But it wasn’t all bad. We had Grandpa. And if the mood struck her right, my sister Payton would do more than cook a meal. She’d sing to us. Read us a book. Tuck us in at night.
And then there was her. The girl next door. Literally. I spent half my life in her house pretending I was part of her family. Wishing I could stay there forever.
My hands begin to shake and I sigh. I’m weak. So Goddamn weak. I don’t have the strength right now to deny the monster. The hunger. And that’s exactly what it is. It’s a never-ending appetite. And when you’re hungry, you eat, right?
I’m fucking starving.
I lean back against the wall and wiggle my hand into my pocket, tugging the baggie free. Jaxon hears the all too familiar noise and glances back at me with a blank expression. I don’t have a clue what he’s thinking. What he’s feeling. It just makes the need that much stronger and I pop two pills into my mouth, swallowing dry.
He looks away from me. I want to stand up and get in his face. I want to yell at him. Make him understand. I just took half the amount I usually indulge in. I’m fucking trying.
The sad part is I’m not doing it for him. I should have. A long time ago. But I didn’t do it for him back then. And I’m not doing it for him now. I’m not doing it for me, either. And that’s probably even sadder.
It’s her. That’s why I’ve decided to put myself through this hell. Ironically, she’s also the reason I started in the first place. I couldn’t stand the way I felt. I just wanted to turn it off. The day I left, I sprayed one of her favorite stuffed animals—a little purple pig I won her at the fair—with her perfume, and then I took it with me. Every night, I would curl into that little pig like it was a direct connection to her. All I could see was her. All I could smell was her. And then one day, that little pig lost its scent.
It felt like losing her all over again.
I couldn’t stand it. On top of the life Mom had built—or destroyed—for us, I just couldn’t take one more second of the agony I felt. Mom had always made it look so easy. So I tried it. I liked it. And it became a part of me. I started using on the regular.
I know I’m an addict.
I know why I’m an addict.
I know I hate it.
But I also know it owns me.
“What do you think it’ll be like?” Jaxon asks. I’m not even sure he’s talking to me. All I see is his back. He doesn’t bother to look in my direction.
“Think what will be like?” I rasp.
“Home.” That one word causes my stomach to flip. Jax glances sideways at me and he looks scared shitless. And I get it. I am too. I don’t want to go back like this. A fucking failure just like my mom. I don’t want her to see me like this. And Grandpa, he’s going to take one look at me and know. He isn’t going to want this shit at his door again. But we have no other choice. Mom was mixed up with some bad shit. We have to get the hell out of here, tails tucked and heads down. If I had the funds to take us somewhere—anywhere—else, I would. I’m giving myself a couple of weeks to wean myself off the pills and clean up before we move on, setting the rest of my plan in motion.
“I imagine it’ll be the same,” I lie. “It’s only been three years.”
He nods tightly. “Only three years.” His lips draw up like a snarl. “A lot can change in three years.” He looks at me pointedly, holding my gaze until I roll my eyes and let my head fall back against the brick.
I know.
Goddamn. Where the hell is Payton? She said two. It’s nearly three. We shouldn’t be out here, exposed like this. Delphi’s guys could be on the prowl.
“I can’t wait to see Kam and Briar.”
The air in my lungs expels in a hiss. He said her name. He fucking said her name and I want to beat the shit out of him for it. By his smirk, he knows it, too. But I don’t do a damn thing. He’s my brother. I’d never touch him no matter how much he might be asking for it.
Instead, I close my eyes and pretend he’s not there. But I can’t pretend I don’t see her behind my eyelids. I can’t wait to see her, either. I’ve purposely stayed away from all social media outlets over the years just so I wouldn’t be tortured by constant photos and status updates proving how happy she is without me. But I wonder every day if she looks the same.
