by Tess Oliver
I could no longer support his weight. I held him tightly as we fell. He shuddered uncontrollably in my arms, and I tightened my hold on him, foolishly thinking that somehow I could stop the trembling and the pain. “Goddammit, Rett, what the hell have you done?” I muttered quietly. “What the fucking hell have you done?”
Chapter 2
Clutch
I poured myself a third cup of coffee and replaced the pot on the coffee maker with care. It seemed even the slightest disturbance of air could wake Barrett. It had been a three day long journey into hell, and my kid brother had spent half of it draped over the toilet and the other half like a human burrito, rolled up tightly in two thick blankets. He had dozed off occasionally but would wake with a start, groaning with every movement.
When he was little, I’d taken care of him whenever he’d gotten hurt, and wild kid that he was, it had happened a lot. We’d once taken a steep road on our skateboards and Barrett had hit a rock and lost control . . . along with a good amount of skin. I’d carried him, miserable and bloodied, all the way home on my back. But this time there was nothing I could do for him. For three nights in a row, I’d stretched out in the bed next to Rett, jolting with my own mental pain every time he writhed and twisted in physical pain. It was like watching someone being tortured slowly and with increasing intensity until death was not just welcome but prayed for.
I’d never stayed away from the shop for more than half a day, but Scotlyn had assured me she had everything under control. I’d told Jason that I had to drive out of the state to pick up some parts. I hadn’t been ready to tell him anything about Barrett yet. Jason was a close friend and business partner but he tended to be far more judgmental than Nix and Dray. Although, if they hadn’t seen it first hand, I might not have told them either. It was one of those family problems better left under wraps.
After three long days and nights, fatigue and lack of sleep had taken a toll on both of us. Things had gotten rough the night before. Barrett had hurled the bottle of Ibuprofen at the wall and begged me to hold a pillow over his face and I’d almost been tempted to take him up on it. By midnight we’d finally been pushed to our physical and mental limits. I’d poured two shots of whiskey down his throat. He’d gagged on the bitterness of it but it seemed to have taken the edge off . . . at least for a few hours.
I needed to take some parts into the shop and check on a few orders and then I would head back home. Barrett would be on his own for a few hours, and with any luck, he’d sleep through my absence.
I downed the last cup of strong coffee, but it did nothing to clear the grogginess from my head. I would have to blast my stereo just to stay awake during the commute to the shop. In my state of exhaustion, I’d forgotten that I’d tiptoed around all morning to not wake my brother. I scooted back and the chair scraped the tile floor. The grating sound echoed through the house. I froze and listened to see if my carelessness had woken Barrett. The house remained still. I stood and walked silently, a nearly impossible task with size fourteen boots and wood floors, to the living room for my keys.
A small moan rolled up from the hallway, and Barrett stepped into the living room, looking less like the guy that all the girls in high school had drooled over and more like one of the zombies from Day of the Dead. The two blankets seemed to be weighing down his shoulders and standing took all his strength. His arm lifted and he held up a crumpled piece of paper.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Please, Jimmy, you’ve got to help me. I’m not going to survive this. I just need something to hold me over for a few more days. This guy lives near—”
I snatched the paper from his hand and tore it up. He stared down at the pieces as if I’d torn up a piece of his soul. Then, moving with speed that I would not have thought him capable of, he lunged at me with his fist. I threw up a hand and his knuckles smacked my palm hard. He grabbed his arm and dropped to his knees. “Just fucking kill me, Jimmy. Break my neck or something. Just put me out of my misery.”
I yanked him to his feet, and for a second, I saw that blue eyed, cocky little fucker who, growing up, had followed me around like an annoying pest, an annoying pest who everyone loved. Barrett could win people over with a gesture as simple as a smile or handshake, and now he stood in front of me looking like the worst the human race had to offer. I felt his despair as if it flowed from him into my hands. I helped him to the couch and tucked the blankets in tightly around him.
