by K. L. Jessop
All of that is quickly wiped from my thoughts when he grabs the scruff of my shirt and growls. "You promised to look out for her."
"And I have.”
"That didn't mean sleep with her, you fucking prick!"
“Both of you stop!” Nora yells. “Just stop.”
Asher releases his hold on me and steps away.
Needing my own space to try and get to grips with the rollercoaster of the morning, I go over to the window to try and focus on something outside of this room and calm myself. I’ll happily roar out my disapproval and disgust with him. I’ll happily throw a few more punches if that’s what he’s wanting—even if I’m not, but the fact of the matter is, I have Nora to think about. I don’t want to scare her. I don’t want to damage her heart any more than it has already been damaged.
Her response to what is unfolding between the three of us—or lack of it—is what has me looking back at her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in the bedsheet, she focuses on the floor. Her fist is curled on her lap and her chest is rising and falling with her deep breaths. She is silent, and she is angry. I fear that when she releases her fury and anguish toward him, it will break her completely, and I don’t want that.
As Asher rests against my bedroom wall, I watch him watching Nora. Permanently unsteady yet somehow controlled, his body slightly sways. His fingers fidget as if he’s unsure what to do with them. I wonder when he last had a drink as he’s showing signs of withdrawal.
Wanting to keep his head in the game and to get out of him his reasons for being so cut off from everyone, I’m in two minds whether or not to get him a drink—I know I could certainly do with one—but that friend in me chooses not to. Or maybe I’m just being downright cruel.
“Nora,” he says quietly. “You’ve barely even looked at me since I’ve got back.”
Unbelievable.
“How is my kid sis doing?"
Am I fucking hearing this right?
"How do you think she's doing?" I mutter, wishing I could keep my fucking mouth shut as it’s not helping.
"I'm talking to my sister." He cuts me a look before he turns back to her. “Nora, please. I want to know how you are. How you’re doing.”
She doesn’t answer. Standing slowly, she steps toward him. He opens his arms out to welcome her into his embrace as a glimmer of hope casts his features. The silence that comes from Nora is deathly, and I can see the ferocity in her eyes as her knuckles turn white. Standing in front of Asher, she analyses him for a moment right before her hand rises and she slaps him hard across the face.
"That is how I'm doing. Now get the fuck out, you selfish fucking asshole."
I’m at her side in seconds, and she falls into me as a deep cry rips from her chest. I hold her tight as her torment once again leaves her, all the while watching Asher as he looks at his sister completely stunned.
I can’t wrap my head around the fact he can’t see the bigger picture here. I guess that’s what alcohol does to you. It masks your pain as well as the ability to witness the heartache of others. To Asher, he’s just been absent for a few weeks as he comes to terms with the fact his dad has passed while his best friend has gone behind his back. He can’t see the brutal distress it has caused his family.
“Nora. Please. Don’t be like this.”
"What did you expect, Asher? You left us. You left me!" she cries, turning in my hold to face him. "He was our dad. I needed you... and you left me on my own."
“Nora…”
“Just leave us!”
Her tiny frame is trembling, and tears stream down her face. Meanwhile, my heart is suddenly torn because I want to protect her, yet I can see in my friend's eyes the torment he's under as tears now glass his eyes and sorrow covers his features.
He may be drunk. He may have been absent at a time when everyone needed him, but looking at Asher now, I can see how much turmoil his mind is in, and how much grief, guilt and god knows what else he’s suffering with. That's the compassionate side of me, and although that is strong, the resentment that is burning through me again right now takes over as Nora falls apart. She is my priority.
“Just go, Asher.”
The second he leaves, I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, all the while my eyes are on the door to my bedroom as I watch him head down the stairs, wondering what he’s going to do next— wondering if he’ll stick around, and questioning if I should have been a better friend and made him stay.
Chapter Thirty-One
Nora
As my body begins to calm from the stress my brother has just inflicted from his unannounced visit, my heart remains a bundle of tatters. Twenty-four hours ago, everything was perfect: my days had seemed brighter, the loss of Dad wasn't so crushing on my chest, and I’d noticed that I had been smiling more. Now, everything feels like its crumbling again, and I don't know if I'm strong enough for the fight I've been waiting to have.
Waking to the sound of a disturbance, the last thing I’d expect to see was Asher laying into Grayson. My heart had stopped, and my body froze as I’d watch the fight unfold, all the while my voice vanished from my throat when all I’d wanted to do was yell at them to stop. Not only did I despise the fact that the two men had been fighting, but I’d also been struck with the shock of seeing my brother for the first time in months.
At that moment, my battered emotions had been torn. My heart had ached for him. I’d wanted to throw my arms around him because he was finally home. But then as I watched him and my mind registered the fact he was standing in front of me and it wasn’t some kind of twisted dream, the rage that had laid dormant, deep in the depths of my heart and soul, awoke, and the longer I stood listening to him, watching him, the higher that fury inside me rose.
