My mouth drops open. “Shit. Is Lachlan in trouble?”
Brigs frowns, his blue blue eyes becoming positively icy. “Hard to say. I don’t think so. Lachlan is a hard-hitter and sometimes he doesn’t know his own strength. The coach knows that. Fuck, he encourages it from him. But even if the team isn’t concerned, Lachlan is to blame if Denny isn’t better by the first game.”
I’m not even sure how to process that. The last thing Lachlan needs is blame.
I’m fumbling for words, wanting to hear from Brigs that everything is going to be all right but Lachlan comes out of the kitchen, eyes on the ground, brushing past us to the door.
“Where you going?” Brigs asks him.
“For a walk,” Lachlan mumbles, shutting the door behind him.
“I should go after him,” I tell Brigs but he puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Give him space,” he says, giving me an imploring look. “Believe me.”
“He just must feel so horrible.” I cross my arms across my chest, feeling cold all of a sudden. I don’t want Lachlan to go for a walk, alone, lost to his inner torment. He needs me to be there, to pull him out of the dark.
“I reckon he felt something horrible to start with,” Brigs says. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have hit so hard.” He gives me a steady look, placing his hands in his pockets. “Listen, I don’t profess to know about your relationship with Lachlan. I barely know my own relationship with him sometimes. You know, I was just leaving school when we brought him into the family. I’d grown up with a lot of foster brothers and sisters coming in and out of the house but for some reason Lachlan stuck, even though he was nearly impossible to get to know. My mum saw something in him and didn’t want to give up. I suppose he saw the same in us. But it was a rough ride. And I was so angry at him, at this young fuck who acted like we didn’t do anything for him. I just didn’t understand his demons.” He pauses, looking away, his expression pained. “I do know though. I know what it’s like to live in guilt, to believe you have no worth at all. I do.”
He clears his throat and looks at the floor. “I’ve been going through some stuff, to put it mildly. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for Lachlan, a long time ago, when he needed it. I’ll be there for him now though, you can bet on that. The thing is,” he glances at me, “he’s reverting. Slowly but surely. I don’t know why, I can only guess. It’s never not going to be an issue though. He’s never going to shed his past because his past made him who he is. People with addictions…it’s naïve to think they’ll one day be cured. That’s not how it works. It’s an ongoing illness, you see? An illness for which there is no real cure, just a way to manage it. And he can’t manage it alone. He needs people around him who are supportive. You understand?”
His tone makes me a bit defensive. “I understand. I am there for him.”
“I know. You care a lot about him.”
I stand up straighter. “I love him,” I say, my voice soft but my words strong.
“That’s even better,” he says. “But sometimes love is not enough. You have to know that he’s going to hurt you again and again and again and you’re going to have to learn to love him even when you hate him. That’s the reality. That’s the facts. You need to know that if you truly love Lachlan and want to be there for him, want to see him out of this hell, you’re going to be put through the ringer and spat out. And it will keep on happening. It’s the ugly truth and not many people are built for that kind of responsibility.”
He’s watching me closely for my response but I’m still feeling so defensive that I barely let the words in. He doesn’t know the kind of person that I am, what I’ve gone through in my own life.
Also, I refuse to believe that love isn’t enough. How can it not be enough when it feels like it can change the whole entire world, if not just every fiber of my being? It has to be more than enough.
“I’m built for more than you might think,” I finally say.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says. “He’s a good guy, you know. Really good. Heart of an angel, a warrior, whatever you want to call it. It’s just such a bloody shame this whole thing. So strong on the outside, a scared, abandoned little boy on the inside.”
“He’s not a hopeless case,” I tell him, knowing my words mean little from someone like me, someone new to his life.
“No, I suppose not,” he says with a heavy sigh. “But it sure does feel like it sometimes.” He brings out his phone and checks the time. “Do you want me to stay with you until he gets back? He, uh, might not be sober when he returns from his walk.”
I blink at him. “Might not be sober?”
“He’s most likely at the pub down the street right now.”
I feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me. “He’s drinking? Well why the hell didn’t you let me go after him? I could have prevented that!”
He shakes his head slowly. “No, you couldn’t have. You can’t. What you think you can convince him not to drink when you tell him he shouldn’t? When you set rules? That’s not how it works.”
“He listens to me!”
“What did I just say about love not being enough? He’s not going to listen to you, Kayla. This is all up to him and when he’s in a certain frame of mind, it’s like you don’t even exist.”
My throat feels like it’s closing up, it’s impossible to swallow. “Please. Please can we go get him from the pub? You don’t know he won’t listen. To me or you. I can’t just let him drink himself silly. He might hurt himself. He might get into a fight, hurt someone else. What if he stays out all night? Fuck, you just said that he’s feeling horrible for what he did at practice…I can’t…”
I can’t just stay here and imagine it.
I turn around, grabbing my purse from the shelf and my keys. “I’m going to find him. What pub is it?”
“Kayla,” he warns, stepping in front of the door.
Even though Brigs is a tall, strong man, he moves easily when I push him to the side. “Don’t tell me then, I’ll check every single pub around.” I give him a level stare. “I love your brother, okay? I’m not going to let him do this to himself.”
He looks up, contemplating. “Fine,” he says. “I’m coming with you.”
Brigs and I head out into the streets, the sun behind the houses, setting the sky a hazy, golden color. People are out walking their dogs, laughing, and it’s hard to believe that we’re out looking for Lachlan, a man enraptured with darkness, who can’t see the sun at all. My heart feels sick, beating erratically while I keep imagining all the worst case scenarios. I know it hasn’t been long at all though since he left and maybe, just maybe he’s in the frame of mind to listen.
If we can even find him.
Because the first pub Brigs brings me into, he’s not there.
Nor is he at the second, or third.
He’s not answering any of our texts or phone calls.
And now I can see that Brigs is really getting worried, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening. Edinburgh is a big city, full of many pubs and people looking for trouble. Even so, we search through various neighborhoods for hours before we decide to turn around, heading back from the Old Town, up Dundas Street. The sun is long gone and the darkness is everywhere.
The whole time I can barely feel anything except a sinking feeling in my chest, my lips dry and chewed up from biting them so anxiously. I keep telling myself that Lachlan is his own man, he knows what he’s doing, he’s probably fine and I keep repeating it to myself over and over. Finally I’m just devoid of thought, I’m just coasting along on my panic.