Broken (Broken #1)

by A. E. Murphy

  He’s also being rude, “Thank you Mrs Harris, I’d love to come. If it’s all the same I’ll take his car, just in case I feel the need to leave before you do. I tire easily.”

  She smiles widely and nods eagerly, “Just Paula dear. Such good manners for such a young woman. I’ll leave you both to your afternoon.”

  “Have a nice day,” Nathan’s farewell is as snide as his hello was.

  “Don’t worry about the dish dear, bring it back when you’re done,” she calls over her shoulder.

  I don’t get to wave as Nathan has closed the door.

  Lasagne.

  I follow him into the kitchen and watch as goes to tip the contents of the dish into the bin. “NO!” I scream like my life depends on it and grab the plate. “My lasagne.”

  He blinks in shock, “You’re not eating this. You don’t know what she’s put in it, what meat she’s used.”

  “So?” I retort and tug on the dish.

  “Fine!” he snaps and let’s go. Unfortunately due to the extra hundred pounds in my stomach I fall backwards.

  Quick hands snag my wrists to stop my descent, but in doing so the lasagne dish tips and smashes against his front.

  “Oops,” I say and slowly step back assessing the damage. “I am so, so sorry.”

  He stares down at the mess on his chest and abdomen. The red juice clings to him as the small clumps of minced meat slide to the floor with the pasta sheets. He looks pale. Extremely pale.

  “Are you okay?” I ask and take a step towards him. His hands are trembling.

  He shakes his head. “Germs.”

  Oh right, the germ thing.

  “Nathan,” I say softly. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Nothing,” he takes a step and dry heaves, his entire body bending over with it. Holy shit. “I can feel it on my skin.”

  “Okay, okay, just stand there,” I grab a cloth from the cupboard under the sink and soak it with warm water from the tap.

  I see sweat bead on his brow as he stands perfectly still waiting for me to help him, his eyes are lowered and his lips pinched together. Shit. This is a real condition. I should have Googled it but I don’t have anything to Google it on. Maybe he has books on it that I can study. It seems like something I need to learn about if I’m going to be staying under the same roof as him.

  “I’m going to take these off,” I say cautiously and start undoing the buttons on his jacket. He doesn’t move an inch as I slide it from his shoulders and place it on the side. “You know?” I try to make him feel better as I slowly and carefully untuck his shirt from his trousers. “I have a horrible phobia of rats. It doesn’t seem much compared to this but it’s a deep one. It comes from when I was little,” I slowly start unbuttoning his shirt from the top, revealing a light spray of dark hair over his sternum. “My mum took me on holiday to my grandpa’s dairy farm and we all got to camp outside for the night. It was brilliant at first.” I slowly undo the last two buttons and step behind him so I can peel it from his body without getting the sauce anywhere else. “While I was sleeping I felt something running across my legs.”

  “What happened?” Finally he speaks. Relief.

  “Wait there,” I say and walk over to the sink and warm the cloth once more, all the while still talking. “Well, I woke up obviously but I couldn’t see anything. It was dark and I was on my own. My mum was in the tent next to mine with her boyfriend, at the time.” Swiping the wet cloth across his front I take my time, I’m not sure why I do it so slowly, maybe because it’s close. I’m close to somebody. And his torso is delectable, it’s golden and smooth and powerful. Every dip and groove is muscled perfection. He shudders as I sweep it over his pebbled nipples so I move away from that area. “All I could see were these two red eyes in the dark moving around my tent. I screamed and screamed. Eventually my mom came, her boyfriend killed the rat and she made me stay in my tent. I was petrified, I was five and I didn’t know what a rat was.” I look at his clean chest and go to pull my hand away.

  In a quick move his gloved hand presses it back to his abdomen, his fingers clasping my wrist rather than my hand itself, “Don’t stop.” His eyes come to mine. “I can still feel it.”