The back and forth words of spite that he was throwing toward Grayson about his betrayal and our relationship never mattered to me. The panic of him finding out that I’d once felt never even washed over me, the dread I’d had about him tearing Grayson and me apart never came either because as I’d looked at my poor excuse of a big brother, all I’d seen was the face of my father. I heard the cries of my mother, and I felt the ache in my heart so powerfully that none of my fears over my relationship came.
I don’t care what his feelings are about us now. None of that matters anymore. That was wholeheartedly proven when Grayson took me in his arms and told my brother—his best friend—to leave.
I close my eyes and listen to the rapid beat of Grayson’s heart as he strokes my hair. A flash of earlier cuts into my thoughts, and I remember the way Grayson had held himself after the fight. Lifting my head, I look up at him. His lip is busted, a shadow of a bruise decorating his jaw. Gently placing my hand on his torso, I whisper, “He hurt you.”
“It’s nothing I didn’t deserve.”
“But he still did. I don’t like the look I see in your eyes.”
“And what look is that?”
“Sad.”
“It’s just been a bit of a whirlwind morning. I’ll be fine. I promise.” His smile doesn’t meet his eyes and his response doesn’t convince me.
“Remember Mom’s famous words when someone is sad.”
“All they need is a cuddle.”
“Exactly. Do you need a cuddle?” I whisper, saying the words I’ve said many times whenever I’ve found him battered and bruised.
This time he does smile. “I’d love a cuddle, Shortcake.”
Wrapping my arms around him once more, he holds me tight, and I fall into his embrace. I try to work out in my head what to do next. I hadn’t known what to expect when Asher returned, and even though it hasn’t come as a shock, I’m still at a loss of what to do because it’s like Dad never mattered to him while he stood before us. He never asked how Mom is. He never apologized. He never explained his reasons for leaving us at a time when everyone was so broken.
What was clear from his return was that he has become dependent on alcohol and that Lacy is an even bigger bitch than I th
ought. She’s played both Grayson and me, and what upsets me more than ever is that she’s the only one who’s had contact with Asher all this time.
“What will you do about Lacy?”
I feel Grayson’s body tense under my hold. “Leave her to me. You don’t need to worry about her.”
“I can’t believe she’d go behind our backs like that, especially yours.”
“I can. But let's not talk about her. We have other things closer to home that need sorting. Like talking to your brother.”
“I don’t want to talk to him. I just want to be here with you.”
“Nora,” he warns.
“I don’t want to see him, Grayson,” I say a little firmer, lifting myself to look at him.
“I know, but right now, you don’t have much choice in the matter.” Moving me off him, he stands from the bed and heads over to the window. The coldness I suddenly feel has me cradling the bedsheets closer to my chest. I’m confused by his abrupt shift in mood.
“I don’t understand.”
"Maybe you should go. Being here with me isn’t going to help anyone."
His words are a blow to the stomach.
What the hell has changed.
"I'm sorry what?"
“Go talk to him.”
“I don’t want to. And don’t tell me what to do.” The fire that had almost burnt out inside me now has sparks flying from it again. Knowing he has said the wrong thing, he rubs his hand down his face.
"Nora, he needs to get his head around the fact we are together, and you need to get yours around the fact he's home. You both need to talk this through."
"So, because of that, I should run to him?”
Is he for real?
“That's exactly what he wants, Grayson. Meanwhile, you're throwing me closer to him by kicking me out!" I know I’m overreacting here, but can you blame me? One minute he’s telling me he’s with me every step of the way, and the next he’s throwing me to the wolves like I’m bait. I can’t do this on my own. I thought we were a team.
"I'm not…” He sighs heavily. “I’m not kicking you out. I just think you two should talk that’s all."
"I'll talk to him when I’m ready, and right now I don't think I'll ever be, but do you know what? I'll go. I'll leave you to work through whatever shit is going through your head on your own. My mistake for thinking we were in this together." Leaving the bed, I search for my clothes, still holding the bedsheet against me as it feels like the only form of comfort right now.
"We are in this together."
"It doesn't feel like it!" I yell, only for his tone to match mine as we fight over the one person I never wanted to come between us.
"Jesus Christ, Nora. He’s your brother and my best friend!"
"And what am I to you?" I swipe at the tear that escapes. "Because you're either in this with me or without me, Grayson. We knew this wasn’t going to be easy, and right now all those promises you made about being by my side and telling me you love me seem like complete bullshit because the second shit gets tough you push me off on my own! Please don’t tell me I'm on my own here because not only will you break my heart, but Asher will have won."
He holds my gaze for a few calculated seconds. My heart is racing, my body weak with exhaustion, and I’ve not even battled it out truly with Asher yet. I can’t do this on my own. I need Grayson to be united with me if we are going to make Asher aware that he can’t break us.
Walking over to me, he cups my jaw, tilting my head back to look at him. Sorrow and confusion cloud his eyes, and I loathe myself for ranting at him when I know this isn’t easy for him either. Wiping my stray tears away with his thumbs, his voice is low, a soothing tone compared to the level it was just moments ago. “You were in my heart long before I knew what my feelings meant. I can't imagine life without you. And I’m sorry for making you doubt me or what we are.”
