All the Shattered Pieces

by B. Celeste

  I’d like to think we’ve become friends. Why else would I stick my back out for her? Tease her as much as I do? I’ve made sure people at school don’t fuck with her. Do I piss her off? Sure. But it seems mutual. We like each other, there’s no denying that, but we get on each other’s nerves.

  Cam says it’s like we’re siblings.

  The feelings I get when I’m around her, though, is anything but familial.

  I walk out, leaving her dumbfounded behind me. I don’t trust myself not to say something that’ll fuck things up with us. I’m too angry to process things right now.

  Leaving her for a while is the best thing to do, even if the gaze burning into my back doesn’t make it seem that way as I close myself in my bedroom down the hall.

  Hours later when I’ve calmed down, I creep into the bedroom I prefer spending my nights in and watch Emery’s body slowly rise and fall from her even breathing.

  I wait a second or two before climbing in behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her into my front. “Are you feeling any better?” I whisper against the back of her neck.

  She wiggles, making me bite back a groan when her ass brushes against my dick. “A little. I’ve just been getting headaches, that’s all.”

  Something tells me that’s not entirely true, but I don’t have the energy to call her out on it this time.

  I feel her heartbeat against my wrist. “Kaiden?”

  “Hmm?”

  The small breath she releases has me tightening my hold on her. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

  My eye twitches as the lie forms. “You didn’t.”

  “It’s okay to be worried, you know. I won’t tell anyone. It can be our little secret.”

  It can be our little secret.

  I don’t know why those words do something to me, but they do. And they’re dangerous for more than one reason.

  Gently flipping her until she’s on her back, I hover above her with a smirk curving the corners of my lips. “I can think of other secrets to keep between us that are a lot more fun.”

  Emery nibbles her bottom lip, hands moving to my sides to grab ahold of the shirt I’d slipped on before coming in here. “I doubt you want anything right now. I got sick today, remember? Not very attractive.”

  I fight the growing smirk as I lower my hips to let her feel how wrong she is. “Trust me, Mouse. I want you.”

  “What if I didn’t brush my teeth?”

  “I can smell the mint toothpaste.”

  I lean down closer to her.

  “What if I tell you no?”

  “Then I’ll stop.”

  My lips are so close to hers I can practically taste her. It won’t be like last time during break. No rushing. I’d take my time with her. Savor her. Like she deserves.

  “What if I told you that I’m sick?”

  My eyes focus on the way her mouth forms each word, unable to really let the words sink in. “Headaches, right?”

  Her grip on my shirt tightens as she meets me halfway for a soft kiss instead of answering. It’s chaste, barely there but still connecting us where it shouldn’t. Do I stop it from happening? No. I don’t want it to.

  I simply let our lips graze each other’s as I settle my weight down on her until my dick is pressed where it desperately wants to be. I only last there a few seconds, tracing my tongue along her lips and grinding my pelvis down on hers to relieve some of the pressure in my dick when she winces. “Wait. Stop.”

  Red alarms sound loudly in my head as I push myself up and roll my body to the side of hers. “Em?”

  Her breath becomes choppy as panic seeps into her expression. “I’m sorry. I just…”

  Not wanting her to apologize, I open my arm up for her to curl into. I’ve thought about this a lot. Cuddling. Never considered myself much of a cuddler before meeting Emery. But there’s something about her soft body and warmth that draws me in. Makes me want more.

  Makes me addicted.

  But then she says, “My sister died of an incurable autoimmune disease. She never showed it, but I know Logan was in a lot of pain, especially the months leading up to her death.”

  Throat tightening, I rub her arm in comfort and try not letting it break the moment we’re in. “Is that like a twin thing? You sensed her pain?”

  Her whisper is barely audible. “No.”

  I keep rubbing her arm, giving her friction. Warmth. Letting her know I’m here.

  “I have the same disease, Kaiden.”

  My palm freezes.

  Heart all but stops.