  I nod and continue slowly wiping at his smooth skin, watching as the dark trail leading from his naval to places unknown, shines with droplets of water. “I don’t think I’d have been as affected as I was if she hadn’t made me stay in there, you know?”

  He nods, “Was she a good mother?”

  “As good as she could be. She was good to me but she was also selfish. She helped me pay for University as much as she could, she just wanted me to have a good life but didn’t know how to do that. She wanted herself to have a good life and forgot about me whilst getting that sometimes,” I say, running the cloth over the rim of his trousers, being extra careful not to touch where I shouldn’t.

  His throat bobs as he gulps, his body no longer trembling. “Thank you.”

  “Better?”

  He nods and I slowly remove my hand before throwing the cloth in the sink.

  “I’m going to have a shower… could you?” He motions to the ground where the lasagne has splattered. “If it’s too much, leave it and I’ll deal with it.”

  “I’ll do it, you go,” I reassure him, my eyes lowered again and allow him to pass. Once he’s left the room I squat and clean. It’s not easy, it’s not comfortable but it takes my mind off what just happened.

  What did just happen?

  Chapter Nine

  Nathan didn’t come out of his room again last night, I don’t mind, he’s probably embarrassed even though he shouldn’t be. Maybe it’s after what I did with the cloth, I shouldn’t have been so… sensual and slow about it. Maybe he read into it wrong, I was just trying to comfort him but I can see why he’d think I wasn’t.

  Nah, I’m being ridiculous. He didn’t read into it at all, I’m the one reading into it too much.

  Unfortunately due to the heavy rain and strong winds Paula reschedules our lunch date for Friday. This is aggravating, meaning the weather, but also a relief. I’m not ready to socialise with the outside world yet. As ridiculous as that sounds.

  It hurts me to see other people happy.

  Maybe I should see a therapist.

  No. I need to just keep myself busy to keep my mind off it.

  Stupid knots in my stupid hair. Comb through damn you.

  There’s a knock at my door. “Come in,” I call, still trying to get the tangles out of my hair.

  Nathan steps inside, “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you.” He begins, I look at him through the mirror. “That anything that happens between us, anything you see that relates to me, is confidential.” Anything that happens between us? This could be read into wrong so I choose to read into it in the safest possible way and assume he’s referring to conversations and other daily things.

  “Duh,” I roll my eyes and place the brush handle in my mouth as I use both hands to pull my thick hair atop of my head.

  “That’s disgusting, you’ve…” he clears his throat and looks away for a moment.

  I quickly drop the brush from between my teeth, it lands softly on my thighs. “Better?”

  “Yes,” he takes another step into the room and his brow quirks. “You’re very tidy.”

  “Always have been. I like everything to have its place.”

  “OCD?” He asks politely.

  I shake my head, “No, I’m just organised. How are you feeling?”

  He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, his face becoming a hard mask. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention yesterday.”

  “Of course,” I stand and make my way back to my not even nearly finished jigsaw puzzle. Crossing my legs, I sit on a scatter cushion and finger the pieces until one jumps out at me.

  He’s still here. Why’s he still here?

  “I’m serious, if I hear whispers of it pass over even Jeanine’s lips I won’t be happy,” he snaps, shocking m
e.

  I blink up at him, “I won’t say a word.”

  “Make sure you don’t.”

  His eyes burn into mine for a moment longer, imploring me to soak up his words, before he turns on his heel and leaves my room.

  I can’t believe how… cold he can be at times. I get that what happened isn’t something he wants to talk about but can’t he at least speak to me with a little more respect? I feel like a naughty child.

  He’s so… back and forth with his demeanour towards me. I can’t tell if he hates me being here or not. If I’m such a burden why not just rent me a place? From what I can tell he has enough money to house me somewhere else, at least then he wouldn’t have to deal with me on a daily basis. None of this makes sense.

  Or maybe I’m just overanalysing it like I do everything.

