Beach Side Beds and Sandy Paths

by Becca Ann

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. I guess there’s nothing there for me to see.”

  He brings his phone down and pushes the end button. A loud curse flies from his mouth as he chucks it on the couch. There’s this part of me who knows to leave stuff alone, to walk away, and let him deal. And it’s about to win out when he catches my eye, and I’m going damn it. Guess I have to stay.

  “Uh…” I mutter, because I’m brilliant like that. “You all right, man?”

  His brows crunch together in the center of his forehead, and he lets out a huff. “Like you give a shit.”

  He’s right. I don’t think I do… but I’m watching him turn red, and for some odd reason, I’m getting that feeling like he’s a real person. He’s a kid who got thrown a pretty shitty hand in life, and the way he’s pacing, the way his jaw is flexed, even the way he’s rubbing the back of his neck raw… I see my brother. Not just my brother, but myself.

  “Hey, I was gonna ask you…” I start, the blood pounding through my ears as I take a step forward. “There’s a 1980 Chevy transmission I gotta work on when we get back. I could use the help.”

  His eyes flash to mine, and a bunch of shit goes on behind them. They look confused, then optimistic, then… pissed as hell.

  “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

  “Do what?” I ask, even though I know exactly what he’s talking to.

  “Be all brotherly and shit. I know you don’t want to, and I’m tired of people sticking around because they pity me. So save your breath.”

  “I’m not trying to pity you. Just seems like you’re dealing with something, and cars take my mind off stuff I gotta deal with.”

  “You don’t deal with shit!” he yells, taking a step toward me. My back automatically straightens in defense. “You’ve got a family and friends. Hell, you’ve got that kickass girl upstairs who worships you and you have no idea. No clue what it’s like to have real world problems that screw your brain up.”

  “Are you forgetting that we have the same Mom?” I say, trying to keep my voice level, but it’s not working. “Did you forget that my dad died? How in the hell does that not classify?”

  “Your dad’s been dead for what? Ten years? Get the hell over it,” he spits, and heat blasts up my neck, and I cross my arms, clenching my T-shirt with my fists so I don’t end up putting them through his face. “I deal with losing my dad every damn day. I don’t know where the hell he is, or if he’s okay. So having him dead might be easier instead of wondering all the time.”

  I blink back the burning moisture prickling behind my eyes. He doesn’t get that I’d give anything to have my dad back. He could be in the military even, and yeah, it’d be scary as hell, but he’d be alive. I can’t believe he’s even comparing the two, and before I know it, my mouth shoots off before I can stop it.

  “Yeah, maybe it would be.”

  “What?” he says, his face getting closer to mine.

  “It’d be easier on you if he was dead.” I clench my jaw, grit my teeth, and keep my hands fisted in my shirt. “Then in ten years I can tell you to get the hell over it.”

  The words taste like acid on my tongue, and Brett’s glassy eyes blaze red right before he pulls his arm back and clocks me across the jaw.

  Blood instantly pools in my mouth, and there’s about five seconds when everything is absolutely numb, then the pain hits. I unlock my hold from my shirt and get ready to uppercut him in the gut, but Lex’s voice from the stairs stops me mid-punch.

  “What the hell? Stop!”

  My vision is blurry as I blink up to Lex. She runs between me and my brother, facing me and putting a hand on my chest. Heat smacks into my gut as I rotate my jaw. She’s protecting him from me?

  Brett’s eyes are big when I look at him, and I throw my hands up in surrender.

  I tried. I tried to be the good brother and I tried to understand. I tried to get past all the shit he said, and I tried to be the bigger person. And you know what? Brett’s right. I don’t give a freaking shit anymore.

  “I’m done,” I say to both of them. Lex’s eyebrows pull in, and she opens her mouth, but I march straight out the door before she gets a word out. I spit the blood out in the sand and slam my ass in the Lincoln.

  I had to test her out anyway.

  Chapter 24

  Lexie

  What the hell just happened? I stare at the door, thinking maybe Ryan will come back in. Hoping. We finally consummated our relationship and we have one day left at the place where it happened and now…now he’s gone. The door goes unmoved and my heart sinks to the wood floors.

