Specter: Circuit Series Book One

by Dailey, Lacey

  “You want me to be honest?” He whispered.

  “Yes.” I pleaded. It was what I was longing for. A conversation with my brother that didn’t tread lightly. A moment with him that didn’t involve calculated responses, fake smiles, or nervous laughs.

  “I was honestly pissed off and terrified when I found a doll in your bed!” He said, voice cracking. “I was honestly losing my mind when dad tracked your cell phone and found you halfway across the God damn town in an apartment building! I was honestly livid when I saw that guy on top of you, and I was honestly gutted when I saw that a fucking stranger could touch you and I couldn’t!!”

  A sound I’ll never forget ripped from somewhere inside him. He clutched his chest and bent at the waist, sobbing roughly. My own tears filled my pillow as I laid there and watched my brother come unglued.

  My body trembled with the need to comfort him and the fear of actually doing it. “Brett.” I choked his name and yanked back my comforter. “Brett, come on.”

  He wiped his face and let out a gasp. His whole body rocked before he dove into my bed. Even a mess, he was conscious not to touch me.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to stop more tears, yet they found their way out anyway. I cracked into a million pieces watching him. I was a porcelain doll someone took a hammer to and watched as the cracks spider-webbed until there was nothing left but dust.

  I didn’t want either of us to become dust, so I inhaled deeply and held the air in my body as my hand slid across the sheet and fell over the top of his.

  All my breath rushed out of me when the pain hit. A whimper escaped my lips. I didn’t move my hand. I shook as I laid there, hoping my pain would erase some of what my brother held.

  His eyes flew open, shock filling them. They focused on where we were linked. “Does that... does that hurt you? Physically?”

  “Yes.” I whispered. “I don’t know why.”

  He slid his hand away from mine. I blew out a shallow breath of relief, counting in my head as I kept breathing. I pulled my hands into my chest, rubbing them together to rid the ache he probably thought was pretend.

  “It doesn’t... it doesn’t hurt to touch him? That guy from the other night?”

  “No.” I met his eyes. “And I don’t know why that is either.”

  “Who is he, Sage?”

  “Wren Wilder.” I answered, wiping at the snot and tears coating my face. “He’s my very best friend.”

  He looked away. “Since when?” He asked the wall.

  “I met him a couple months ago on accident. I basically had a panic attack in his apartment building and he... made it suck less.” It was the best way I could explain it without giving up Wren’s secret. I wanted nothing more than to tell my brother all about how wonderful Wren really is, but that wasn’t my secret to tell. And I would never break Wren’s trust.

  “On accident? You were accidentally in his apartment building?”

  “I’m not telling you the whole truth as to how we met.” I confessed. “But I can’t because that is his story not mine. What I’ll promise you is that Wren is a really good person.”

  “Then why did you hide him?”

  “I don’t know that either, Brett!” I sighed. “I just didn’t want to answer all these questions I’m getting now! I don’t know why I’m not scared around him. I don’t know why it doesn’t hurt to touch him. I don’t know why I’m comforted by his presence! Okay? He just makes things brighter! Less scary!”

  “Sage, don’t cry.” He looked horrified at my tears. “Please, sis. It’s okay.”

  I sobbed, aggressively swiping at my face. “They keep coming and coming! The worst part is, what the hell am I even crying for? I don’t know! I’ve been laying here, trying to figure out all my thoughts. It’s so hard sometimes, Brett! I just cry, not knowing if it’s because I can’t open up to my parents, I’m scared I’ll be stagnant forever, my brother lost his life because of me, and that my best friend hates me now because I got his home destroyed.”

  “Sage, breathe.” He commanded. “Come on, breathe. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay!” I shouted at the ceiling, fisting my sheets in rage. “None of this is okay! It’s not okay Trish was killed! It’s not okay I was taken! It’s not okay you quit college to mourn me. It’s not okay I’m scared of public food and slight touches. It’s not okay dad is so heartbroken he can’t express anything! It’s not okay mom is in denial. It’s not okay I was the catalyst to Wren getting a gun pointed at him! None of it is okay, but ya know what? He is! Wren is okay, Brett! Out of all the things that aren’t okay, Wren is not one of them.” I slapped my hands over my face, muffling my cries. “Wren is okay.”

  “Honest big brother truth?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I want to kick Wren is okay’s ass.”

  “What?” I gasped, meeting his gaze. “No! Why?”

  “I don’t know.” He mused. “You seem real sweet on him. You’ve never been sweet on anyone before. Aren’t I supposed to kick his ass?”

  “Absolutely not!” I gaped. “And I’m not sweet on him! I just like to be around him! And anyhow, he’ll probably never talk to me again. So, there’s that.”

  “Sage, he jumped on top of you when he saw a gun.” Brett drawled. “He ain’t just forgetting you.”

  I peered at him with remorse and hope all wrapped in one look.

  “I’m so sorry for letting him in and shutting you out.” I held his gaze and talked for what felt like hours, telling him all about the times I'd hung out with Wren. I told him about Ace and Lilah. I talked to him about SevTeck and Wren’s Diet Coke addiction. I even told him, while tears ran down a face that looked similar to mine, why I felt like it was easier to open up to someone who didn’t know me before my life flipped.

