Myles (Carter Brother#3)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  “Darling, how was school?’’

  “Good. I did some mock exams today and pretty sure I nailed them,’’ I grin, knowing there is no way I got remotely one answer wrong on those tests. I’d revised like a mad woman, and knew the answers confidently. There was not one I was unsure of.

  “That’s lovely,’’ he tells me, smiling back. “Would you like to grab something for dinner once we’re finished here?’’

  “Sure,’’ I shrug, dropping my school bag to the floor by my feet. I won’t hold my breath. Nearly every session he tells me the same thing, but as soon as I step out of the room, he has a phone call that has him stepping away for another meeting.

  “Kayla Martin?’’ my therapists, receptionist calls.

  I stand up just as my dad wishes me luck, and I make my way into the doomed room. It’s not like the therapist rooms that you see on the television. You know the ones that have the fainting couches, the lightly dimmed room that’s filled with candles, and the soft music playing in the background? Yeah, that is so not like my therapist’s office. It’s a basic room. Walking inside, the desk is straight in front of you, filing cabinets behind that run along the wall, and a large window with blinds half open on the next wall. Then, to the left of the door are two sets of chairs that make the school chairs look comfy, with a little round coffee table centred in the middle.

  Mr. Stanley gets up from his chair to greet me, holding his pudgy hand out to me. The man is overweight, balding, and the little hair he does have left, is turning grey. His suit looks new, expensive, but he obviously hasn’t looked after it considering he’s still got crumbs on his tie, a coffee stain on his shirt, and I don’t even want to imagine what the other stain on the sleeve of his suit jacket is.

  Vomit!

  “Kayla, take a seat. Would you like something to drink?’’ he asks, ever so politely. I’d love to say yes because after travelling on the bus, and being at school all day, I’m parched, but there is no way I’ll accept a drink from him. The little made-up kitchenette he’s made above one of the filing cabinets looks to have seen better days. I’m pretty sure I once saw a spider climbing all over his cup before he took a sip. I’d like to confirm this, but that poor spider had crawled off so quickly I didn’t have a chance.

  “No, thank you. I’m good.’’

  “As you know from our last session your mother was quite concerned about your behaviour. You seem to be distancing yourself from people, becoming confrontational towards her. Has that changed since we last spoke?’’

  For the first time I can say what I really want to say. My mother isn’t here to dig her fake manicured nails into my arm.

  “Since we finally have privacy, Mr. Stanley, I’d like to point out that not once did you ever ask me any of this when my mother was in the room. So, I’d also like to point out I’m not confrontational. I also can’t distance myself from people I hardly see, Mr. Stanley. I’ve made huge progress since the first time you saw me, and I’ll also add I’ve made friends, and we’re really close.’’

  “I’m sorry. Your mother just seems to be very worried about you.’’

  I want to laugh in his face, and although I’ve had this boost of confidence to finally speak my mind, I’m not that brave.

  “Not to be rude, Sir, but you don’t know my mother. She isn’t worried about me at all. If she was…’’ I stop myself short before I can say anything more, knowing he can report her.

  “Go on,’’ he says, writing something down on his paper. I hate it when he does that because his eyes hardly move away from mine, and his gaze always has me feeling unsettled.

  “It doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is that, I’m the one who was raped, I’m the one my mother made keep it quiet, making me feel ashamed about it, and I’m the one recovering from it. I’d like to say I’m completely healed, that I’ve finally come to terms with what happened to me, but I’d be lying. Who can really get over something like that? I’m never going to be able to, but what I can do is move on from it, but having these restrictions on me, especially at eighteen, is not helping, Mr. Stanley, so I’m begging, no pleading, for you to reconsider your last diagnosis.’’

  “It’s my job to look after your best interests, Kayla. You tried to kill yourself twice, we just need to make sure you’re better.’’ I go to speak, but he puts his hands up stopping me. “That said, the last time I saw you I did feel like you were doing much better. I spoke with your father about it and he agrees wholeheartedly that you have overcome so much since moving back to Coldenshire. They were worried at first on how the move would affect you emotionally, but it seems you’ve been doing brilliantly. From now on, our sessions will be every six months. As for your restrictions, they’ve already been removed. I contacted your mother right after going over our last session, did she not mention it?’’