Most people can’t remember their infancy or early toddler years. I’m not one of those people. I don’t remember much, but I clearly recall the day the Gallos brought their little girl home. I can see her hair in my mind’s eye as if it were yesterday. So red it turned to fire in the sunlight. The way her tiny lips pursed and sucked on an invisible pacifier. And her eyes. The way they opened and locked on mine, bright and curious. Even then she captivated me. I knew at that moment—at two years old—I would do anything for her. And I would protect her at all costs because she was the most precious thing I had ever seen. I may not have known the right words back then, but I remember the feelings. And those feelings have never changed. Not really. They’ve grown stronger, deeper. But always there no matter how much I’ve wished they weren’t.
So yes, I’m scared. I’m scared of who she’ll be when I get back because three years can change a person completely. I’m scared of what she’ll think of me. I’m scared that she won’t remember me. Or worse, she’ll hate who I’ve become. Or even worse yet, she’ll be indifferent.
A car rolls to a stop a few feet up the road and it takes me several seconds before the face I’m seeing matches my memory. Payton’s main identifiers are the same—same blonde hair, same blue eyes. But she’s older. Thinner. Her features are sharper. Wiser. All traces of baby fat and young girl naivety are gone. My sister is all grown up.
Jaxon swings the door open and pulls her in for a bear hug. His giant frame dwarfs her almost comically. I shove myself up using the wall to brace against the spell of dizziness that hits. I don’t bother with a hello. I toss my pack in the back, following it inside. I lay my head against it like a pillow and close my eyes.
I hear Payton scoff and feel the heavy weight of her gaze. “I missed you too, Benji,” she states, heavy on the sarcasm.
“Of course you did,” I retort. “That’s why I heard from you so often while I was gone.”
She doesn’t reply to that and I smirk, though it’s the last thing I feel like doing. It isn’t fucking funny that she cut off contact. I was the one who went with Mom to make sure she and Jax would be okay. Payton dropped off the face of the planet while I gave up everything to look out for them.
The smirk slides from my face. I did a standup job, didn’t I? Mom’s dead. Jax hates me. And I’m a fucking loser addicted to pain pills.
“Ignore him,” Jaxon mumbles. “He’s flying high.”
Payton clicks her tongue and that one little sound screams disapproval. “Like mother like son,” she murmurs.
Even though it’s absolutely true, it pisses me off. I sit up, resting both hands on the seat. “Take a left up ahead, Princess. We need to pick somebody up.”
“Who?” she hisses, her eyes squinted with anger.
“This chick, Megan.” I smile widely and add, “I met her at a strip club.” This is true, though I don’t bother to give her all the details. I don’t explain that I took Megan from Delphi just to piss him off, causing her to unwillingly become a part of the reason Mom is dead. And I don’t tell her that I’m bringing Megan with me now because she knows shit—enough to bury Delphi for good. Shit Delphi would kill to keep hidden. I close my mouth and let Payton think what she wants.
She cringes in disgust. “Must have been love at first lap dance.”
Now I cringe. Love? No. Lust, maybe. For her. For the drugs. But not love.
“Something like that.” I settle back into the seat, averting my eyes from her judgmental gaze.
“Same shit, just different person,” she states icily as she shifts into drive.
I have no smartass retort. It’s absolutely true.
5
Briar
The evening passes
in a blur. I go through the motions—eating dinner and helping Mom clean up. But as I lay in bed, I can’t really recall a single word uttered or a solitary thought reflected.
I miss Flynn already. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known Benji if you subtract the years that Benji has been away. Flynn is a good guy. He was such a good friend to me when my heart was breaking over Benji. And he’s been a great boyfriend, even with all my mess. But I just can’t do what he’s asking. Even if Benji comes back and thinks I’m a loser he wants no part of, I still couldn’t do it. Because the truth is, though I do love Flynn, it’s not in the same way I love Benji. Maybe it’s that whole first love thing, but I can’t imagine myself loving anyone else like that. Ever. And I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard with Flynn. I just couldn’t make myself fall in love with him.
