We did have a plan, Patsy and I. And I didn’t lie to her. Not outright. I just let her think that we were on the same page. Although she knows my brother all too well, she doesn’t understand him like I do. She never can. See, her idea might have worked with someone else. But if we gave Drew even an inch, he would have wiggled free. Somehow. And in doing so, he would have destroyed us all. This time, I wouldn’t let that happen.
“Why didn’t you follow the plan?” Patsy asks softly. “You were supposed to go to the trailer. Get him to admit what he was going to do with her on camera. It would have worked, Liam.”
“You know him,” I say softly.
That’s all I have. I feel Patsy searching my thoughts. I blink but meet her gaze this time.
“I thought I did, once. And I thought I knew you, too.” She shakes her head. “It’s crazy. All my life, people have told me how smart I am. How strong. That I had everything going for me. Great education. Great job. Great family. But I let this happen. And I did nothing to stop it.”
My heart breaks for her, but I also know that’s not what she wants. Not right now. And not ever.
“My mom said something to me once. She said that love makes us weak. Because we stop caring about ourselves.”
Patsy nods. “She’s right. I knew. Not right away, but I had a feeling. It would come and go. And I would convince myself I was wrong. That I could change him. It would get worse, but I would tell myself that it wasn’t so bad. That I was exaggerating. I would try harder. And he would change. He’d be different. Perfect. For a time . . . he’d be the Drew I fell in love with again.”
Her head shakes and her eyes grow distant. It is as if I know what she will say next. Because, in a way, we are two sides of the same story.
“I feel so stupid,” she says. “When we were dating, up until we got married, he was so different then.”
“Like that lacrosse party,” I say without thinking.
She looks at me like I am crazy for a second. Then Patsy nods.
“I remember that day. When we got there, I walked away from him . . . and he let me. He trusted me. He let me be myself, not just his girlfriend. So few men can do that, Liam. They want to control everything. Who we talk to. Where we go. He wasn’t like that. He was so confident. So . . . different.”
“When did it change?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t really know. It happened so slowly. Even that night, when we got home, he started in on me. Started to pick me apart, little by little. One day, I just found myself wondering how I let it happen. I knew I should get out. But . . . I guess . . . I was so embarrassed. So ashamed that I’d gotten myself in so deep. With someone like . . . I thought I was so strong. So independent. So smart.”
“That’s what he does,” I say. “He takes you apart, piece by piece. Just like our father.”
“But why?” she asks, her voice breaking.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think that he’s just like our dad. Sometimes I think he’s a victim, just like me. But something inside him is wrong. It’s empty. I think my father saw that. He used it. He used Drew against me. And against my mother, I think. And Drew let him.”
“But you were kids,” she says with earnestness. “You . . .” She stops herself, but then the words come, slowly. “You’re right. That’s almost the worst part. I was just so wrong.”
“That’s because you’re human,” I say. “You’re real. You have real feelings. Real thoughts. Drew isn’t like that. He has things that he wants. And things that are in his way.”
“He talked about your dad sometimes. He said that he was tough. And mean. He even told me that he was way harder on you.”
I feel a moment of surprise at this, but then it clicks. “He was telling you just enough of the truth to get a specific reaction. He knew you’d feel sad for us. That it would tie you to us.”
“Us?” she asks softly.
I nod. “It’s always been us. No matter how hard that is to understand. Without me, there would be no Drew. And without Drew . . .”
“What now?” she asks after a long pause.
“You know,” I say.
“No, I don’t,” she says.
“I can still fix it.”
“We can. But we need a little time to—”
“No. We can’t let him have time. We need to move fast.”
“Liam, I . . .”
“Just trust me, Patsy. Okay?”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then she looks over my shoulder, up to where Lauren stands alone, looking like a lost child.
“What about her?” Patsy asks.
“She doesn’t know the truth. Not all of it. Not what Drew had planned for her.”
“You’re sending her back to him, aren’t you?”
I nod. Patsy watches her for another minute. I notice her hand gently cupping her stomach. I feel dizzy, but my jaw clenches and I swallow the nausea down, pile it atop the rest.
“I need to talk to her,” she says.
“Patsy, you can’t—”
“Liam,” she interrupts me. “You can’t use her like this.”
I look down at her hand. Her long, perfect fingers. The nails are painted red. Not fiery, like my mother’s. More subtle. For some reason they make me think of something solid, something real, more like bricks than flames. And as I watch her, and as her words slip into my mind, they cut through the obsession. The frantic plans. I hear her. And I hear my mother’s words once again as well. Love makes us weak.
I’ve used Lauren. I made her something less than human in my eyes. She became a tool. A weapon. Something I could fire at my brother. Wound him with. And discard without any more concern than I would a spent casing. Just like Drew would do.
Yet my brother’s wife, the woman she openly betrayed, can find the compassion to consider Lauren’s feelings. Maybe I am not so different from him. Maybe I never will be. I feel sick again, but this time it’s not going anywhere. All I can do is scratch at the tattoo on my arm.
“I understand, Liam. I do. You’re doing what you think you have to do. But you can’t be him. You can pretend. You can act hard and cold. But that’s not you. Don’t let him make you into that.” Patsy pauses. “She’s a bitch. There’s no doubt about that. But you can’t send her back to him without her at least having some understanding.”
“I know,” I say softly. “But I need her to go to him. I need her to tell him what I’ve done.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I need Drew to be angry. I need to get to him. Push him so off-balance that he makes a mistake. Just one. And maybe this can end the right way.”
Patsy rubs her eyes. “We can just go to the police. Tell them . . .”
I shake my head. “His lackeys, you mean. You think they’ll listen to us? Over him?”
“I know,” Patsy says. I see the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. I realize they are not for her, though. That they are for all of us. “I know . . . Just let me talk to her. I won’t tell her everything. I’ll give you that. But at least let me tell her that I understand.”