  “No she didn’t,’’ I grit out. His comment about me taking my own life also grates on my nerves. He knows nothing; no one does unless they’ve felt what I felt, suffered what I have. Every day was torture for me, all I wanted was for the voices inside my head to stop, the images of what happened to stop playing over and over in my head. It didn’t, though, and each day was a constant reminder of what happened to me.

  For the first few months I took the hottest showers possible, burning my skin, and scrubbing it to the point it would be red raw by the time I walked out of the shower. My skin would be sore for months and months afterwards.

  You can call me weak. Tell me I don’t deserve to live, that there are people out there fighting for their lives that would appreciate the chance I’ve been given.

  But imagine having to live a life where your nightmare is playing constantly in your mind, whether you’re awake or asleep. Hearing his voice around every corner you turn and been too afraid to leave your room. Then there’s the not feeling clean. Having to shower every chance you get, but still not feeling any cleaner and still feeling his hands all over you. But the worst part of it all was been powerless to stop it. In a way, I guess, ending my life was my way of gaining power, and not just ending my living nightmare.

  I never made the decision lightly either, but no matter how much I played it in my head on how to try make it better, to make all the pain, hurt, and memories to stop, I always came back to ending it all.

  It worked too. Until the very second I woke up in the hospital bed and everything came flooding back. As soon as I had the chance, I did it again. I’m a stronger person now though; I’m learning to deal with more than just my nightmares, but with everyday living.

  “Right,’’ he mutters, writing down in that damn pad again, interrupting me from my thoughts.

  “We’ve got half an hour left of today’s session, is there anything you would like to discuss?’’

  I shrug, hating this part. I never know what to say. And when I do finally talk, he listens, but he always stares, gauging every reaction, every movement I make, and it’s so unnerving. I hate it. I’d rather have a crowd of a million people watching me than have just that one person stare at me.

  “Okay, I’ll go. You mentioned you made some friends. You want to tell me about them?’’

  And that’s how I spend the last half an hour of my session. I tell him all about Myles, Max, Denny, and Harlow. I mention the other Carter brothers too, but mostly Myles and Max. I mention who Harlow is, what happened to her, and how it made me feel. I tell him about Denny, what happened to her and why, and he listens, gives me feedback, asks me questions. I’m glad he doesn’t think it’s not a good idea for me mentally to speak with Harlow. He even said it was great that I had the courage to do what I did meeting her, although he does believe I have nothing to be sorry for. He’s wrong, though, if I had said something sooner, had the courage Harlow had, then he wouldn’t have been able to have hurt her, and his brother wouldn’t have hurt Denny.

  “Carol, can you please send in Mr. Martin, please,’’ Mr. Stanley calls through the phone.

  A few seconds later the
door knocks once before my dad walks in looking puzzled, carrying my school bag.

  “Hello, is something wrong?’’ he asks Mr. Stanley concerned, before looking me over to check I’m okay.

  “Yes, I just wanted to let you know that Kayla’s restrictions were revoked at our last session. It seems Ms. Martin forgot to pass on this information to you and Kayla. I’ll also be stretching our appointments out. Our session will be every six months, but with the progress I’ve seen, the confidence in Kayla in today’s session; I can see us spreading them farther apart in the near future. Do you have questions?’’

  “So she won’t need twenty four-hour monitoring?’’ I turn to my dad when he speaks. I’m surprised by the tone in his voice. He almost sounds relieved and it confuses me. When his eyes start to water my eyes widen in shock. What. On. Earth…? “Thank you Lord. I’ve been so worried she’d have another relapse. Honey, I’m so proud of you,’’ he tells me, his voice choked up with tears.

  “Dad,’’ I whisper, feeling my own eyes start to water.

  He just shakes his head then turns to Mr. Stanley and shakes his hand. Then he takes mine and walks us out of the door. As soon as we get back into the reception area he turns to me with a frown and I automatically know what’s coming.

