Myles (Carter Brother#3)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  “What about Maverick? He’s the eldest of you lot isn’t he?’’ I ask, not knowing much about the guy.

  “Yeah, he’s been like a dad to us, always getting us to school on time, fed, clothed and shit. I think when we moved into Granddad’s he lost a part of himself not being our full time carer. He still bosses us about, has our asses, well, Max’s, if we don’t go to school and shit. But how, the abuse our mom and dad put him through, I have no idea. I’ve never been able to work him out. He’s still a mystery. It could be it never affected him much, but I’d hear what he went through at night and I know there just isn’t any way it didn’t affect him.’’

  “Maybe his need to look after you guys is how it affected him. It could be that he feels like he failed you all somehow and that’s why he’s so protective of you. I don’t know,’’ I shrug, my heart hurting. They all had each other growing up, someone to talk to when things got bad. I, on the other hand, have no one to confide in, no one to talk to or ask for advice. It’s hard and I hate it. It’s like I’ll be forever stuck in some sort of nightmare, one I’ll never get out of.

  “What about you?’’ he asks lazily. I can feel the heat of his stare of the side of my face.

  “What about me?’’ I squeak out nervously.

  “Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Abuse isn’t just physical, it’s mental as well. Abuse can come in all sorts of ways.’’

  “Um…why are you asking me this?’’

  “It’s our project,’’ he reminds me looking at me confused.

  “My dad and I get along fine,’’ I redden.

  “What about your mom?’’ he asks, and I know he already knows the answer to his own question by the look in his eyes. I start to feel cornered, like he can read my mind, and I have to wipe my palms down my jeans in a nervous habit.

  “We clash I guess,’’ I whisper. “I’m tired, do you want to watch a film or do you need to go?’’ I blurt out, hoping he doesn’t question my quick subject change.

  “I wouldn’t mind watching a film. My back and ass are killing me though, so can we move to the bed?’’ he questions and my heart rate picks up again. I swallow the lump in my throat and nod my head in a quick jerking movement.

  We both pack our books away together. When Myles takes a seat on my bed I pause to watch him there. You’d think having him on my bed with just the two of us in the house, alone, would cause me to have a major panic attack, but looking at him getting comfortable, fluffing up all my pillows causes something else to constrict inside my chest.

  Blushing, I turn away quickly to look at my collection of DVDs. There’s a few I haven’t seen yet, so I grab the pile and turn back to Myles.

  “So, I have, The Voices, The Boy Next Door, Two Night Stand, or X-Men: Futures Past.’’ I read them off slowly, flicking through one DVD to the next.

  “X-Men: Futures Past, if that’s okay? I’ve not seen it yet.’’

  “Me neither,’’ I smile, excited to finally be watching it.

  Chapter Five

  KAYLA

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?’’ he shouts, and I can hear his feet running towards me as I try to pump my feet faster. Why can’t I run faster? My feet feel heavy and I can’t get them to move as quickly as I’d like. My heart picks up. The adrenaline is spiking through my veins, overriding the fear looming there.

  The edge of the forest is getting closer, I can see it, but then it moves further away in a blink of an eye and I scream out in frustration, my scream too quiet for my own ears. I try screaming louder, but it’s muted and I start to panic.

  He’s picking up speed behind me.

  His hand reaches the back of my blazer and I scream out, flying forward to the dirty ground. Mud and dried leaves blow up in my face and into my mouth. I cough rolling over, kicking out and trying to fight him off, but my fists and feet kick out at thin air.

  It hurts.

  His hands are everywhere, touching, slapping, grabbing and I can’t wiggle myself out. The sound of a belt undoing has another scream tearing from my mouth, until his hand clamps over it, muffling the sound. I try to break free, to scream harder for help, but nothing works.

  Another sharp pain, another muffled scream, my voice is hoarse, then I hear people, their voices and my eyes open to find my mother stood above us, she’s watching him with sickening delight, laughing that laugh that sends chills down my spine.

  “Help me Mom!’’ I cry, but she just looks through me, not seeing me or caring.