  Last night I didn’t have a single nightmare. Instead, I dreamt about our last day here and when I woke up I had so many plans. I should know better than to plan anything. It always goes to shit.

  Sadness washes over me, but when I turn away from the door, and see Brett holding his hand and rubbing at his knuckles, that sadness is replaced with anger. If I was a teapot, this is the moment steam would shoot out of me.

  “You!” I say to Brett, pointing my finger and walking towards him.

  “Me?” he exclaims, taking a step back, eyes wide, lip curled, looking at me like I’ve completely lost my mind. Maybe I have. But this has gone on long enough and I’m done.

  “You,” I repeat. “You did this. You need to fix this.”

  “I didn’t do shit.” His eyes narrow into dark slits, and he goes to walk away, but I grab his arm and whip him back to me. Those slits turn into wide circles.

  I poke my finger into his chest. “Really? Because what I just saw says the total opposite of that.”

  “You’re just defending him.” Brett’s voice elevates and I can’t help but smirk at the likeness to his brother.

  “I know you haven’t been around that long, but you’ve been around long enough to know that I always side with the right side whoever it may be. Right now you’re not that side. For the first time since you got here, Ryan actually took an interest in you. He was being nice. He was being an older brother. And you basically spit in his face.”

  Brett’s lips move, but no words come out. He takes a deep breath and steps back. “I called Kara.” There’s a long pause before he looks up and meets my gaze. “It didn’t go well.” The tension in his face eases into a sadness that can only be described as someone’s who heart has just been broken.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble because I am. I may not know his whole story, but there’s enough in the look on his face to tell me there are many layers. Most of which are probably full of heartache, struggle and betrayal.

  “Me too.” His fingers reach for the back of his neck, and he rubs. “I never should’ve called her. Last time we spoke, she said she never wanted to see me again. Not that I blame her, really. But I’m also sorry about Ryan. I should never have hit him. Said what I did. He just picked a really shitty time to finally care.”

  I rest a hand on his shoulder and give him a smile. “He’s never been good with timing.” I walk to the freezer and grab the ice tray. I crack a few into a wash cloth and hand it over to Brett. “For your hand.”

  He takes the ice and pushes it into his knuckles. “Thanks. He has a hard face.”

  We both laugh, and I welcome the change in atmosphere. “Now do me a favor,” I say.

  “What’s that?”

  “Fix this. I don’t know where Ryan went, but I don’t like the fact that he’s out there driving, pissed off, when he has no clue where the hell he is.”

  “What do you want me to do? Go walk the streets until I find him?”

  “No. That’s stupid. Take Nate’s car.” I take the keys off the hook and toss them at Brett.

  He catches them with one hand. “You sure Nate will be okay with this?”

  “As long as you don’t wreck it, he’ll be fine. Now go! And don’t come back until you find him,” I say but give him a wink so he knows I’m not entirely serious.

  Brett walks to the door and when his hand reaches for the door
knob, he stops. “Lexie,” he says, his lip quirking up at the corner, “I really am sorry.”

  “I know. Just make it right.”

  He nods and then takes off. I look out the window and watch as he pulls out of the driveway and heads down the road. I watch until I no longer see the car. God please let him find Ryan. Please let them work this out.

  I turn back to the cabinet and take out a box of Apple Jacks.

  “Where is everyone?” Kaylee bounces into the kitchen in her pink string bikini. Her hair damp, parted off centered into two braids.

  “Ryan and Brett got in a fight. Brett punched Ryan. Ryan took off. Brett just went after him.” I wave to the door and rest my hands on the counter, closing my eyes for a single moment before gaining the energy to reopen them..

  Kaylee’s mouth practically hits the counter. She hitches a finger over her shoulder. “How long was I at the beach?”

  I look at the clock on the stove. “Fifteen minutes.”

  “Wow. Those two waste no time now, do they?”

  “Nope. None at all.” I hand her the box of cereal and a bowl.

