They didn't question the sound at the door.

They didn't know that I'd been coming to Cami's room to apologize—that I'd wanted to say that I was sorry for whatever it was that Colton had done to her, that I was sorry for the scene I'd caused in front of her.

To ask her if she was alright...

Instead I found her in bed with my brother.

The flashbacks came in full force, then. The reminders of finding Leah in bed with him flashed across my mind and I saw red.

I was halfway down the stairs trying to scrub the image out of my eyes when I heard the raised voices.

"She's...from the prison and...doesn't know..."

"Keep your voice down, Richard."

My parent's voices got more clear as I descended the stairs but kept to the shadows just in case.

"Cami does not need to be staying here. I never agreed with it and you still went ahead and did it anyway."

"That girl needs our help, and you know that as much as anyone else."

"You're only doing this because of the money, right? The Power of Attorney if she chooses to let us adopt her? How are you going to convince her, by being mother of the year, Maria?"

"This is not about the money! Maybe for you it would be, but I could care less. I want Cami to come into her full inheritance the day she turns eighteen and I want nothing to do with it."

"Sure. Because Maria Hartingrove never cared about the money, the pro-bono lawyer fighting for the under dogs."

"Don't you mock me. This girl is suffering and needed a home; what was I supposed to do—let her go to the Maynard's with the father who'd a known predator? Over my dead body. She got hurt on the previous family's watch and I refuse to let that happen to her, too. The boys are protective of her; they'll watch over her at school."

My father snorted. I could see him in my mind shaking his head and pacing like he always did when he got angry.

"Who cares? She's like a stray that we shouldn't have brought into our home, you know why?"

He didn't give her a chance to respond before he answered his own question.

"Because they bring back fleas. You want our house infested with her issues, her problems? Grey and Parker are barely keeping it together as it is, we almost got sued by the Wright's because of what Parker did, and your son was the one who instigated it!"

"He's your son, too, Richard."

"No. He's not. Not anymore. You know that. You know why."

"Don't say that. You know it's not true."

"Goddammit Maria, I've said it once and I'll say it a million more times: that punk is not my son. Parker's mine for sure. We both know that. But Greylin? No. Never. He never has been. Why would I want a son who doesn't even want to help himself? He could have had surgery yesterday and be talking within a month. He doesn't care, so neither do I."

"He doesn't have to be blood to be considered your son; you've raised him since he was a baby. I don't know why he doesn't want to have the surgery, but that is his decision and it's his journey! We can't force him into anything. You've been there for him his whole life Richard, how could you walk away from him now, after everything?"

"I was there because I thought he was MINE! Now he's nothing more than a pathetic excuse of a boy desperately trying to be a man, but he won't take responsibility for his actions! If he did, he would've had that surgery months ago, when it was offered to him in the first place! No son of mine would ever be so much of a coward!"

"Stop it! We've had this fight over and over again so just stop!"

I couldn't stop the chills from crawling along my arms. Grey wasn't my father's biological son?

"Yeah, well, I made sure we were even after what you did, didn't I? And I promise you Maria, if you try to push me any further on this, you'll see just how much more I can push the boundaries."

"You don't need to throw in my face, again, how you got back at me for what happened almost twenty years ago, Richard. Trust me. I know."

There was no hiding the pain swimming in my mother's voice at his words. What the hell had happened here?

"Good. I'm glad you know, so that way I don't have to go out and remind you again what happens when you betray your husband."

"At least I didn't cause a homicide from my actions!"

The sounds in the kitchen ceased, all insects outside the windows stopped chirping.

Maybe even my heart stopped beating.

"Yet another reason for us to not have that girl in our home. What if she recognizes me one day? What if she goes to visit her father and starts digging into her past? Just...give her back to the social worker and be done with her."

"I will not subject her to the outside world. She's in the system because of you—because of what I did to push you to be with her mother. So I guess it's my fault, too, then isn't it? We have a responsibility to make sure she's taken care of. Otherwise...how are we any better than what her father, and what he did to her mom?"

