Brandon's POV
I held onto the fuel pump so hard my knuckles turned white, my eyes glued to the wide evening sky as though the universe itself was mocking me. Clouds hung lazily, their shapes shifting carelessly. I squeezed the trigger tighter, the fuel rushing into the tank, my foot tapping a restless beat against the concrete—like if I kept time, maybe, just maybe, the gas would run faster.
Of all the times for Seth's car to run empty, it had to be now.
Now, when every minute counted.
My chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths. I wanted this time to be different. I wanted to be the kind of brother who showed up—not late, not halfway, but fully. For once, I wanted to do the right thing and stick with it. I had promised Seth. I had promised Mr. Pat. And deep down, I had promised myself.
But it seemed like the whole damn universe was against me whenever I tried to do good.