  I’m thrown onto my stomach, the sickening sound of them laughing, echoing into the trees. I try to crawl away, the pain unbearable, but I fight it, I fight him. A sickening whistle sounds through the air, and all time stops until that whack of leather hitting my back, the belt buckle cutting into my skin and I scream in excruciating pain, but I still try to wiggle free. In the midst of trying to wiggle away I aid him in removing my knickers, the cold air hitting me below and I scream.

  My face is shoved into the dirt.

  Please no! Please don’t do this. Please don’t let this happen.

  “You deserve this you little bitch. Enjoy it while you’ve got it,’’ my mother’s voice rings out sweetly from somewhere nearby.

  “You’ll enjoy it, I promise,’’ he laughs, no compassion or remorse in his voice.

  “Please don’t, please no!’’

  Then he pushes in.

  “No! No! No! No! Get off me, get off me,’’ I scream, shoving a large body off me.

  “Hey, it’s me Kayla. It’s me, Myles. It’s okay, you’re safe,’’ he tells me through my terror.

  “Please don’t touch me,’’ I heave out through my tears before rushing off the bed and out into the hallway towards the bathroom. As soon as I enter I turn on the shower before I can’t take it anymore and turn, emptying the entire contents of my stomach into the toilet. Once I’m finished I strip out of my sweat coated clothes.

  I notice the time on my watch when I take it off and gasp. It’s half two in the morning. Oh my God, did we…did we fall asleep together? I nearly rush back over to the toilet to be sick again, but the need to get his touch of me is overwhelming.

  The temperature of the water is scalding hot when I step in. It doesn’t cool in the slightest as I begin to scrub my body raw, making sure to pay extra attention between my legs. It’s moments like this that I do feel clean, but I know the second I step out of the shower I will again feel his dirty hands on me.

  I don’t know how long I’ve stayed in the shower for, but when I begin to feel lightheaded from the heat I shut the shower off, grabbing the towel out off the rack before stepping out.

  I’m hoping Myles has left by the time I go back into my room. It’s not like he has a reason to stick around. I basically just freaked out on him and screamed at him not to touch me. I don’t even want to think what I cried out in my sleep. Mortified, I grab my dressing gown off the back of the bathroom door and tie it securely around me before walking back down the hall to my bedroom.

  I’m surprised to find my bed sheets have been changed and the old ones are in a pile by the door, but what surprises me the most is Myles sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt forgone and his head in his hands. He looks like a dark angel sat there, the muscles in his shoulders tensing and the muscles in his arms bulging from where he’s leaning them on his knees.

  “Hey,’’ I whisper, and he must not have heard me walk in because as soon as he hears my voice his head snaps up. His eyes look tortured when he looks at me, and I look down embarrassed.

  “That was about him wasn’t it?’’ he questions, but it sounds more like a statement.

  “Yes,’’ I whisper, still not able to look at him. “We must have fallen asleep.’’

  “Yeah, I… um, here, put this on,’’ he tells me, walking over with his lost shirt. I take in a huge gasp of air when I see the outline of his abdominal muscles. They’re cut to perfection and he has that V thing going on that I read about in
my books. He has a faint line of hair trailing down to his um, nether region, it looks sexy as hell. I swallow the lump forming in my dry throat and the sudden need for water feels almost painful.

  Moving closer he lifts his arms with his t-shirt scrunched up, and moves closer towards me, pulling the t-shirt over my head.

  “Um, you should do the rest,’’ he coughs before turning around. I slip my arms out of my dressing gown and push my arms through the t-shirt before pulling it down over the towel.

  “Stay turned,’’ I whisper, my voice hoarse from the dryness and from the crying I’ve done. With shaky fingers I walk over to my chest of drawers and find a pair of knickers and shorts, slipping them on under the towel. Once I’ve done that I drop the towel, picking it up and chucking it over the chair. His shirt smells like him and I find it oddly comforting. I inhale the smell, loving his intoxicating scent before dropping it back down. It falls loosely just above my knees. “You can turn around now.’’