  Sitting back on the floor I continue on with the jigsaw. It’s boring to say the least but there’s nothing more to do around here. My eyes linger on the bed where I long to just curl up and forget everything in a world of darkness. It takes everything I have to stand and leave the room. The baby gives me a few kicks and I’m assuming it’s because he or she is grateful that I’ve chosen to be more active.

  I can’t go outside the rain and the wind is too strong. It looks tempting though. To just run through the winds and the heavy droplets of water that fall from the sky. Imagine how freeing it would feel.

  “I’m bored,” I say to my bump as I descend the stairs. “I can only imagine how you feel.”

  The room is dark due to the thick grey clouds covering the sun and the shadow from the nearby trees casting over the bay window. I blow out a frustrated breath and switch on the TV, it’s new and so is the equipment beneath it but there’s nothing on. DVD’s are nowhere to be found either so I can’t even watch a movie.

  I call Sasha but she doesn’t answer, neither does Tommy. I’ll try again later.

  After twiddling my thumbs for all of twenty minutes I enter the kitchen and decide to have a snack. I’m not feeling too hungry after a lonely breakfast this morning but I should eat, so I do.

  At the table I sit with a persimmon fruit between my hands, I use a plate to catch the sticky juice and cringe when it begins to dry on my fingers. This is the highlight of my next hour. Eating fruit and washing my hands. I don’t remember ever being this lonely or bored at home, but that’s probably because I always knew Caleb would be home soon and I wasn’t forever trying to keep my mind busy.

  A crackling noise shakes the house making my hands automatically grip the worktop for support. The cracking noise is soon followed by a deep rumbling. It’s a good thing I’m not scared of thunder and lightning or this would be awkward.

  Although I’m not sure how I feel about all of the lights flickering off. I can still see, it’s not dark but it’s still eerie and I’m now completely convinced there’s some kind of ghost breathing down my neck.

  I scramble off the stool, not daring to look behind me for fear of seeing something there that I’ve imagined in my strange mind. My footsteps hammer the stairs as my heart hammers in my chest. I just need to get back to bed and everything will be fine.

  Crack! The hall lights up casting strange shadows along the walls. I’m too frantic to try and rationalise it.

  Feeling like a child I race into my room, dive onto the bed and pull the blanket over my head. All the while my mind chants, “It’s not real, it’s not real.”

  The rumbling follows, it’s louder and more ominous than before and it’s freaking me the hell out.

  The rain seems to get heavier and the wind more powerful. Shaking hands clutch the blanket tight to me. I curl my body into a ball, not daring to even poke a toe out from beneath the covers.

  My ears pick up footsteps above, that’s Nathan, that’s got to be Nathan. But if that’s Nathan then what just opened the door to my room?

  Oh my god. Ghosts are real. I think I’m going to cry.

  The blanket is whipped from over my head, I scream.

  “Guinevere!” Nathan shouts and seizes my flailing by gripping my wrists.

  “Huh?” I blink open my eyes and look up at the shadowed male who looks like Caleb. Seeking comfort I latch onto him, my arms around his waist and my head squished to his chest.

  “You’re trembling,” he says not returning the hug but I refuse to let go right now.

  “If you’re down here then who’s upstairs?” I whisper when I hear more footsteps from above.

  His hand rests on the top of my head as his other unwinds my arms from around him. I peek up at him through my lashes. “I have company.”

  “Company?”

  “Yes,” he responds and peels himself away from me. “What happened?”

  “You didn’t see the power cut out?” How could he not have noticed that?

  “I was occupied,” he states and I see a female step into the bedroom. A very pretty female with thick golden hair and no clothes. Why’s she walking in just a robe?

  “Oh,” why is he fully dressed when she isn’t? Why is it any of my business? “Sorry.” I scoot back on the bed, looking between him and the female.

  “I told you to wait upstairs,” he snaps at the girl who immediately lowers her eyes.

  “I heard her scream, I got worried and thought you might need help.” She murmurs and takes a step backwards.

  I glance between her and Nathan’s burning eyes aimed at her. He doesn’t look happy and her excuse seems legitimate so I’m not sure if she warrants his anger.