  I look down at the blonde in my arms.

  What. The. Fuck?

  Quickly letting her go, I dart off the bed and stare at her in disbelief. She sits up wide-eyed and silent as I seethe at her anything but casual statement.

  “Kaiden—”

  “Don’t.” My voice is sharp. Thick with a betrayal I probably don’t deserve to feel. But why hasn’t she told me this? Why now?

  Jaw clenching until my teeth ache, I search Emery’s face for any signs. Something I missed. A reason that I’ve been this clueless for so long. Deep down, I should have known. I spend a lot of time with her. Noticed little things that made her stand out from other people.

  And the hospital today…

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  “You’re not going to find anything,” she tells me sadly as she watches me examine her inch by inch.

  I dissect her pale color.

  Her glazed eyes.

  Her tiny frame.

  Nothing she can say to me right now is going to ease the monster demanding to be let loose, so I curse aloud and throw open her bedroom door not giving a shit if Henry and Cam are woken up by my outburst.

  She follows me into the hallway, calling out, “Kaiden, come on. It’s—”

  I stop halfway down the stairs, pinning her with a warning glare. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

  “When have you asked me?”

  Her comeback grates on me. “Was I supposed to guess that you’re sick, Emery? That you’re dying or some shit? I’m not a goddamn mind reader.”

  Her nostrils flare. “I’m not dying. And you knew my sister passed away! Did you ever think to ask how? Did you ever stop sulking from your own pity party of one to consider anyone but yourself? No!”

  She really fucking went there. Is she wrong? Probably not. But that doesn’t make the anger subside either.

  The light downstairs turns on and both Henry and Cam appear at the end of the staircase.

  Henry asks, “What is going on?”

  I ignore both of them like I always do and focus solely on the person I started his conversation with. “You could have offered up the information. It isn’t like you haven’t had ample opportunity since you moved here.”

  She throws her hands up. “You. Didn’t. Ask!”

  Cam steps up. “Kaiden, honey—”

  I whirl around, pointing my finger at her in accusation. “Did you know she was sick? Was this all a big fuck you to me while being left in the dark? I bet she was at the hospital for other reasons and you’re all lying to me about it.”

  Cam reaches toward me. “Kaid—”

  “This is no different than what you did with Dad. Guess what, Cam? I’m eighteen. I can handle the shit life throws at me.”

  “Really?” Emery questions in doubt from behind me. “From where I’m standing, I don’t think that’s accurate. You’re so consumed by your anger that you’re not even considering anybody else in the matter. Least of all me, who was trying to be honest with you.”

  There’s no way in hell I’m letting her say that without pointing out the obvious. She thinks she’s the victim, but she’s far from it. How long have I tried taking care of her? Showing her that I fucking cared? Does she not understand how rare that is for me? “After you lived here for months. Don’t spin this around on me like you’re innocent.”

  Henry tries cutting in by telling us we all need to calm down, and I fi
nd myself laughing at his pointless endeavor. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that you’re any better? How long have you known you had a sick daughter? One who has the same disease that took your other daughter’s life? This is why you took her in, right? You pity her.”

  In the moment, I don’t care what a low blow that is. To Henry. To Emery. I’m too consumed by the secrets being kept—the darkness everybody feels the need to wrap me in like I can’t handle the truth.

  Maybe if people trusted me, I wouldn’t be this way. Always expecting the worst. Never knowing who or what to believe.

  “I’ve let you talk down to him for long enough,” Cam says in disapproval. “This matter doesn’t concern you, Kaiden. It wasn’t information you needed to know.”

  If that doesn’t tell me everything I need to know about this little family dynamic, I don’t know what does. Because if we’re supposed to be one big happy family like my mother dreams of, she would have never said that to me.

  So, I grab my keys.

  And storm out.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m staring at my father’s gravestone like I always do when I need time to think. I trace the letters of his name with my finger.

  Adam Monroe.

  I sit back in the wet grass.