It’s just Benji.
I glance at the yellow sundress Flynn gave me for my birthday. It’s hanging from the closet door, taunting me. I should give it back to him so he can return it and get his money back. I’ll do it first thing tomorrow morning before I help Dad in the field. I can at least give him that.
With that decided I turn over and close my eyes, determined to sleep. But once again, my brain is not on the same page. Instead, it wants to focus on the impending return of a beautiful boy with gorgeous golden-brown eyes. I see his infectious smile behind my closed eyelids and I can’t help myself. I smile back. That’s how it works with Benji. His earth-shattering grin comes so easily you have no choice but to return it until you’re grinning ear to ear like a moron. And the dimples… I shiver. He has the most adorable dimples that indent his cheeks. I can’t wait to see them again. I can’t wait to hear his voice. To smell his scent that is unique to Benji alone. My hands ache to touch him again. I ball them into fists and flip onto my back, glaring at the ceiling.
What if what Flynn said comes true? What if Benji doesn’t remember me? What if he does, but doesn’t feel for me like I feel about him? What if he hurts me the way I hurt Flynn?
I sigh, resigned. Benji has already hurt me. Nothing can ever damage me more than the day he left or the years of silence that followed. And I’ve survived that, right? It’s not important, I determine. Just to see him again, and know he’s safe, it makes it all worth it. No matter what happens.
~*~
Something startles me awake and my eyes pop open with panic. Light shines into my room through the window and I jump up. Moving slowly, I tiptoe toward the window, careful to stay back out of the stream of light. It’s coming from Benji’s old room. A shadow moves across the wall and now I’m holding my breath, afraid to move—afraid everything will vanish if I allow myself to exhale.
And then he’s there—home—standing directly across from me, blocking out the light. One nicely shaped arm rests on the window as he peers through the glass. He is so much more than what I had been imagining. Even if I tried to breathe, I don’t think I could. Benji’s body is lean, thicker than I remember. His white t-shirt hugs his now broad shoulders and defined chest. He is definitely all grown up, but still noticeably…Benji. His hair is nearly the same, maybe a little longer. And his eyes, holy shit, his eyes, they look the same—the long dark lashes framing golden-brown irises. They move over the old pulley system he hooked up years ago. Then his body goes visibly rigid, and I swear he’s looking right at me. Staring at me.
I can’t move, rooted in place by his raw gaze. Before I have a chance to react in any way, Benji steps back, reaches up, and pulls the cord on the blinds, closing them and releasing me.
I sink down onto my bed and inhale a shaky breath. I’m too shocked to stand. I’ve spent the last three years thinking about him, missing him, wishing for him to come back. Now he is. He’s really home.
I lie back, my hands shaking as I pull the covers up to my chin. I close my eyes and fight the urge to run next door.
~*~
I roll over and look at the clock. It’s finally a reasonable time to rise. I’ve barely slept. My eyes burn and my head feels heavy. I sit up and my gaze instantly flicks to the window. Benji’s blinds are still drawn. With a sigh, I decide to take a shower in hopes of forcing some energy into my body. At least enough to return the dress to Flynn.
When I come out of the bathroom, I find Mom in the kitchen making pancakes. She’s standing in front of the stove and singing along with the music streaming from the old disc player. Mom will never willingly get with the times. She refuses to get rid of her old mixed CD’s and switch over to an iPod. I smile and grab a pancake, which I eat plain.
“Hey, grab a plate and sit down.”
I shake my head. “Can’t. I need to take my dress back to Flynn.”
She studies me for a moment, spatula half raised in the air between her and the pan. “Did it not fit?”
“It fits fine,” I say, avoiding her gaze. I take another bite of pancake.
“Then…why?” Her eyebrows scrunch for a moment and then her eyes shoot to mine knowingly.
“It’s not fair to him, Mom.”