  “He knows the questions to ask and when not to ask anything.” I explained quietly. “And also, I don’t want to hurt you with the details. I hurt you enough.”

  He reared back. “You did not! What are you talking about?”

  “I didn’t fight him, Brett.” I finally broke our gaze, unable to face him while guilt lit me on fire. “I didn’t fight or attempt a plan. I could’ve been stronger! Tried harder! Instead, you quit college and moved back home when you were supposed to be curing people!”

  “Sage, look at me!” He pleaded. “Look at me!”

  I couldn’t look at him.

  “God damn it, Sage! Listen, okay? You are the strongest person I have ever known! Do you understand me?”

  “Do not say that to me!” I shouted. “That’s so wrong!”

  “It’s right!” He growled. “You survived, Sage!”

  I rolled my head, feeling dejected and miserable and so damn tired while I looked at him. “People survive every day.”

  “They do not survive what you did.” He said, holding my gaze so intensely I was afraid to break it. “You survived hell and are clawing your way to a life that screams heaven. I’m proud of you. And I do not blame you for the reason I stopped going to school. I was broken, okay? I’ll be honest. It destroyed me and I would’ve flunked out if I continued going. But I do not blame you.”

  “Do you want to go back? Move out again?”

  “Maybe one day.” He shrugged. “I care more about spending time with you than studying twelve hours a day.”

  I went still. “Spending time with me?”

  He looked confused. “Of course. It was almost two years. I missed you.”

  “I thought...” More tears. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Christ, you’d think I would’ve run dry. “I thought you didn’t go because you thought you had to watch my every move.”

  “I think you have enough people watching your every move, though they seem to be doing a shit job at it.” I let out a watery laugh. “I wanna watch your back, Sage. Be your brother.”

  “I want that too.”

  “I can’t do that if you don’t give me a little bit of how you’re doing. Open up when you can an
d tell me the lines you don’t want me to cross. I’ll respect them, and try to stop acting like a freak if you try to do something for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Try to stop blaming yourself for my dropping out. It was not you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay? You’ll try?”

  “Yes.” An effort was all I could promise. Because sometimes, even that was difficult for me.

  “Thank you.”

  I nodded, wiping my face for the millionth time. “Hey, Brett?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I missed you too.”

  He smiled and the cracks inside me that were all for him started to fill.

  “Do you wanna play-"

  THUD

  I flew upward at the sound of our front door slamming and my dad’s hoarse shout. Brett was already off my bed and flying down the stairs. I sucked in long, even breaths, my legs shaking as I placed them on the floor and rose from my bed. I shuffled to the doorway and craned my neck, peering into the hall.

  I saw nothing and heard nothing but loud whispers and the shuffle of shoes on hardwood flooring.

  My bare-feet flopped against the ground as I carefully made my way to the staircase, gripping the railing so hard, I thought my knuckles might burst from the skin. I peered over the railing and down into the living room, my knee caps bobbing and my mind racing with the possibilities of what I might find.

  I found no broken doors.

  Or guns.

  Or people screaming.

  I found sun.

  I blinked a few times, resisting the urge to pinch myself. My brain liked to malfunction, and I wanted to be sure that wasn’t what was happening.

  I gazed at him, watching as he had some sort of showdown with my father while wearing that ridiculous yellow polo and a pair of jeans. Even with a red face, his freckles stood out. His eyes were on fire behind his glasses, his lips moving at a rapid pace. I couldn’t be sure what he said to my father, but I thought it may have had something to do with the stuffed sunflower in his hand. It had a long stem that spanned the length of his arm and large petals I wanted to rub my face on.

  Brett was standing between them, his arms crossed over his chest as his head whipped back and forth, taking in their expressions.

  I must’ve made a noise because all three of them stopped and turned to look at me.

  I looked only at Wren.

  The minute his eyes met mine, they softened and he smiled wide.

  “Hi, Sunshine.” He called. His voice was light. Casual. Like he wasn’t just having a staring contest with my father while holding a plushy flower.

  I lifted my hand and gave him a small wave. A smile curled up my lips just seeing him. After I basically ran full speed out of his home and neglected to return his phone calls over the last four days, I had no idea why he still wanted to be my friend. But I was sick of trying to answer questions. So I just thanked the universe and started down the staircase. “I see you wore your best shirt to come visit me.”

  “What? This old thing?” He chuckled, stepping around my father.

  When he was close enough, I held his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “Getting your house destroyed, a gun in your face, and ghosting you.”

  “Well.” He smirked. “We call you phantom girl for a reason. And I forgive you.”

  I jolted. “Why?”

  He cocked his head. “Why do I forgive you?”

  “That, and why do you still want to be my friend? I have so much baggage. I’m like the heaviest suitcase ever. You can’t zip me up, Wren. You think you can and all the shit will come pouring out through a tear in the fabric or at the seam.”

  “Sunshine.” He moved so we were toe to toe. I didn’t flinch when he pressed his palm to my cheek. I nuzzled into the touch. “You are not what happened to you, Sage. That’s part of you, yes. But it’s not all of you.”