Camille Astor was the girl who's father murdered his wife in cold blood after cheating on him.

My father was the man who'd started it all.

"Whatever, Maria. Do what you want. But if you don't get that Power of Attorney over her, it'll all be for nothing. She'll have the means to do whatever she wants, and if she finds out our connection to what happened, I don't see the daughter of Michael Astor being very forgiving, especially not after how she grew up. Be. Careful. Otherwise you'll have more than a vengeful teenager on your hands."

My mother sighed out and then there was the telltale clink of glasses and a wine bottle. My father had already gone the other way and out the door. Where, exactly, he was going I had no idea, nor did I care.

Instead of confronting my mother like I wanted, my phone buzzed in my pocket and I fished it out quickly to silence it so she didn't find me spying only to find that it was a message from Alec.

I didn't waste time dragging myself outside to the carport, grateful that my father's BMW was already gone, steaming tire tracks left in his wake.

Funny. I didn't even hear him leave.

It took thirty minutes to make it to our spot, the same one that I'd stolen from Grey like he'd stolen Leah from me all those years ago.

Before, it'd been filled with half-assed graffiti and a stray penis and hairy ballsack painted on the walls of the cave, but after me?

I tugged the bag of spray paint and other tools over my shoulder and trudged inside, using my phone as a light to guide me even as the beams from the moon shone down brightly.

The crickets were chirping out in full song, the field a darkened symphonic masterpiece around me.

Alec was already planted at the entrance, curled up into a ball crying and shaking back and forth, back and forth, this whimpered howls echoing through the cavern around us.

His dark hair shone in the moonlight and his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't get the cigarette to light.

I yanked it out of his hands with little effort. He only coughed and cleared his throat before looking up at me with wide blue tear filled eyes.

It killed me to see him this way, but there was nothing I could do.

There was nothing anyone could do. It was all on Alec, but he was too scared.

So, I stayed with him. I made sure he was never alone.

I was there for him the way I should've been with Grey, but also...there was another reason I couldn't leave him by himself. Something I was too scared to put a name too. Maybe that made me as bad off as Alec, but I didn't want to hurt myself because of it.

"Come on," I said, tugging him up in my arms and pulling him with me.

We'd done this so many times, I'd lost count.

But each time, a new piece of artwork decorated the space around us, breathing life into something only my brother and Alec had truly appreciated before.

Now, I guessed Cami would be the one to bask in its entirety, too.

What had started as a 'fuck you' to my brother for stealing my first girlfriend had morphed into a way to keep him here on this earth—to make him see the beauty in all things and appreciate life for what it was worth.

I didn't believe my art really could do all of that, but after what Alec had said...maybe it could help, if only a little.

Tonight, however, I did not paint for the beauty of this world.

No, tonight I painted for the violence, for the villainy, for the blood and pain splashed across the lines connecting my family to Cami's.

I carved out lines and sketches while Alec sat and attempted a few caricatures I'd taught him last time. I didn't have the time or patience to teach him anything tonight.

Not tonight.

Not after everything my parents had been hiding from me had finally come to life in one of the most gruesome of ways.

I painted in blood red arcs and dark blues and purples that resembled bruises.

A quilted patchwork of colors and sketches and pain, so much goddamned pain.

My chest hurt.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

None of this was supposed to be this way.

"Parker."

Alec was wrapping his arms around my back as I sobbed into the cave, paintbrush dripping in red paint that was supposed to be the blood of the mother spilling out in a puddle around the gunshot from her brain.

I flung the paintbrush against the wall and turned around to hold him back, and for the first time something in me snapped.

Something forbidden that I'd kept the walls around.

Maybe now that everything was destroyed and broken, I could let myself break, too.

Maybe Alec would help me pick up the pieces, just like I'd done for him, time and time again.

His arms didn't leave me for the entire night.