  I move over to the bed to sit down, too embarrassed, and confused on what I should say. It’s late, I’m tired, and I just want to curl up in a ball and forget about my nightmare.

  “You should probably go,’’ I choke out, then jump, startled when I feel him sit on the bed next to me.

  “I’m not going anywhere,’’ he starts, and when I go to protest he holds his hand up stopping me. “I’m not leaving you here alone when you’ve just had a nightmare. Your dad isn’t even back yet, so I’m not leaving. Come on, get into bed. I’ll lie on top of the covers,’’ he tells me, opening up the duvet.

  I crawl inside the duvet, lying down so I’m facing him and watch as he tucks me in and lies down in the same position, but on top of the covers facing me.

  “Do you want to talk about it?’’ he whispers, his fingers brushing a strand of wayward hair from off my face.

  “Not really. I have a nightmare every night. Sometimes it’s about what happened, sometimes it’s different, my mom or someone will be there taunting me,’’ I shrug, feeling another tear slide down my cheek. My hand tries to reach out from under the duvet, but Myles’ hand reaches out, his thumb wiping the tear away, and I sigh.

  “What does your mom say?’’ he asks. My heart stops, but I pause, a feeling I’ve not had since the rape happened. I want to talk; I want to tell Myles all of it. How my mother taunts me in my nightmare, laughs at me and encourages Davis to hurt me. It’s how I find myself opening my mouth and telling him. I tell him everything, about how she stands there watching, laughing, taunting, how sometimes there’s other voices, but I don’t know who they belong to. It’s mostly the same every night, but on the rare occasion it will be what actually happened that day, from the very minute I took the short cut home so that I could be back on time.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you,’’ he whispers softly, but his jaw is hard and his eyes look distant and lost.

  “Life happens,’’ I mumble, not believing a word of what I say. Life is cruel and unfair. Sometimes I feel selfish because there are people all around the world with a harder life than mine. “There are people far worse off.’’

  “That may be true, Kayla, but it doesn’t excuse what happened to you. Just because someone out there has it worse doesn’t make your pain any less significant. It happened to you, not them. It’s your pain that you suffer with. You’re a brave, strong, woman, and I don’t think you should blow off your pain just because someone else has it bad.’’

  My mind runs over what he said and I can understand what he’s trying to tell me. It still doesn’t excuse the fact that life keeps fucking me over. I must have been a worldwide known serial killer in my previous life, because I know I’ve done nothing in this life to deserve what I’m going through.

  My eyes flick to Myles’ deep, dark brown ones. We stare for what feels like hours, neither of us talking, and before I know it, I’m drifting off asleep.

  My body is warm and the bed is comfortably hard beneath me. I groan when the stiffness in my neck cricks. The bed shifts beneath me, and I freeze when I hear a male groan. My body is curled around Myles like a blanket. My leg is thrown over both of his. My girly parts shoved against his hips, and I can feel his… I can feel his morning wood against my legs.

  Nervously I lift my head off his shoulder and lean up to look at his sleeping form. Asleep he looks relaxed, peaceful, and much younger than he does when he’s awake. With a mind of its own my hand reaches up and I lightly run my finger along his eyebrow, his features scrunching making him look adorable. I find myself smiling as I trace my finger down his beautiful straight nose to his full plump lips. His bottom lip is fuller than his top one, it’s sexy, and I run my finger along them, loving how soft they feel under my touch. His lips pucker, kissing my finger tips, and a delicious shiver I’ve never felt before runs through my body.

  “Was I drooling?’’ he asks, his hard body rumbling against me and I fall back squeaking.

  “I’m sorry, I’m, oh God, I’m so sorry,’’ I blurt, my face heating like an oven.

  He chuckles and I notice my leg is still over his and when I try to move it slowly, hoping he doesn’t notice, my knee grazes against his morning wood.

  Oh crap, now what do I do.

  It’s taken out of my hands when Myles reaches down and grabs my knee, lifting it off him as he follows, rolling onto his side to face me.