  “Do you think it’s wise for Brett to go after Ryan? I mean. I know how worked up Ryan can get. Brett hit him once, and I have a feeling if any more fists are thrown Brett’s going to be the punching bag this time.”

  I drop my spoon into my bowl with a loud clank. I didn’t really think about that when I sent Brett after him. As long as Ryan doesn’t kill him, what’s a few punches? Maybe that’s all they need to get this out of their systems. Men. “I thought sex was supposed to decrease stress. Relax you. This is so not relaxing!”

  “Aww, bestie.” Kaylee reaches out and rests her hand on mine. “Once Ryan works this thing out with his brother, I’m sure we’ll all be a lot more relaxed. It’s just been this dark cloud over their heads. All of our heads.”

  “Do you think they’ll actually work it out?” I ask.

  “I do,” she says, and usually I take comfort in her words. So why is it that my stomach is twisting in knots?

  Chapter 25

  Ryan

  Lex: I love you. Hope you’re okay.

  Me: I’m just testing out the Lincoln and getting some air.

  Lex: Okay. Where at?

  Me: Nearest mountain. Test the incline.

  Lex: Well, hurry back.

  Me: I will. Try not to worry.

  Lex: Hard not to.

  Me: Just try. I’m gonna pay attention to the road now.

  Lex: Okay.

  Me: I love you too by the way.

  I set the phone down on the passenger seat and ignore the buzz that comes after Lex texts me back. It’s not enough that I’m blowing smoke out my ass with those texts, but the Lincoln isn’t faring too well on the uphill. I knew I shouldn’t have let it sit all week. But at least spending all day under the hood will keep my head occupied and my hands from strangling my brother.

  The GPS tells me to take a left to the nearest Auto Zone. A quart of oil and a giant Powerade later, I reprogram the thing to take me up a mountain somewhere. It’s about a half hour drive to the base, and the Lincoln seems fine even though it’s pulling a little to the right.

  I roll down the window and stick my arm out, letting the California mountain air waft over my skin and cool the fire blowing on my neck. Every time my jaw pulses another pang of anger flits through my brain. Part of me wishes I would’ve just hit him back—that punching this out might be the only solution.

  The engine’s RPMs rise as I take an uphill bend, and I wait for them to drop when the car shifts gears, but they don’t. Pulling my arm in and settling it on the wheel, my brow furrows as I watch them steadily climb over 5000 RPMs.

  “Shift, damn it,” I say to the dash, but the engine groans, and as I reach a steeper incline, the RPMs shoot up again.

  Shit. I feel it ten seconds before it actually happens. The Lincoln slows, then the RPMs finally drop… to zero. The car sputters, and I force it to the side, dangerously close to the ledge, but it’s the only flat spot I can see, and I don’t want to roll back. I shove in the emergency brake, blow out a breath, and get out. The hood is boiling hot when I place a hand on it.

  There’s no hope for this thing. I killed it. If I had a hat, I’d place it over my heart.

  “Sorry, girl.” I walk to the side near the edge of the mountain, grateful I’m not scared of heights as I look down. She made it pretty far up before dying. Maybe if I hadn’t been punching it through the city she’d be fine, but then again, I’d always known she’d die one day. And soon. Why not when I’m a thousand miles from home with a swollen jaw?

  “Shit,” I say out loud as the whole crappiness of the situation catches up with me. A few other choice words fly from my mouth, and I turn around and kick the damn tire. “Shiiiit!” I growl so loud it echoes around me. I forgot about the bruise on my foot, and it feels like I just slammed an anvil on it.

  Heat shoots from my foot all the way up through my chest and neck, and I curl my fingers into fists and start beating the metal. I know it’s pointless. I know I’m making things worse. But as my hands leave marks along the hood, I get a tiny bit of satisfaction that I’m at least putting a dent in something.

  The satisfaction leaves when I pull my shaking hands back and examine my swollen knuckles. Yeah, I’m a damn genius.

  Leaning my head against the top of the car, I take some calming breaths, feeling the pulse in my neck slowly go back to its normal pace. Now that I’ve let it all out, I feel better. Less angry at least. I feel a little stupid too, to be honest, but I’ll just head back and spend my last night with my kickass girlfriend and avoid Brett.

