The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 181

They live close by, their house practically a replica of this one and I guess they came over for a reason and got into it. My mom, as sweet and unassuming as she may appear has always been a lot like Sylvana. A momma any child can run to, even when they hit their thirties and I guess it’s partly why I wanted to come here and see her.

I needed her.

I sit Bree on the couch as she continues to sob and put a protective arm around her, silently watching him walking around like a caged animal and feel that detachment for him I’ve had for a while, when he’s this version.

“She knocked it over, not me!” He barks at my mom and I scowl furiously that he would dare talk to her like that. The woman who loved and raised him and saved him from a life that was destroying him. My mom takes a deep breath to calm herself and turns to him appealingly.

“Rylanne, you know what drinking does to you… She came here to see me. I think you should leave and let her do that.” My mom is trying for gentle and appealing to his better side, but Bree’s wailing and sobbing seems to be fueling him. He can’t stop glaring at her over my mom’s small height and red hair and it’s agitating everyone.

“So she can sob on about how shitty a husband I am and make me look like an asshole to my own family?” He’s ranting, stamping, and my anger is simmering only below the surface. I have to take breaths to cool myself before I throw something at his stubborn pig-headed face.

“You called her.” Bree sobs softly and then breaks into another pathetic sob and my mom turns on him angrily.

“You told me you cut ties with her, Rylanne? The affair was over. Why did you do that?” She’s losing her cool and I can see him bubbling up rather than backing down and know only too well all the signs

are there. Rylanne has been drinking a lot. I can quickly summarize that Bree caught him calling his new side bitch or broke-off side bitch and came running to my mom to break her heart again. He followed in a rage and world war three broke out.

Nice, Rylanne, you complete asshole.

He can’t keep using the excuse of a shitty childhood to justify the shitty person he has become. Bree may be a doorstep, fragile and old-fashioned, but she deserves so much more. She won’t leave him though. She views his affairs as part of his addiction problem and refuses to acknowledge he can control it. He’s a cheating scumbag and she won’t divorce him.

I get up and walk over to my mom to pull her away by the arm. She’s getting too close and he’s like a simmering pot that’s going to blow. It wouldn’t be the first time he has started smashing things up, and he has punched my dad in the face before. If he ever laid a hand on my mom, I would stab him with the nearest sharp thing. My protector psycho switch is angling to be flicked and I haul her back with me to give him room.

“I didn’t fucking call her. She called me, and I had no clue who it was. She’s overreacting… Making me jump through hoops when I’m doing more than enough to make up for what I did.” He slurs a little and stumbles into the bookcase when he tries to pace back, to where he had been before. More evidence of how wasted he really is, and I cannot even imagine living with someone like him. Bree needs her head examined and I thank my lucky stars that Arrick is amazing.

He really is.

Rylanne and I have always had a sort of standoff relationship, he always knew that if he ever dared to upset me that Arry would have no qualms about breaking his face and I think in a way it’s always left him a little unsure around me. Ben was always the one to control him, but since he moved out and

married Grace and left to go stay in long island, Rylanne has become my mom’s constant problem. Rylanne is only getting worse as he gets older and his drinking bouts are more frequent.

“Mom, take Bree upstairs and I’ll make sure Rylanne goes home.” I pull my mom by the cardigan to get her attention, knowing when it’s a futile cause and knowing that if she takes the source of his rage away then he might be more manageable. Not that I want to be left alone with him, but I have more chance of calm when my mom leaves.

He knows he can tantrum and behave like a massive bully around her and she won’t say anything about it, but he actually turns it off when faced with his siblings who won’t put up with the same shit from him. I don’t want my mom to hear what I have to say to him. They pandered to us all because we were all broken in our own ways and sometimes my mom really needs to bring out the harsh and take us all in hand. She’s too soft and good hearted to be the firm hand we need.

Oddly, my mom takes heed of me and catches Bree’s hand as she passes to pull her out of the room. I don’t stop to ponder the importance of that and face my brother instead. He’s smirking at me like he thinks I have a nerve and sways around a little. I notice though he steps back and gives the same hint that he’s always been wary about how he treats me.

I’m scared, my heart beating fast and my body jingling with nerves, but I don’t let him see it at all. I pull up all my courage to look brave and lift my chin defiantly. That little warrior inside of me who pops up when faced with a man who thinks he can throw his weight around. Arry taught me to never back down and he would be proud of me if he were here. In fact, he would probably be standing in front of me and sitting Rylanne on his ass if he were here.

God, Arrick, I wish you were here.