  “Morning,’’ he breathes huskily, his voice still full of sleep. His eyes are half mass, still full with sleep.

  “Morning,’’ I blush.

  “Did you sleep okay?’’

  “Better than I have in a long time,’’ I tell him honestly. There’s no point in lying. We both know he would have heard me if I had had another nightmare.

  “Sweetie, it’s half seven, you’re going to be late,’’ my dad calls. I jump back from Myles, banging my head against the bed frame.

  “Yeah, Dad. I’m up,’’ I shout back. I’m so glad he isn’t one of those fathers who walk in to wake their kids up.

  “I’m going to bed, kid,’’ he shouts, and I look to the door to my room, confused. Before I can think much else of it, I’m straddling Myles. His hard erection pressed up against my core and I nearly fly sideways off the bed with a squeal.

  “Hold up, Dad,’’ I shout, sounding out of breath. I don’t look back at Myles. I’m too scared of what he’ll see in my expression. I can’t believe I just got out of bed like that, pressing myself unintentionally against his penis. Jesus, it was hard. And long. And, my God, something else.

  I rush to open the bedroom door, before slamming it shut behind me and walk down the narrow hallway to my dad’s bedroom. His bedroom is at the back of the house, his room the farthest away from any of the others.

  “Have you only just gotten in?’’ I question, worriedly. He’s been working a hell of a lot lately, and it seems to be since we moved back to town. I feel like he’s not telling me something, but then, he’s never really discussed his business with me before, so I don’t expect him to start now.

  “Yeah, Darling. We’ve had a lot going on opening up the new branch. I’m hoping my hours will die down once it’s all settled.’’

  “Are you sure everything’s okay?’’ I can tell when he’s hiding something or lying, his eyes always flicker to the left before landing back on me.

  “Yeah, get to school and I’ll speak to you later. I probably won’t be back until ten tonight, but I do promise to call this time if I’m going to be out all night. I should have called your mother or something,’’ he tells me.

  “No. No, that’s totally fine. I’m a big girl dad; I’m eighteen, nearly nineteen. I’m old enough to look after myself. You know this.’’

  “I know Sweetie, but until you turn twenty one, you know the rules,’’ he smiles and I groan. Because of everything that’s happened I have to wait until I’m twenty-one to legally become an adult as such. While most kids my age are off to college, out drinking in nightclubs, I’m stuck living with the rents like a sixt
een year old child. All because of the state my mental health was in when everything happened. Legally, I can leave when I want to, but it means I won’t be able to finish school, or support myself financially. I’m classed as unstable until they do another consultation at the end of the month.

  It’s one of the reasons I see my mother on weekends. You see, the real reason isn’t because we’re mother and daughter and I’m legally bound, it’s because she’s blackmailing me. She’s pretty much done it since I gave in my statement a few months back. She said if I didn’t keep up appearances she would make sure a court sees me as unfit to live on my own ever. I believe she will do this, especially since she wants legal rights to my trust fund, and the fact my father pays for her house and bills. And the only reason he does this is so I have somewhere safe to stay when I’m with her.

  I was supposed to inherit my trust fund as such when I turned eighteen, but because of my mental health at the time they decided against it, so now I have to wait until I’m twenty-one. Which I’m not really bothered about, I never earned the money in the first place, but it’s the fact I could use that money to get away from her. So one wrong move on my end and she will make my life a living hell more than she already does.

  “I know, Dad,’’ I say rolling my eyes. “When I have my examination at the end of the month you’ll see I’m better. I’m not bothered about what I get or don’t get, I just want my independence back.’’

  “You are independent, and I can see a massive change in you since we’ve moved back here. To be honest, I was worried at first about coming back, but I think facing your fears has helped in some way. I know I can trust you, but after, after last time, Honey-”

  “I know, Dad,’’ I tell him, giving him a small smile. I don’t need to hear about the mistakes I’ve made in the past, but if only he knew what it felt to be that worthless, to be that dirty, maybe then he could somehow understand the reasons why I did what I did.

  “Go get ready for school,’’ he smiles gently, his eyes worn and tired.