by Harlow Cole
The television clicked on to a rerun of Seinfeld.
I clutched on to the side of the counter, leaning my lower back against it to brace myself, as I stared at the floor beneath my feet. “How did things . . . I mean . . . does Matt still think . . .”
I’d been a nervous wreck all day, ever since I’d received a message from Dillan about the morning’s events. I’d driven straight to the police station and grilled him for details. He’d made me promise not to run over and insert myself. It had taken a few hours to overcome the shock of Brayden’s drag-him-out-of-bed methodology. But, once I had, all my thoughts gave way to more fear. Fear that I would give in and secretly let myself believe this could work.
“I know you’re probably pissed at me for not waiting and for not including you.”
I shook my head, refusing to look at him.
“It had to go down this way, baby girl. I know what I’m doing.”
At least he hadn’t directly asked me to trust him again.
He stepped closer to me, tipping my chin up with a bent knuckle. His tired eyes softened as they connected with my own.
“Breathe, Ash,” he murmured before exaggerating the rise and fall of his own chest.
One side of his mouth turned up when I successfully listened. As I inhaled a long breath. My hands loosened their death grip on the counter and fell back to my sides.
“It went well.”
“Really?” My voice rose with skepticism.
I bit my bottom lip, trying to prepare myself for impending hurt. There was always a but. It’s the word people used right before they dropped the hammer. Only Brayden just stood there and stared at me.
“But?” I finally prompted.
“But nothing. Matt doesn’t see any reason to refute his assessment. This can work, Ash. We just have to make your brother want it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t stave off the ribbons of emotion uncurling inside me. I’d spent so many years on the receiving end of more bad news, I’d forgotten how to welcome relief.
My eyes startled back open as Brayden’s index finger trailed down the side of my arm. He watched it descend before letting his hand fall away.
“Have you thought any more about the trip? About coming with me?”
“Brayden . . .”
Our eyes finally met, inviting combustion.
He moved quickly, placing both hands around my waist as he pulled me against him. His lips brushed softly against my own.
But, just as he started to deepen the kiss, my brother shouted out from the other room, breaking the spell, “Ashley! When the hell are we eating?”
Brayden took a step back, sighing. “Just think about it, Ash. Please.” He resettled his hat with the brim facing forward. The move seemed to reset his resolve as well. “I’ll be back again tomorrow. And the day after that. I’ll keep coming back. Every day until you say yes.”
* * *
Brayden
“You’re doing great. I never thought you’d be able to do this so fast. Let’s try three more,” Matt said. “Rest longer in between if you need to.”
The robotic exoskeleton system, that Nathan lay strapped to, helped work legs that refused to stay useless. Watching him made me want to hum the theme to Superman while busting into pansy-assed tears. Yesterday, I’d had to step outside twice, pretending to take phone calls, just to keep my emotions in check. He did two more reps. His small movements surged through my own spine like the national anthem during a gold medal victory.
While I stood there with a case of girlie tingles, his face scrunched up from pain and exertion.
“That’s it. You’ve got this, man.” The words of encouragement slipped right out of me. I’d forgotten my new pledge to keep my mouth shut.
He belted out a quick reminder, “Shut the fuck up, asshole. I don’t need you talking in my face.”
The morning of his kidnapping, Nathan had refused to get out of the car. He’d sat in my driveway with the blue lights still swirling on top of Dillan’s cruiser, talking to himself. He went on a nonstop two-hour rant. The passenger seat headrest made friends with his angry fists. He’d called me colorful names I’d never even heard.
Matt made us leave him there. Said he’d seen it all before. A guy couldn’t learn to plow ahead to a new life until he left the old one behind.
“Leave him be. He’s gotta let the hate drain out.”
Since that first day, Nathan hadn’t engaged in another meltdown. He still refused to get in a car with me again and claimed he would never even speak to Dillan, but he let Matt pick him up and take him home every day. He listened to Matt’s instructions with patience and grace, replying with only quiet nods and gritty determination.
But that original back seat tantrum hadn’t finished the job. Nathan’s hatred for me needed to ooze out one drop at a time. We’d settled instead into a predictable pattern. His mouth served up short jabs and uppercuts, while I stood there and took it like a man.
“Can you please give this dickhead something to do other than gawk at me like I’m some circus freak?” Nathan called out, pushing himself through one final rep.
Matt smirked as he turned toward me. “He’s right. Get back to it, Ross. I’m not running a preschool here.”
I tried to refocus on my own workout.
But the reverse rule did not apply.
“Jesus. Is that all you’ve got? How much weight is on there?” Nathan snickered, judging me from across the room.
I refused to respond.
Responding made it so much worse.
“Moneybags, the Yankees are not gonna pay you twenty-six million next year to look that weak.”
I added another weight to the stack on my machine and bit my tongue.
“Seriously, you might want to start working on a new career plan. Can’t your daddy score you a gig in the booth? This is the first comeback that’s over before it’s even begun.”
That last one stung a little.