  “Sometimes it feels like it is, Wren. Sometimes it just consumes me.”

  “I know.” He whispered. “I know that’s why you didn’t call back.”

  Of course he knew.

  “And if you need more time to breathe, Sage, take it. I just came here to bring you a present.” He lifted the flower between us. “I wanted you to have a little sun.”

  I threw myself at him. He stumbled awkwardly before righting himself and squeezing me. The flower was wedged between us while we held each other. I pushed my face in his neck, reveling in his comfort. I even leaned into his touch when his lips hit the top of my head.

  “Thank you.” I whispered. “Thank you for bringing me sun.”

  20

  Sage

  Holding someone else’s hand was a normal gesture for most people. To them, it was relaxed and comfortable and comforting. To me, it was an absolute victory. I felt like I’d won a medal when I slid my hand in his and linked our fingers together without an ounce of hesitation. When he lifted our linked hands upward and his lips brushed the back of my hand repeatedly, I thought, screw the medal. Where is my trophy?

  “You sure about this, Sunshine?”

  I nodded, my knee caps bobbing as we moved up in line. “I’m sure.”

  He looked very skeptical but said nothing. I knew he could feel me shaking and my palm sweating. I had to force my brain to think about other things so I wouldn’t back out of what I was about to do. The line moved upward. I glanced nervously at the large man in a white apron, making sandwiches quickly as people stood behind a plastic case and pointed at what they wanted.

  I cleared my throat, doing weird things with my tongue to bring the moisture back into my mouth. I’d lost my appetite the moment I stepped foot inside Gervasio Bros. I knew that even if I was able to take a bite of the sandwich I’d had yet to order, there was a chance I’d barf it up.

  But that wasn’t the point.

  The point was that I was making an effort. Crossing a bridge I’d thought was broken.

  “Sage, are you sure?” He didn't ask to be condescending or because he thought I couldn’t do it. He asked to give me an out. Normally, I’d appreciate that, but I didn’t want an out.

  Not this time.

  “Stop asking me if I’m sure, Wren.” I clipped. “It’s making me cranky.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled, kissing the back of my hand again.

  An elderly woman in front of us peered over her shoulder. She smiled politely at our clasped hands and the way I was leaned into Wren so nobody else would touch me.

  She speared me with a look that said she wanted to pinch my cheeks and give me a good shake. “You two make such a lovely couple.”

  Couple.

  That word surrounded Wren and I since the moment he brought me that sunflower two weeks ago. My dad wasn’t even going to let him inside the house that day until Wren passed a background check, a lie detector test, and a tough round of twenty questions. He’d managed to get himself through the door long enough to have a showdown with my dad, arguing about why he should be allowed to see me. My dad’s refusal came to a halt when I spent a good five minutes relaxed against Wren while he hugged me.

  That started the slew of questions.

  Are you together?

  Is this your boyfriend?

  How did you meet?

  Why didn’t you say anything?

  Are you sure you’re ready for this?

  What are your intentions with my daughter?

  That last one made me giggle. Mostly because Wren didn’t have any intentions when it came to me. He took whatever I gave him and was genuinely happy. He was patient and kind. Respectful and knew when to back off. Being around him was easier than breathing sometimes. I didn’t have to count or force my chest to move. I just had to exist and things clicked into place.

  Did that make him my boyfriend?

  Hell if I knew. I wasn’t rushing to answer that question. When my parents demanded an answer, I told them Wren was my sun.

  Wren seemed perfectly sa
tisfied with that.

  The line kept inching forward. My saving grace was the lunch rush. The horrendously long line was practically out the door when we got here. It gave me loads and loads of time to back out and take off running. I didn’t back out but I started to think I should. When it was almost our turn, I went a little dizzy. My legs became comparable to a jar of jelly. I clutched Wren’s hip with my free hand and tried not to pass out. I looked around the small restaurant, watching as people ate and kept their gazes on their cell phones or the person across from them. Not one person was passed out or stumbling around unaware. I mumbled to myself repeatedly that there weren’t drugs hidden in the salami. I wasn’t gonna go weak the second I took a bite and wake up handcuffed to a pipe in an unfamiliar bathroom.

  But my positive sentences weren’t convincing enough. There was still a piece of my brain asking me what the fuck I was doing here allowing myself to be vulnerable. When it was the little old lady’s turn, I shuffled forward and repressed the urge to vomit in her oversized handbag.

  Wren shifted so he was standing behind me and wrapped an arm around my middle, molding his front to my back. I shook as he pressed his nose to my cheek. “Let’s just order, yeah?” He suggested. “We don’t have to eat it. Just order. One step at a time.”

  I nodded. I could do that. Order something and pay for it like everybody else did. Just ordering it didn’t sound so bad.

  When I’d decided in Julie’s office this morning I was gonna do this, I called Wren and asked him to come. He met me outside the sandwich shop on his lunch hour, smiling at me and telling me how much he loves this place. I’d never been here. I chose it because it was close to his work.

  “So, you eat here a lot?” I mumbled, trying to keep a conversation going. Being alone with my thoughts for too long was never a good thing.