  “I know, I know, you’ve got another meeting,’’ I grumble, waving him off, but he just looks at me confused.

  “Huh?’’

  “You were about to tell me you needed to cancel our dinner date because you had a meeting, weren’t you?’’ I ask stepping out into the fresh air.

  “Um no, I was going to say you can invite those friends of yours to dinner. We can wait until they get to the restaurant to order,’’ he tells me and I’m completely taken aback, even more so when he turns to me looking sheepish. “Do I really bail that much on you, sweetie?’’

  Not one to lie, I tell him the truth. “Every darn session.’’

  “God, I’m such a shit father. I promise honey, no more. Actually, cancel on your friends, we can do that another time, tonight we need to celebrate. Plus, I have something I’d like to share with you, it’s important.’’

  When I look over to him I can’t gauge his reaction, he looks worried about something, but his facial expression isn’t giving anything away. It concerns me a little, but as I’ve not sensed anything major going on, or any tension coming from him, I nod my head and follow him down the street to where he parked his car.

  He takes us to one of the nicer restaurants in town, which shouldn’t have surprised me, but I’m still wearing my school uniform and feel so out of place. The restaurant is somewhere you’d take a date, not your daughter.

  After ordering our food, the waitress walks off and I turn to my dad noticing him shifting in his seat nervously.

  “What did you want to tell me?’’ I ask him, hoping like mad it’s nothing to do with staying at moms.

  “Well, you know me and your mother have been separated for some time now?’’ he asks slowly.

  Please don’t tell me you’re getting back together with that witch. “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’ve been lonely. Your mother and I haven’t exactly had a great relationship; I think we were over before we were officially over…”

  “Dad, just spit it out,’’ I smile, keeping my tone light.

  “I’m seeing someone. She works for me. At first it was just some fling, but I’ve come to really care about her.’’

  He stops his nervous ramble and stares at me, trying to gauge my reaction. I should have seen it coming. He’s a good looking man for his age, and extremely wealthy. I’m just unsure how I feel about it.

  “Is that all?’’ I ask, not knowing how I truly feel. I think I’m more worried she’s going to be like my mother. I know I won’t be able to handle another gold-digging witch, especially if it’s as serious as dad is making it out to be.

  “Well, I’m also hoping, if it’s okay with you, if she comes over for dinner at the weekend?’’

  “Ah, dad, that’s what I needed to talk to you about. Now my restriction has been provoked, I was hoping you would give me your permission to go away for the weekend with my friends. They’ve planned a trip to a theme park, and they asked me to go with them. I said yes, but I wanted to check in with you first.’’

  “That’s okay, Honey. We can reschedule for another time. I’m more worried about how upset your mother will be. She’s expecting you this weekend, right?’’

  “Actually, that’s another thing I want to talk to you about. I’m not going to be staying over at moms again.’’

  “What? Why? Don’t you like it there?’’

  Shit. I said too much. “With all my homework and stuff, it’s easier to work from home. The shelter I work at on a Saturday is closer to your house than it is moms. We still don’t have the best relationship, and I’d really love it if you could support me on this, Dad. I’m a grown adult who has been through some bad stuff, but I know what I need. I just need you to support me,’’ I ask him, my voice quiet and pleading.

  He looks at my eyes and I start to panic he can see more than I told him. If he finds out what mom does to me, he’ll end up in jail or worse, she’ll kill me. I’ve never been brave enough to tell anyone anyway, just in case they never believed me. It’s easier to keep it to myself.

  “I understand. I just don’t understand why. Your mother will be really disappointed and upset.’’

  Like hell she will. Just wish I could say that out loud.

  “Please, she’ll be fine.’’

  “Okay, let me just give her a call…’’

  “No! Just… let’s enjoy our meal first. Tell me all about this new woman?’’ I ask, and like that his face lights up and he tells me all about his new girlfriend, who now has a name, Katie.