“Are you ready for some food?”
With the blanket tucked below his chin, he peered up at me like a scared kid who had just been woken by a horrible nightmare. Unfortunately, this bad dream was all too real. “Not unless it contains poison.”
“Right, you wish I’d let you off that easily.” I straightened and stared down at him. “You’re going to suffer every moment of this, lil’ bro. Maybe it will help remind you to never do it again.”
He moved his head side to side weakly. I hated seeing defeat on Barrett’s face. The only other time I’d seen it was when Dad had told him he was going to Alaska. The look had never suited him, and it was even harder to see now. “Doesn’t work that way, Jimmy. You forget pain after it’s gone. Otherwise there wouldn’t be any second babies born in the world.”
“That’s a stupid fucking analogy. Women are rewarded for the pain of birth with a baby.”
He closed his eyes. “You’re right. This pain has no reward at the end,” his voice trailed off, and it seemed he’d fallen asleep again. His cheeks were pale and sunken as a quiet snore rolled up from his throat.
“Yes there is, Rett. You get your life back.” I walked to the front door and looked back at him. The contortions in his face had disappeared and he was relaxed. For a second, he looked like my popular, charming brother again.
I closed the door behind me. We’d kept the blinds closed for the past days and the bright sun stung my tired eyes. I got in the car and leaned over to the glove box for my sunglasses. Bleary headed and feeling as if I’d just run a fucking marathon, I headed to the shop.
***
Scotlyn looked up from the computer monitor. During her years of silence, she’d perfected the art of speaking with facial expressions and her incredible face was easy to read this morning.
“He’s had a really awful few nights,” I said. “But I think we can get through this.” I could hear Jason moving boxes in the back room. “Did you mention anything to Jason yet?”
“Didn’t think it was my business,” she said softly.
“Thanks. Jason knows my little brother is a handful of trouble.” I smiled and thought instantly about Jason’s little sister, another package of trouble. “I’ll let him know soon. I’m going to head back home this morning. I need to be there. I brought in that intake manifold that the guy with the Nova was looking for. He’ll be in here around ten.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Scotlyn said. “You definitely need to be home. Keep him hydrated. That’s one of the worst parts about it.” She spoke with the confidence of someone who had been through the same nightmare. I hadn’t heard all the details of her past, but Nix had told me that the rich asshole, Hammond, had pulled her from the streets where she’d spent some hellish years as a homeless teen. Looking at the stunning, fresh-faced beauty standing across the counter from me, it was nearly impossible to imagine that she had ever lived a gritty life. But that was all behind her now. Hammond was behind bars and out of her life too.
“I went out last night and bought some of that electrolyte stuff. It seemed to make him feel better.”
Jason walked out from the back with two boxes. “Dude, it’s about time you got here. I heard you won the other night.” He stopped and stared at me. “And from the looks of it, you spent just a little too much time celebrating.”
“Yeah, in fact I’m not feeling that great. I brought in that intake manifold. I’ve got some paperwork and then I’m goin
g back home.”
Jason smiled and shook his head. “Man, I wish I’d made it to your victory party. Sarah wasn’t in the mood to go out the night of your race.”
Sarah was never in the mood to do anything, and ever since Jason had moved in with his longtime girlfriend, he’d been under her house rules. He’d had no reason to jump into a commitment with her. Like Taylor, he’d been blessed with the Flinn good looks. He’d had plenty of girls after him, but for some unexplained reason, he’d settled for a woman who seemed to spend all her waking hours figuring out how to control him. He’d grown up under very controlling parents and it would seem logical that he’d avoid living under someone else’s iron fist. But strangely enough, he’d slipped happily beneath Sarah’s.
“I’ll be in the office if you need me.” My head felt light from the lack of sleep and hunger. The only food in the house had been the four pizzas that’d come for the celebration that never happened. I managed to finish off one by picking at it one slice at a time, but Barrett’s nausea had done a number on my normally ravenous appetite.