She turns the burner off, sets her spatula down, and turns so she’s facing me full on. “Not fair to which one?”
My mom is one of the smartest people I know. In fact, she’s brilliant. Plus she has those special mom senses, so it doesn’t surprise me she knows exactly what I’m talking about from the few exchanged words.
I sigh. “It isn’t fair to any of us. Is it?”
She stares at me, absolutely no judgment in her voice when she says, “Not much in life is fair, Briar. It just is.”
I nod. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to be happy, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. But are you sure you know what will make you happy? I mean, he isn’t even back yet. You don’t know what he’s like now. How things will be between the two of you.”
I swallow the last bite of pancake and shake my head. “He’s back. I saw him last night.”
Mom’s eyebrows shoot up. “You talked to him? How is he?”
“No, we didn’t talk. I just saw him through his window for a second.” I shiver with the memory. “And it doesn’t matter if Benji’s changed. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t like me. What matters is that I realized I just don’t feel how I should about Flynn. I don’t think it’s right to be with him knowing that.”
Mom studies my face again. I wonder what she sees when she looks at me. Am I what she hoped I’d be when she dreamed of having children? Did I turn out the way she envisioned? I hope I don’t disappoint her.
“Well,” she says quietly, “it’s your decision to make. I agree you shouldn’t lead Flynn on. Just remember, once you make the choice, you can’t go back. Or, if you can, it won’t be easy.”
I shrug, defeated. “I feel like any choice I make, someone will be hurt. This way at least I’m being honest.” I turn to leave, but stop, looking at Mom over my shoulder. “Do you think he’ll still be my friend?”
“Flynn?” She touches my chin, smiling sadly. “Probably not, Bri. At least not for a long time.”
~*~
Flynn looks up from the piece of wood he’s sanding. It looks like it’ll be the top to a table. A quick glance around confirms it. I see the legs sitting on a workbench awaiting their turn. Flynn’s hands pause as he catches sight of what’s in my arms.
He goes back to work, not looking at me. “What are you doing Briar?”
I take a few steps closer and clear my throat. “I wanted to bring this back to you. So you can get your money back.”
Flynn doesn’t stop, his hands move quickly, precisely, smoothing the wood. He’s a little sweaty, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. He looks so handsome it hurts. It makes my stomach clench and fills me with panic as I second-guess my decision.
“I don’t fucking want it back. I bought it for you. It’s your gift. You keep it.”
I look down at the dress. I know how expensive it was. I know he doesn’t have a lot of money. None of us do. “I wouldn’t feel right,” I say.
<
br /> Now Flynn stops. He drops the large piece of sand paper on the table top and smirks at me. “Since when do you worry about feelin’ right?”
“What? I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”
He huffs out a dry laugh. “It means don’t worry your precious little heart, Briar. You keep the damn dress. It’s yours.”
“I don’t want you to hate me,” I say softly.
Flynn’s jaw clenches. I can see the muscle there throb, pulsing quickly. “You don’t get a say now.”
I close my eyes. “Please.”
“Please?” My eyes pop open, shocked by the harshness in his tone. “Shit, Briar. You dug out my heart with a rusty spoon, threw it on the ground, and kicked dirt all over it. I have done everything you wanted. When Benji was here, I was your friend. When he left, I filled the void. When you decided you were ready, I became your boyfriend just to have you hold me at arm’s length.” He squeezes his hands into fists. “I knew you didn’t love me, but I thought if I stuck it out, if I hung in there long enough, you would eventually want more from me than sex. I thought you would eventually find a way to love me back. But I never had a chance. I was just something to pass the time while you waited for him to come back.
“I never meant a damn thing to you, but you were everything to me. And now you stand here, trying to give me back your gift… So what? I can have this reminder of how you tossed me away at the first mention of Borelli? And you want me to be all right with it all? No hard feelings? What the fuck is wrong with you? I have nothing but hard feelings, Briar.”
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