starter delivery for big bro bro @weslacroix
Bella was nervous to say the least. She had been confiding in her family for so long and she was lucky for that, she knew it. She had Maddox, Gemma, Juliet, Finn, Eli all by her side and it felt amazing to finally have some control over herself. She had been sober for about a week and a half, going to meetings and while it was hard, she knew it was good for her. She hadnât shared yet in any of the meetings, just sat and listened and what she heard was what made her feel so connected to these people. They all had tragic lives, ruined by their addictions and Bella could relate to all of that. She could sit and listen to them for hours â she just was afraid to share and open up about herself. These people came from the depths of hell and Bella? Bella came from a wealthy, perfect family and she didnât want to be known as poor little rich girl, because that was the furthest from who she was. She lived in squallers, rat infested apartments since then, never had an expensive taste, but people could judge.Â
All of that didnât matter though â they were strangers. Wes was family.Â
She knew she should have told him, and everyone had told her she should, but she couldnât bring herself to. Wes was so important to her, her hero in so many ways. He was a badass, kickass detective and since the Micah thing, the attack, Wes had been rightfully busy and she never wanted him to worry about her. There was so much that needed to be said.Â
When she heard the doorbell to her new apartment ring, she gathered herself, actually looking nice for once, instead of her haggard, messy appearance of red eyes, Â and opened the door.Â
âYou asshole! How dare you knock! You should come right the fuck in!â The little brunette exclaimed, jumping into his arms and hugging him. It had been a while since they had met up, just the two of them. Bella was happy for that, to see him. âCome in, bro. This place doesnât actually have rats or anything, so you donât have to get a fucking tetanus shot after this.âÂ
He hadnât been at his best as of late. He could admit to that. He hadnât been the best version of himself. He hadnât been the best cousin. He hadnât been the best brother. Leaving like he had, ditching them all when they needed him the most was wrong. He knew that. He understood that. What he needed them to understand though was that he didnât take tragedy well. He didnât take loss easily. While many could argue that his cousin Scarlett had been forced to endure the most when it came to the attack and while Wes wouldnât necessarily argue with them, Scarlett had also not been forced to endure loss before. She hadnât been forced to watch as someone she gave a damn about went down right in front of them again and again and again while being absolutely powerless to do anything about it. Whereas she hadnât been forced to deal with such a thing before the attack, Wes had.
Unlike her, he had experienced loss before. He had experienced how powerless, how insignificant, and how crushing a loss could be to ones mental state. He had been forced to watch as the people he called friends, the very people he considered family fell right in front of him. He in no means wanted to make her tragedy about himself but he had been forced to attend funerals of those he cared dearly for before, been forced to look their family in the eye as he expressed his condolences all the while knowing that in some way, or some form he should have been able to save them. He should have been able to help them. He knew how fucked it was to have to do it and despite it being his own aunts funeral heâd be forced to attend this time, he couldnât stand to do it again. Just thinking about it alone manged to bring him to knees, scrambling over himself for the nearest bottle in an attempt to drown out the memories it brought back. He didnât take loss well and so he had left. He couldnât do it again. Couldnât bare to be forced to deal again.
So yeah, when they needed him the most, he hadnât been able to stay. He hadnât been able to suck it up and be the man they needed him to be but he was here now. He was trying to right that wrong heâd committed. Heâd started with Scarlett and now, with the opportunity having presented itself, he was going to do the same with the young woman who considered him her hero. Bouncing from foot to foot as he waited for his sister to open the door, nerves showing in his restlessness and inability to stay still though he knew his sister probably believed heâd been simply too busy to bother with her the past month and change and despite knowing letting her continue to believe that would be the easier option, he planned to tell her truth. She deserved to know the truth. He had run. He had fucked up. The fact that he wasnât as perfect as he would lead her to believe wasnât something he wanted to hide.
Waiting for the young woman to open the door only for him to pull her into his arms the moment she did so, smile practically bursting on his face as he held her just as tightly as she held him, believing it to be minute when it was a mere beat later he pulled back enough to regard her. She looked better. Healthier. Obviously the change in environment was doing her good. âThank god for that. Howâd you afford this place? You finally working? Or did you ask Scar for help like Iâve been telling you to do?â
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