I had three orders for rare parts, and I needed to search every corner of the internet for them, but I was sure that staring at a monitor for longer than ten minutes would send me off into a deep sleep. I pulled up my account books, but after five minutes, the numbers were a blur. I rubbed my eyes. My mind kept drifting back to Barrett. I’d thought about calling my parents for all of about two seconds. They were getting on in years, and they would have no comprehension of what Barrett was going through. And, sadly, they would probably just be pissed at him for disgracing the family.
I could only hope that Dad’s friend hadn’t called to let him know that Barrett had been fired. Dad had spent too many hours watching cable television where the deadly job of crab fishing had been romanticized, leading him to his asinine decision for a punishment that was far too severe for the crime. But Barrett had always been a danger junkie, and even though he had protested his sentence, he’d gone without too much of a fight. When I got home, and if he was capable of answering questions, I planned to grill my brother on exactly what had gone down out there on the fishing boat.
Jason popped his head into my office. “Hey, I just shipped off those El Camino back up lights.” He stepped inside. “You look like crap. Get out of here. Scottie and I can handle things today.”
My chair creaked as I slumped back against it. Jason was my partner and good friend. I had no real reason except pride to keep anything from him. “Barrett showed up at my house three nights ago.”
Jason’s eyes rounded. “Thought he was crab fishing.”
“So did I.” I thought about the shivering, underweight guy I’d left back on my couch and my throat tightened. “He’s a mess.” Saying it out loud hurt more than I’d expected.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Clutch. I’m sure you’ll take good care of him. And Barrett has always been tough.” He smiled. “Man, did that guy have the chicks dragging at his heels. Always envied the little twerp for that.” He turned to leave but then stopped. “Go home to him.” His phone buzzed and he plucked it out of his pocket and looked at it. He laughed. “Speaking of pesky younger siblings.” He walked over with his phone. He definitely had my attention.
It was a picture of a Pink’s hot dog. I was amazed at how profoundly disappointed I was that the picture wasn’t of Taylor.
“She knows how much I love those hot dogs.” Jason turned to leave and then he hesitated and his shoulders tensed. He realized his mistake just as it occurred to me that he’d made one. And I’d been worried about keeping secrets from him.
I sat forward. “I didn’t know there was a Pink’s in Florida.”
He hadn’t turned back to look at me yet. Apparently, he was trying to formulate a decent excuse for keeping something pretty fucking major from me. And now I wondered why.
He finally had the guts to face me. “Listen, Bro, I was going to tell you.” He only called me Bro when he knew I was pissed off about something, and it was obvious from his expression that I was about to get really pissed. “She came back three months ago for her eighteenth birthday and begged my parents to let her stay. She’s matured some and my parents agreed, but . . .”
“But what?” This was the last thing I needed after the last few nights I’d had, but now that it was out, I needed to hear the rest of it.
Jason looked down at the ground. “She had to promise to stay away from you.”
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs. I was tired and in a bad mood and his statement felt like a hot poker through my gut. I wasn’t completely sure of his parents reasoning behind it, and I wasn’t completely sure I wanted to know.
“Look, Jimmy, it’s not about you. They like you.”
I snorted a derisive laugh and slouched back against the chair. “Well, that’s fucking obvious. I mean, what better way to prove it than to forbid their daughter from coming near me.”
“It was just that Taylor was so friggin’ nuts about you.”
I flinched at his words and had no idea why hearing them was so painful.
“Don’t you see, Bro? Everything she did, she did to get your attention. She was out of control, and her crush on you only fed her impulsiveness. She’s dating a guy her own age now. It has really helped settle her down. ”
“I assure you the wild Taylor is still alive and kicking deep inside.” After saying it, I realized how much I wanted it to be true. Taylor’s spirit was not the kind that should be extinguished or constrained. “She’s just afraid she’ll be shipped off to another relative.” Jason’s words had hit me like pieces of shrapnel. All I could think was that the whole thing was beyond messed up. I stared at him. “Did you speak up to defend me at all, or were you right on board with this bullshit?”