“You’re going to go home and sleep it off. Then later when Dad’s back, you’re going to sit down with your wife with them and talk this out, like an adult. Sober! Don’t you dare come into this home and start

this shit here. This is our safe haven, Rylanne, and you have no right to bring this kind of shit into it or bully Bree into submission when she runs here for the same kind of support. Some of us depend on the sanity and calm that mom and dad built here. Who the hell do you think you are? Marriage does not equal ownership. She has a right to come here for the same kind of safety the rest of us do and you should learn some god dam respect for your parents, if not your wife. For all they did for us in bringing us into their home and giving us a chance at better lives. Stop disgracing them and throwing it back in their faces. Grow the fuck up.” Tears bite at my eyes when I say this to him, low and steady, the tone severe and strong and he stops scowling at me and blinks hard before swallowing. I have never dressed him down like this, this was always Ben’s job, but he’s not here to kick Rylanne’s ass into gear.

“You have no clue what I have been through.” He starts with the same whimpering victim shit that he always plays my parents with and I snap this time. It will never work on me and never has.

“Really? ME? I have no clue what you have been through? Is that right? Tell me, Rylanne, how many times did your daddy hold you down and rape you in between beatings, huh? How many times were you defiled and stripped bare of all dignity and made to endure some things so horrific that you wanted to die rather than keep living through it? Being beaten was a far easier cruelty to deal with than what I endured when he was in the mood for something less violent. So don’t you dare fucking tell me that I do not know what you feel or what you went through. Look at me… All the reasons I could make excuses for being a complete fuck up like you. Am I abusing Arrick, cheating on him and drinking myself stupid while making his life a misery?”

It comes out loud and angry and so very emotional. I’m shocked at even myself, because I have never uttered any of this to my brothers before. They knew, of course they did. My mom made sure all her children were aware of each other’s reasons for their being, to teach us compassion. Never have I said any of this to Rylanne before now and he seems startled.

I’m sick to my stomach as my own words filter through at me and I realize how much shit I do throw at Arry because of my past. The way I behave and shut him off sometimes. The diva I can be when I go

into defensive mode. I try to push it aside and concentrate on the here and now, but a tiny aching bubble sets off inside of me.

“I’m trying.” Rylanne breaks a little and his eyes glaze over as his body sags. I waiver a little, but not enough to feel less pissed at him. He’s a grown man in his thirties, he can’t keep behaving like this, making Bree’s life a misery.

“Then try harder. Stop making the people who love you suffer because you’re so fucking self-absorbed. Stop making her feel like she’s to blame for your issues.” I bite this sentence at him and swallow hard when a huge pointy arrow metaphorically pokes me in the face.

Likewise, Sophie.

I try to brush it away, but even as I am glaring at him as he crumbles into a drunken wreck and slumps in the nearest chair I am feeling decidedly ravaged with guilt. I can’t shake the big nodding head image of Jake in my brain, smiling at me with a dumb expression.

Good advice there, Sophie, try taking heed.

“Go home. Go to sleep. Dad will want to see you when he finds out you went off in this house. You know how he feels about that shit here.” I sound more commanding than angry now and I’m losing my rage at him as he reverts to pathetic instead of tantrumming bully. I get that Rylanne is fucked up, but I really have no patience for it. Our pasts are not an excuse to be idiots to those who take care of us.

Shit.

“When did you get so … Soooo… Bossy?” Rylanne gets up, half hauling himself and half falling out of the chair and I wonder just how much he’s had to drink. I make a move to catch him but decide not. Letting him fall might be a suitable punishment, especially if he face planks the table. A sore face would

be the least of what he deserves for doing this crap time and again. Might knock some sense into that dumb head.

“I think it comes from living with Carreros. They wouldn’t take this shit, and they encourage their women not to either. Bree could maybe use one as a husband instead of you and learn some self- worth.” I spit it sarcastically, but the message isn’t wrong. They do teach their women to have a belief in their importance. I am who I am because of Arrick and how he always supports me, raises me up and pushes me to be better in myself. He helped mold me into this spoiled little Madame who has been way too pampered by him for too long.

“Don’t say that, I do love her.” He mumbles incoherently as he staggers to the door and I find myself sighing at him.

I’m softening with his calmer attitude, but I’m still giving him a wide berth. Knowing that Rylanne can change mood and direction in the blink of an eye. My words have had more impact on myself than him I think and as I follow him slowly, intending to walk him home, at least I cannot shake the spewing realization that I have some serious thinking to do when I get back here.

“Then treat her like you do. She doesn’t deserve this.”

It’s not lost on me. The comparison.

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