  “I’ll see you later,’’ I wave off to my dad, hoping like hell that he listened when I asked him to talk to mom over the weekend instead of tonight. He tried to talk me out of it, telling me it’s unfair to cancel on such short notice in case she has plans to take me somewhere. Only I know different. So I lied and told him she has an important date tonight, and if she finds out I’m not going the weekend it will ruin her date if she’s being miserable over me. He seemed to perk up when he found out she wouldn’t be on her own.

  “Call me if you change your mind about me picking you up,’’ he shouts, and then pulls out of Charlie’s driveway.

  I walk in, not bothering to knock on the door. I’ve never needed to. Charlie’s mom greets me with a wide smile.

  “Kayla, it’s so good to see you. Charlie’s upstairs in her room. She’s feeling a little tired and sluggish today, so if you don’t mind sitting up in her room with her?’’

  “I don’t mind,’’ I smile, moving towards the stairs.

  “Would you take these up for me please, Honey?’’

  I turn back around to see her mom walk out of the kitchen with a tray of drinks, snacks, and other stuff along with a prescription bottle of medication.

  “I don’t mind,’’ I tell her, taking the tray from her, thankful it’s not too heavy.

  “I’m so glad you’re here for her, Kayla. You’re a good girl,’’ she tells me, her eyes glistening with tears before she turns and walks into the kitchen.

  Charlie’s house is smaller than mine, far smaller, but it’s still the perfect size for Charlie and her family. It’s a four bedroom, and with only her parents and Charlie occupying those rooms. They use one of the spare rooms as a cinema. It’s great in there. I’m hoping I can get her to move into the room next to her, so we can chill and watch a movie.

  “Hey you,’’ I grin, walking into her room and heading straight for her desk to drop the tray down.

  “Hey,’’ she answers softly, her face yellow, yet pale, and her body looks drained. She has dark circles under her eyes and I know that the cinema next door is out of the question. She can barely lift her head let alone get up to walk next door.

  “You don’t look so good,�
��’ I mumble, grabbing her prescription and her drink. “Your mom said to bring these up, I’m taking it that you have to take it now?’’

  “Yeah, sorry. I’m just so tired.’’

  “It’s fine. I pop the pill into her mouth after reading the label on the bottle, and then hold the straw in the glass to her lips.

  “I’d ask how you are, but I can see it’s not so good,’’ I tell her, smiling gently.

  She chuckles, but it ends up turning into a cough, her face wincing in pain. Once it stops she turns to me with her eyes filled with tears.

  “Please tell me about your weekend,’’ she stumbles, her voice soft, quiet and tired.

  “It’s been really good. I wish you were there on Saturday. Denny pulled out all the stops at the sleepover, buying a ton of fluffy blankets and pillows for us to lie on. She said she’s keeping them so we can do it again next time, so hopefully you’ll be better by then,’’ I smile.

  “Sounds like a plan, Stan,’’ she teases, smiling at me. “How are things with Myles?’’

  “Good.’’

  “Seriously, Kayla. Be honest. This is me.’’

  “Gah, I swear he drives me crazy,’’ I tell her, standing up to pace back and forth. “Every time he touches me he sets my skin alight. Every time he looks at me my face flushes red, and don’t even get me started on the tingles, or the way my belly does a summersault when he’s near. Then there’s his voice, God, his voice, it’s so deep, so memorising, gentle and loving. I could listen to him all day. In fact, he’d be perfect to do one of those audio books.’’

  “You love him,’’ she states, not a question, and I look at her horrified.

  “I do not.’’

  “Do too,’’ she grins. “Admit it, you love him. You deserve this, Kayla.’’

  “I’m dirty, though,’’ I choke out once I realise I do in fact have strong feelings for Myles. It may or may not be love, I don’t know. What I do know is there isn’t anyone other than him I’d rather be with.

  “Huh?’’

  “I’m unclean, dirty, tainted, ruined, and used. I’m all of those and more. He deserves someone pure. Someone clean, and perfect, not someone like me,’’ I tell her, looking down at my lap now that I’m sitting down next to her again. She reaches out with her cold hand and places it down on mine. She squeezes it gently, and I’m sure just that movement has taken up all of her strength.