His silence said it all. The chair scraped the floor as I stood abruptly. “I’m outta here.” I pushed past him. “Thanks a lot, Bro.”
Chapter 3
Taylor
Fortunately, not many people had cravings for a chili dog in the morning, so the lunch crowd hadn’t carpeted the sidewalk in front of Pink’s yet. Adam had insisted that he needed to get back by fourth period. As it was, it had taken some major begging and a quick make-out session behind the gym before he’d agreed to skip second period. The whole thing made me laugh. My parents were pleased that Adam was such a good influence on me, but most of the time, the complete opposite was true. I was a bad influence on Adam. Or at least I tried.
Adam glanced back over his shoulder and flashed his toothpaste commercial smile at me from the order window. I leaned against the parking meter jutting up from the sidewalk and watched him. Great hair, broad shoulders and a tight butt— the boy had no flaws except for the obvious one— he was a boy. Even though we were both eighteen and seniors, the hierarchy of high school crushes was hard to ignore. For freshman girls, the world of high school was an endless stream of hot junior and senior guys who left trails of aftershave in the hallway and talked about cars and getting laid. But as each year of high school passed, the tables were cruelly turned, and by the time a girl reached her senior year, all the guys seemed like fresh out of puberty, awkward boys. But for the guys, each year brought a new crop of innocent and untried freshmen females.
Unlike most of my friends, I hadn’t spent those underclass years pining for the senior class president or football quarterback. For me, there had been only one crush, and it had been a major one, so major that I felt scarred emotionally when I thought about it. By the time I’d turned sixteen, I’d given my heart and soul to my brother’s best friend, Clutch. Unfortunately, to him, I was just an irritating pain in the ass, and he’d made it all too clear that he was happy to see me go. It was the one thing that had made it easier to follow my parent’s command to stay clear of him. I just had to keep reminding myself that Clutch considered me a well rid of nuisance, an opinion that was no doubt set in stone
after I’d totaled his prize Pontiac.
“You don’t want onions, do you?” Adam called back to me.
“You’re kidding, right? Who eats a chili dog without onions? I want that old sourpuss, Mr. Burke, to smell my breath from the front row of his chemistry class.”
“What about taking pity on the guy who plans to kiss you after that chemistry class?”
I held out my arms. “I guess if you want that kiss bad enough, you’ll overlook a little onion breath.”
Adam shook his head as he turned back to the order window.
A loud rattling motor made the sign above the hot dog stand vibrate. The car had pulled up to the meter I was leaning against. I looked back over my shoulder. It was a late sixties Charger with more rust than paint. I recognized the driver as he climbed out of the car. I’d seen him a lot at the classic car events where I used to hang before my parents had added those to the list of things that would get me sent back to my painfully dull aunt with a bingo addiction and a house that smelled like moldy sponges.
His friend climbed out of the passenger side, and my heart sprang to fast forward. I didn’t know his name, but in one of my more ridiculous and completely worthless attempts to make Clutch jealous, I’d stupidly climbed into the guy’s Mustang. The incident had ended with Clutch’s fist in the guy’s hood. I’d always figured the guy had been lucky that it’d been his car instead of his face. The creep had nostrils the size of headlights, and his hair was always slicked back like he’d spent hours greasing it.
I looked away and back toward Adam hoping that they would walk right past. My hopes were dashed when two tall shadows loomed over the sidewalk in front of my feet.
“Well, those are a pair of legs I haven’t seen in a long time,” the Mustang guy said.
The driver circled in front of me. His head was shaved clean and some words that were hard to decipher were scribbled around his neck. Definitely not a Freefall tattoo. “You’re that sexy thing that always used to hang out with Mason.”