  The Lincoln dying could be a good thing too, since we’ll probably have to squish in Nate’s car on the way back home and there will be more people to use as buffer. And I doubt Lex will force me to work anything out with Brett now that he socked me. A tiny grin hits my lips at that thought because I love that she’s protective of me. When I froze my balls off on the ski trip she forced me into a piping hot shower so I didn’t die of hypothermia.

  I clear my throat and reach through the car window for my cell. My finger swipes the call button for Pop-pop, and as it rings I take a step back.

  A giant jolt tosses through my stomach. My foot tries to go down on ground but catches nothing but air. The phone leaps from my hand and lands twenty feet away from me. My feet slip off the edge of the mountain, and I grapple for anything to hold onto. Something jerks in my stomach, and my heart slams in my ears as I slide and bump down the side, swollen knuckles stinging as dust flies through my vision. I yell at the mountain, and I don’t even know what I’m saying. It feels like I’m forever falling, and there’s a split second when the panic gets so damn deep that I know I’m going to die. Shit, I’m going to die!

  My fingers scrape against the rocks, my cheek pressed firm against them as I try to get a hold of something, but my feet hit solid ground first.

  There’s no way in hell I’m going to move. My heart’s still slamming through my brain, and I chance a peek under my arm.

  I landed on a tiny ledge, enough to hold me as long as I’m hugging the mountain. Beyond that… it’s nothing but dirt, trees, and rocks. I thought I wasn’t afraid of heights, but I think I’m going to piss myself.

  “Oh hell. Damn it, damn it, oh shit, Ryan…” I’m sputtering as I try to maneuver on the sliver of space I have. I manage to turn enough to look up toward the Lincoln. Maybe I can climb back up. What felt like an eighty mile fall was really only ten or twenty feet. But I can’t reach the edge.

  Taking a deep breath so I don’t freak myself out more than I already am, I look over my shoulder at the narrow and secluded place I’m at. And high. Very, very high.

  “Well,” I say to no one. “Shit.”

  Chapter 26

  Lexie

  After Ryan’s text, the tension in my muscles lax and the random breaths I keep holding release, allowing oxygen to flow freely through my lungs again. My arms
fall to my sides and I let my phone fall to the cushion as I rest my head back against the wall.

  I close my eyes and listen to the waves crashing on the shore and recall every detail from the night before. I smile, thinking of how Ryan rolled me on my back and hovered over me, keeping his weight from pushing down on me. Pure happiness.

  My eyes snap open that damn nagging feeling back in my gut. What is that about? Maybe it’s just gas. Banana or not I did help myself to an extra serving of pancakes.

  I look down at my Can’t Let Go nail polish and the stupid nagging feeling dissipates. I’m so stupid sometimes. Even after all this time, after all the things Ryan and I have been through and all the things he has promised me, I still randomly fear that one day he’ll leave me.

  But last night. The way he looked into my eyes, brushed my hair out of my face and stared deep into my soul, I know without a doubt, he isn’t going anywhere. He won’t let go of me. There’s no chance in hell.

  He will hold on until the very end, and I will do the same because there’s no hand I’d rather have. For so long, I thought I was unlucky. That I was dealt the shittiest cards, and I really must have pissed God off in a previous lifetime. Despite being abandoned by my father, my mother being the town drunk (now reformed, thank the heavens) and barely having enough money to pay our bills, it turns out, I’m pretty damn lucky.

  I met my soul mate when I was seven. My belief has always been that things like that only happen in the movies, but I’m proof it can happen in real life. I would take that shitty hand again in a heartbeat because in the end I know I will find my happy ending.

  Ryan is and always will be my happy ending. The North Star in a sky full of uncertainty, the light at the end of a dark shitty life and even though I’m not a magician like Nate, Ryan is the rabbit to my hat.

  It’s time to let my fears go. Most of all. It’s time to let the past go. There is nothing I can do to change that time in my life. My dad left me, yes, but Ryan is the only man I need in my life.