“I can’t do this alone, Grayson. I can’t fight him and protect what we are if I don’t have you.”
“It’s not going to be easy, Nora.”
“I know.”
“I hate what he’s done to your heart, but the friend in me fears for the addiction he can’t see he has. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong in this situation. Everything is a mess.”
“I know.” I close my eyes knowing that he is right. “But please tell me that we are not broken in all this mess. I can’t lose you too. It will kill me,” I whisper.
He places a soft kiss on my forehead, brushes my tears away once more. “I’m with you and I love you."
Two hours later, Grayson and I walk through the door of my house and the atmosphere turns ice cold within seconds.
I can hear Asher ranting to mom, but her voice cannot be heard. Panic races through me at the thought of her being here alone with him when his mood is so unpredictable. She should have called, or maybe she didn’t want to.
As I stride down the hall, I prepare for the second fight of the day when I latch eyes on my brother. The bottle of vodka that’s in his hand is almost empty, and the look of disdain in his eyes when he looks over my shoulders is unmissable.
“You’re fucking kidding me.” He stands from his seat, but Mom is quick to give him his orders.
“Sit down, Asher.”
“Mom, are you seeing this right now?” He stretches out his arm in Grayson’s direction, but the force of his movement makes him stumble forward, having to grip the table for support.
“I said. Sit. Down.”
Doing as he’s told, Asher sits, and I head on over to Mom and pull her in for a hug. “You okay?”
“Fine. He’s not been here long, but I can’t look at him, Nora. I can’t look at my own son.” Her words come out in an unsteady breath as she tries to control her emotions. I’m about to respond when Asher’s disapproving tone filters around us, sounding drunker than he was this morning.
"Mom, are you really going to let him in our house knowing how he's betrayed us? Knowing that he's fucking your daughter?" He laughs, yet everyone around him just watches as he gets off on his amusement.
Looking at him now, it becomes clear that I no longer recognize the brother I once knew. Everything about him seems broken. He’s a mess, and my heart aches for him because all he has to do is say the words, and we’ll get him the help he needs.
But the part of me that is still mourning my father, the part that is broken beyond repair due to the way Asher has behaved, is the one that is stronger than anything right now. And as much as I want to try and control that for Asher because I know he needs the support, I can’t help the way I feel.
Call me selfish.
Call me a stupid girl.
I don’t care.
My heart is fractured too, and right now, I don’t think I will ever be able to move past the damage he has caused without expressing to him just how much he has shattered me with his behavior.
Before I have a chance to say anything in response to his remark, Mom moves past me and replies.
"First of all, this is my house. I choose who is allowed to step foot through the door. Second, that man there”—she points to Grayson— “loves your sister like she is pure gold, and his love for her shows more and more each passing day. But most importantly, Asher, how dare you have the audacity to say he's betrayed us when you're the one that has been elsewhere when we needed you. Your father would not be proud. And right now, neither am I."
He studies her for a moment, and there’s a slight shift in his eyes. She’s hit a nerve and he doesn’t like that. Maybe that’s the way we need to proceed—hitting him where we know it will hurt—but what good will that do other than drive him to drink more?
I’m so confused. My head is pounding.
“So, you’re telling me that you’re happy about this, Mom? He’s older than me. Why can’t you see how fucking wrong this is?”
“When two people care and love each other as these two do, then nothing else matters. Age means nothing. I see no wrong in Grayson a
nd Nora’s love, and neither should you.”
Taking another swig of his vodka, he shoots Grayson a glare. “You promised me once you’d always be there for her.”
“I have been.”
“By getting your dick wet?” He sits forward. “Why her? Why, out of all the women who are out there, did you have to bed the one closest to home?”
“Because I love her.”
“Because you love her?” He mocks, finding that more hilarious than anyone else. It’s like he’s oblivious to the reality—the fact we are all mad with him—and is trying to get us to crack a joke with him. Suddenly, he regains his composure, taking a long pull of his vodka and almost finishing the bottle.
His bloodshot eyes fix on mine, and a cold, hard look of disapproval stares back at me. “I don’t know who I feel more betrayed by. Him or you.”
His comment surprises me, not because of the words he has spoken, but because of the one person he’s still not acknowledged. It’s like Dad never existed to him, or he’s trying to avoid the questions and the answers we are all waiting for because it will open up wounds he’s trying to seal closed with a poison that will only kill him should he continue. From the corner of my eye, I can see Grayson is growing more and more uncomfortable with watching Asher pour the neat alcohol down his throat. I can see he is itching to reach out and help him—to voice his concerns to his friend once more, yet knowing it will be a waste of time.
Something needs to change, and it is down to Asher to make it.
But as my brother stares at me, trying to point the blame in anyone’s direction but his own, I can’t hold back over this any longer.
I step closer to the table, my heart racing because he’s unpredictable. "What did you expect, Asher? For years, you've wrapped me up in a band-aid I never needed, dragged me away from situations I needed to experience, and let every man in Chesapeake know who I belong to. Grayson is the only man you've ever allowed me to be around, and because of that, I fell in love with him."
