and while he was there, someone came in with a gun. They shot the clerk and…they put a gun to his head…but the guy was out of bullets…that's where the bruise on his face came from," Sandy said quietly.
"Fucking kid…he's got the Atwood luck, that's for sure…"
"What robbery were you talking about?" Sandy asked.
Trey sighed. "He was with Dad when Dad robbed the store that he got sent up for. Fucking Dad…sorry about the language, but if you knew him, you'd know it was applicable…anyway, Dad decided to take Ryan with him that night. Something set him off and Dad snapped, holding up the store. He punched the clerk, didn't shoot him, just knocked him down and Ryan…Ryan wouldn't leave. Ryan stayed with the guy, it was an old guy and by the time Dad decided to take off, the cops were there."
Sandy had no idea.
"He…he always felt guilty for it. Ma didn't help and hell, I probably didn't help. Dad never spoke to him again, said Ry betrayed him. But Ryan just couldn't leave that old man there, bleeding…he couldn't do it and he's been paying for it ever since. He's always getting hassled for doing the right thing, he's always getting fucked for being the good guy…" Trey whispered.
"Have you ever seen him like this?"
Trey hesitated. "Not like this. Never like this…"
"But you know how to calm him down…" Sandy started. He knew Trey wasn't telling him something.
"He…he doesn't talk much. But stuff affects him deeper…he got into this fight once, fucked the guy up, broke the kid's arm and he just…he snapped. Started rambling on about things that had happened years ago…he just needed to run down and when he woke up he was fine." Trey returned his attention to Ryan. "I'm really worried about him."
"Me, too."
"He really cared about your son?"
"They…Seth considered Ryan to be his brother," Sandy stated honestly.
Trey nodded. "Can I stay with him a while?"
"Sure. I'll give you your privacy…but if he needs anything…" Sandy started.
"I know who to call. Thanks, Mr. Cohen. For letting me stay with him…"
Sandy nodded, leaving Ryan with his brother.