  Let the cold breeze soak into my chilled clothes.

  And close my eyes.

  Sometimes I wonder if what Emery says is true—that you can feel your loved ones in the wind. In the warmth of the sunlight. Anything.

  But all I hear is silence.

  All I feel is…numbness.

  I draw my legs up to my knees and shake my head. “What the hell am I doing, Dad?” I ask, wishing he were here. Wishing he could tell me what to do. What not to. Help me process.

  But would he?

  Toward the end of his life, he was no better than Cam. Keeping secrets. Holding back. He was in pain. Too sick to compute what he needed. From me. From my mother. If I’d known, I would have done something—anything to help him.

  I blink.

  Blink again.

  I would have done anything…

  Maybe…maybe Emery is my second chance.

  I couldn’t help my dad. I was never given the opportunity to do something about his illness. But Emery is here. In reaching distance. A flawed human like me. A breathing being willing to fight for herself—to call me out on my bullshit.

  My eyes pierce the chipped stone in front of me wondering if he spoke to me after all.

  “Fuck me,” I whisper to the wind.

  I know what I need to do.

  Be there for Emery.

  Will she let me, though?

  I sure as hell hope so.

  BONUS SCENE #3: Chapter Thirty-Nine

  I’m jolted awake by the sound of vomiting and instantly spring into action. The strangled cry escaping Emery as I dart toward the small waste basket and put it under her as she empties her stomach again has panic seeping through every fiber of my being.

  I cradle her head carefully, swiping at her damp cheeks as she cries. She’s warmer than before we went to bed. Burning up on a level that I know can’t be good. “Jesus, Em.”

  Through her choppy whimpers I hear, “S-Something’s w-wro…” Before her body starts to slump over the side of the bed.

  “Shit. Okay.” I look around, feeling my throat tighten as I try figuring out what the hell to do. Do I get Cam? Henry? I’ve noticed Emery getting worse. More tired than normal. Paler. Her energy has been limited. “Do you think you’re going to get sick again?”

  When she shakes her head, I quickly strip the bedding covered in sweat and vomit and help her up and toward the bathroom. She stumbles, dropping like dead weight, and I’m barely able to catch her before she hits the ground.

  Something’s wrong.

  Something’s wrong.

  Something’s wrong.

  “Whoa.” I catch her, supporting her weight again. “I need to get you cleaned up. Can you walk to the bathroom?”

  Flicking the light on as we enter the small room, I help peel off her pajama pants and glance up through my lashes at her pale, tear-stained face. She looks…

  I can’t look for long.

  Sick.

  Too sick.

  Something’s wrong.

  The words echo in my head. My chest.

  When she has problems lifting her right arm to help me get her out of her top, the only thing I can think to do is pick her up and bring her over to the tub.

  Something’s wrong.

  I know when I dare to look down at her again that this is beyond me. Even when I wash her in the lukewarm water, there’s nothing I can do on my own.

  I need Cam.

  I need Mom.

  Swallowing down my fear when she starts murmuring under her breath, I nod in acknowledgment and keep washing her off the best I can while holding her body up. She has no strength. No ability to stand. Can barely sit without sinking down into the water streaming around us.

  “Fuck,” I whisper under my breath, droplets getting into my eyes.

  When I’m able to get her toweled off and balanced on the closed toilet seat, I bolt out of the room.

  “Henry! Mom!” My voice is hoarse as I quick things out of the way and examine the stripped bed and sour smell. “Mom! Please Hurry!” Tone cracking as I hear two frantic sets of footsteps pounding up the stairs and to Emery’s room, I meet them halfway and point toward the bathroom.

  They follow me in, Henry bolting over to Emery’s sunken figure and examining her as I hold her upright. My hands go to her limp arms, her bobbing head. I tilt her chin up trying to get her to look at me. Her eyelids flutter, barely able to stay open. Her wet hair clinging to her face. Water rolling down her cheeks.