I didn’t mind taking his ire. I deserved it. I just would’ve preferred to stand in front of him while he pummeled me with his fists. Not because I couldn’t take the pain, but because the constant belligerence was so unlike the old friend I’d once known.
Every barb he threw my way served up a reminder that the dude I’d loved like a brother might never completely return. Matt kept warning me about that, too. He’d told me stories about guys he’d served with who healed faster on the outside than they did inside their heads.
PTSD could change personalities.
So could bitterness.
Ironically, the daily heckling forced me to work harder. Just like the old days, there was Nathan, pushing me in the gym further than I’d go on my own.
I finished our sessions dripping with sweat but fired up for more. Matt kept cautioning me not to let the insults goad me into pushing too hard, too fast. But I kept using the ugly comments to drive me.
Truthfully, I’d have put up with anything.
As long as Nathan agreed to keep coming back.
After his tantrum subsided that very first day, Matt had walked him through an overview of the program. The strength-building, nerve-healing, mental game that would eventually prepare him to use a special harness system to relearn how to take steps. The process would be slow-going; the whole plan could take a year or more. To buffer that news, Matt had shown Nathan pictures of his buddy Gavin and video of him taking his first steps in the very same contraption we’d have installed here.
Nathan had palmed the bill of his baseball cap while he listened to Matt talk about his friend with unrestrained emotion. He’d thought his response was well hidden, but I’d known better.
My plan had a shot in the dark.
Stuffed down beneath his scruffy face and sullen attitude hid my old friend. And a tiny glimmer of hope. Not that he would ever let any of that touchy-feely crap bubble up to the surface.
“What’s it like, fucking Celeste?” he called out to me during our next wat
er break. “That chick has amazing tits. She looked smokin’ at that movie premiere you took her to.”
I wasn’t the only one who’d spent a lot of time doing research the last couple of years. Nathan knew a whole lot about my life in New York.
“Does my sister know about her? I mean, I never figured Ashley would be happy as a token sidepiece. But maybe she’s that desperate.”
I inhaled, trying to ignore my mashed buttons. I walked to a shoulder machine and dropped down onto the seat, thinking I could grunt my way through what I really wanted to say. It didn’t work. Defending Ashley wasn’t something I could ever ignore.
I slammed the weight stack down and rounded to look at him. “Nathan, shut the fuck up. Celeste and I are just friends. And I’m not gonna listen to you talk about your sister like that.”
“Whatever, dude. Pretty sure my sister’s gone through her fair share of sunbirds, so don’t go thinking you have a magic dick or something. Sooner or later, she’ll wake up and see the writing on the wall and realize you’re an asshole.”
He barely paused to reload.
“Weren’t you dating the actress from that spy movie and Monica Barnes at the same time? I guess you’re used to having a side dish, aren’t you?”
“Nathan, try not believing everything you Google.”
“What I can’t believe is you’ve had a smoking-hot sister all these years, and we never knew it.” Like any true competitor, he aimed right for the jugular. “That chick has legs meant for wrapping around hips.”
“Jesus, when did you turn into Bobby? Knock it off. Jess is only nineteen.”
“Only? Like that should stop me.”
Nathan had crossed paths with my sister three days into our training. She was getting ready to fly home with my mom to spend some time in Oklahoma before the new semester started. Unfortunately, the town car I hired to take them to the airport arrived just as the guys pulled up in Matt’s car.
“Nathan, stop talking about her.”
“Oh, what? Now, there are boundaries? My sister was up for grabs, but I’m not allowed to look at yours?”
“I will hit you again. You know that, right?”
Matt knocked his clipboard with the palm of his hand, forcing us both to snap to attention. “Look, ladies”—his top lip curled up with sarcasm—“I’m trained to kill with my bare hands, and I’ll hit you both if you don’t stop jawing at each other.”
Peace reigned for a little while after that. By the end of our afternoon session, my brain and body were spent. Luckily, Nathan had also sweat out a good deal of piss and venom.
I brought him a chilled towel and an equally cold beer. “For some reason, I still feel like being nice to you.”
“Don’t knock yourself out, pretty boy.” He took my peace offerings and rolled out onto the back deck in his chair.
I popped the cap off my bottle and followed behind him. “You know you’ve made incredible progress already. I don’t think Matt ever thought you’d build strength up this fast. We’re gonna get you walking again, Nathan.”
He tipped the top of his bottle toward me. “There’s no we in this whole shooting match. Let’s get that straight right now. You get all the glory for breaking me, but you’re not gonna take any of the credit for what’s going down now. Don’t expect any fluffy thank-yous or for me to wanna suddenly hug it out.”
When I didn’t respond, he backed down and sat quietly, finishing his beer. I used the short respite to shore up my courage.
“I have a job opportunity for your sister. A chance for her to do a photography shoot.”
“You’ve got her baited right on the end of a hook, don’t you?” He jammed a crooked finger into the side of his mouth in a crude demonstration of a caught fish.
“Nathan.” I sighed.