  Nathan’s eyes come to me as if waiting for me to react in some way.

  “Thanks but I’m fine,” I explain to the female who can’t be more than five years older than myself. “That was kind of you though. I’m not a fan of the dark.”

  “Yeah, this house is pretty creepy when it’s dark,” she giggles but immediately stops when Nathan glares at her again. “I should go,” she whispers and gives me a small smile.

  “Yes. I believe you should,” Nathan bites out and her face falls.

  “Tomorrow?” She looks confused and a little bit hurt.

  “I’ll call you. Escort yourself out, I have to see to the fuse box.” Nathan’s tone is stern and unyielding. I want to slap him for her.

  Shockingly she says nothing, she only scarpers away with her metaphorical tail between her legs.

  “Do you have to be so mean?” I snap at my kind of brother in law. His eyes come to me, he only looks bored. “She was only trying to help.”

  “She was trying to be nosy when she had no right to be.” He takes my arm in his hand and leads me out of the room, back into the creepy landing.

  “I don’t want to go back downstairs.”

  “Tough, I need you to hold the torch while I check the box.”

  “Can’t blondie do it? She was eager to help.”

  “No.”

  “But…”

  “I’m not leaving you on your own for another second. I don’t trust you not to start making that awful noise again.”

  “Noise? You mean my screaming? You ripped the blanket off my head! I thought you were upstairs!” I defend myself but he doesn’t care.

  “You were screaming before then Guinevere, what do you think made me come downstairs in the first place?”

  I stop in my tracks, “I wasn’t screaming.”

  “Yes you were.”

  “No I wasn’t.” I know with one hundred percent certainty that I wasn’t screaming, why’s he lying? “And I didn’t hear any screaming from anywhere else. Maybe it was blondie.”

  “Her name is Lorna and yes you’re right, maybe it was.” Ewww. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s referring to. Even though I referred to it first, it’s only natural that I feel grossed out by his confirmation.

  “Nobody was screaming,” I return to my previous argument as he leads me into the kitchen and searches under the sink for something. “Why did you come downstairs?”

  He doesn’t respond, he does however, find a large tor
ch. “Come.”

  “Oh no. No way… no… not a chance,” I back away from the door leading to the basement. “This is exactly what they do in horror movies.”

  “The basement isn’t like basements in horror movies. It’s a gym. Come on,” he sighs and guides me towards the narrow steps. I inhale a deep breath and allow him to lead me down the staircase. The torch lights the way well enough but I’m still freaking out.

  He’s right, this basement isn’t creepy like horror films, it holds a treadmill, some weights and a load of other work out equipment that I don’t know the name off. I follow close behind Nathan, my hand on his shoulder as he guides me to the far corner.

  “Hold this,” he says and hands me the torch. I shine it on the box as he opens it and watch him flick a few switches. After a moment he sighs and takes a step back. “It’s a local power cut. We’ll just have to wait it out.”

  “Can’t we go somewhere else?” I plead, handing him back the torch.

  Another loud crack lights up the sky followed by the hideous rumbling.

  In the glow from the torch I see him run his tongue over his lower lip, he seems to relent, “Fine. Come on.”

  We rush up the stairs and quickly pull on our coats. He holds an umbrella up before taking me out into the harsh rain and helps me into his car. I rub my hands together in front of the heater as soon as he turns the key in the ignition, grateful he has a decent car that takes only seconds to heat up rather than the fifteen minutes it took in Caleb’s.

  “Movie or food?” He asks and carefully reverses before setting the car straight and heading down the narrow drive.

  “Movie?” I ask and another thought comes to mind. “Where’s blondie?”

  “Her car has gone. She left while we were in the basement.”

  “Oh. You were mean to her.”

  His face gets tight and his eyes narrow, “It’s none of your business. Don’t try and make it so.”

  “Sorry,” I mumble because he’s right. Still it doesn’t feel great knowing how rude he was and not being able to say anything about it.