Garrett

Things were surprisingly good between my brothers and me right now.

We had cleaned up Liam’s blood from the floor, a job that took all three of us scrubbing at the wooden panels. It had been surreal and kind of f*cked up, but we had laughed as we did it. We joked easily, and the conversation felt natural.

Afterward, we sat in the kitchen drinking enough coffee to kill a man and tearing into a box of raspberry Pop-Tarts, because ...