  When I glance over at Mom I see fear matching my own deeply woven into her eyes.

  All I can do is shake my head.

  Because I don’t know what to do.

  What to say.

  How I can help make this better.

  “What happened?” Henry demands, taking my place in front of her by practically pushing me aside. “She’s burning up. Emery? Baby girl. It’s Dad. Hold on, okay? We’re going to get you some help.”

  “I tried rinsing off the puke,” I tell him quickly, dragging my fingers through my wet hair and tugging until my scalp stings. “I tried to…I tried. I tried.”

  Mom grabs ahold of my arm and squeezes as Henry says, “She needs to go to the hospital. Now. Right now.”

  I want nothing more than to take Henry’s place as he lifts Emery from the toilet and carries her out of the room like she’s a toddler instead of a teenager. I’m quick to grab the keys and Em’s jacket from the hook and lead everybody outside, unlocking Cam’s care and opening the back door.

  I want to slide in with her.

  To hold her close to me.

  Reassure her.

  But my body is frozen in fear.

  In the uncertainty that chills my bones.

  Something inside me is screaming as Henry climbs into the back, and I refuse to let it get to me because I need to help her. To do something to save her. Do something for her when I couldn’t for my father.

  Save her.

  Save her.

  Save her.

  I’m not wearing any shoes, but the pebbles digging into the pads of my feet barely register.

  I speed us to the hospital as quickly as I can because I know I’ll feel nothing at all if I don’t get there in time.

  But what is worse? Feeling nothing? Or feeling too much?

  My fist is throbbing. I’m pretty sure one of my knuckles is broken from the punch I delivered to the glass mirror in the hospital bathroom.

  Hours.

  It’s been hours and nobody will let me see her. Family only, they said whenever I’d push.

  Then who the fuck am I?

  Who am I to my mother?

  To Henry?

  To the girl laying somewhere in the ICU with God knows what attached to her. Doct
ors are poking her. Invading her space. Trying to find answers.

  Do I want them?

  If I knew the outcome, would I want to know the truth this time? Maybe ignorance is bliss after all. It would hurt less.

  Just when I think I may put my hand through something else, the elevator opens, and I see Cam’s face appear. It’s somber. I quit pacing in the lobby, shoulders drawn back in a guarded stance as she approaches me.

  “Emery wants to see you,” she tells me.

  The exhausted looking woman in front of me takes my hand and squeezes, unknowing of the damage I’d inflicted on myself an hour ago. I’m sure security cameras will reveal what I did. If she doesn’t notice the swelling before then, somebody in a uniform will tell her what I’d done. Probably press charges.

  And I won’t care.

  For once, I don’t think she will either.

  “Kaiden,” she says, throat bobbing. “Em needs you to be strong right now. Whatever is brewing inside of you, I need you to hold it back just a little while longer. Okay? This is important.”

  My eye twitches. “I need to see her.”

  She nods once. “I know.”

  I whisper, “I need her.”

  Her eyes glaze with a fresh layer of tears.

  “I know you do,” she replies, guiding me toward the elevators and pressing the button. We ascend in silence.

  My mind swirls.

  Head full of what-ifs.

  Of the future. For me. For her. For Henry. I never cared about him that much, but anybody who loses Emery would be losing something huge. A light. Warmth. Oxygen.

  A best friend.

  Then I see her—her frailty.

  I feel the atmosphere.

  I understand the severity.

  Her hospital bed engulfs her.

  The machines are obnoxiously noisy.

  Footsteps from doctors and nurses are too loud as shoes squeak on clean tile outside the room.

  She needs you to be strong.

  Strong.

  I can do that.

  For her.

  My Mouse.

  “I was fucking worried,” I tell her, scanning the wires and tubes and lights that fill the room. My fists tighten and loosen at my sides as I fidget them. Too afraid to step closer, but not willing to back out. Not yet. “I was about to risk getting arrested just to see you. Do you know how damn hard it was standing out there while they had you in here?”