“Whatever. So, what’s the catch? Why the fuck are you telling me this?”
“The job’s in New York. She’d have to travel there with me for a couple of days.”
“Great. Well, we both know your rap sheet already includes kidnapping, and word around town is you have a private jet parked on the airfield in Easton. So, what are you waiting for? My permission?” He snickered. “You didn’t bother to ask my permission years ago, so why bother now?”
“I already asked her. She doesn’t want to leave work. Or leave you.”
Drum roll, please.
“So, I’ve been thinking, maybe you could come with us. It would give you a chance to see Cindi.”
“Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
I blew out a breath. “It was worth a try,” I mumbled to myself.
“But I don’t give a rat’s ass if she goes,” he added, much to my surprise. “I don’t know why she stays in this damn town anyway.”
“She stays ’cause she loves you. And she thinks working hard is the only way to show it.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“And you talk a good game, but you love her, too.”
He didn’t respond, but he looked away from me.
More hiding.
I know you’re still in there somewhere, buddy.
“You know she thinks all this is her fault.”
He slowly turned to face me. His eyes told me that fact wasn’t news to him.
“She thinks she sent you right into my path that night.”
“She did.” He paused and swallowed down a swig of beer. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have been there anyway.”
He bit down on the inside of his cheek. He used to do that right before he stepped up to the plate.
He stared down at the label on his bottle. “She was a mess that night. Couldn’t even get into the house. She collapsed in the driveway. I had to carry her inside. She was dry-heaving. Had snot and tears caked all over her face. Wasn’t making much sense.” He looked back over at me, eyes suddenly deep and intense. “What she doesn’t know is, as soon as I got her settled, I would’ve come anyway. Whether she’d asked me to or not, I would’ve come to pound your ass for breaking her heart.”
I inhaled deeply, sucking his words into my brain.
“Maybe you should try telling her that,” I responded quietly.
“Maybe you should just stay the fuck out of our business.”
I downed the rest of my beer and stood from where I’d been leaning against the deck rail. I’d beaten my head against the same wall one too many times today.
“I’m sure Matt can give you a lift home whenever you’re ready.”
“Brayden,” he called back to me as I opened the sliding door to retreat, “you were right about one thing. I might not show it a lot, but I do love her. If you hurt her like before, I will come for you again. And, this time, I’ll make sure you’re the one left bleeding.”
20
Shoved
Ashley
“We missed you at dinner.”
I startled as he rolled into the room. I’d been so caught up in recalculating projections for the month ahead, I hadn’t even heard my brother come in the house.
“Hey. Yeah, sorry. I got your text. I just wanted to stay and finish this. Did you guys have a good time?”
“Matt and I just grabbed some crab cakes at Skipper’s. It was pretty good. Ran into Dillan. He groveled enough I let him join us.”
After a couple weeks of general hostility, my brother was finally showing signs of caving. I assumed the change in spirit came in part from Matt’s combat training—his ability to break down enemy resistance. But it was also bolstered by Nathan’s own self-recognition. Progress was coming faster than anyone expected.
Even he couldn’t deny it.
I didn’t want to admit Brayden had been right, but maybe the swift shove was all my brother ever needed.
Subtle differences had started to break through. Nathan hadn’t cut his hair, but it was washed and neatly combed back into a tight ponytail. He was wearing a sleeveless athletic jersey that showcased impressive arms. The old, baggy sweatpants had been traded for gym
shorts, revealing the legs he used to always keep covered up. They still rested on the metal plates at the bottom of his chair, but his feet no longer twisted awkwardly, like a marionette with too much string. His jaw still flexed tightly, but he spoke with a little less bitterness as well.
I was afraid to get used to it.
He’d built a camaraderie with Matt. He would leave with him early each morning. And, several times now, they’d spent so many hours working together at the boathouse, they’d ended up foraging for dinner together, too.
“Matt’s a good guy, huh?”
“That dude is pretty fucking amazing actually,” he answered with a tone of respect I hadn’t heard from him in a long time. “Some of his stories are incredible. He did two tours in the Middle East. He’s seen some serious shit go down. Did you know he’s going through a divorce now, too? Chick fooled around on him while he was on his last deployment.”
“Wow. No, I had no idea.”
“Yeah, probably good the Yanks hired him to help Brayden. Got him outta dodge while they wait for the ink to dry on the settlement papers. Somehow, she managed to swindle him out of his own freaking house.”
I bit my tongue. The truth about Matt’s employer wasn’t gonna come from me. Nathan was making too much progress, building strength and a new friendship. I wasn’t gonna bust that up.
“I can see why you passed up on the offer to join us. Looks like you had far more exciting plans for the night. You working on becoming one of those hunchback old ladies?”
I sighed and straightened up in the dining room chair. “That’s about all I’m gonna be successful at.”
I’d been sitting here for half the night, poring over the papers now spread in makeshift piles all around me. Yellow Post-it-notes with numbers that no longer made sense were stuck haphazardly to the side of my laptop screen.
