The Years After (Sister #5)

by Leanne Davis

  Her face was buried against his neck until his breathing finally returned to normal. His hands rubbed her thick mass of hair. She tilted her head up and kissed his cheek. “Was that okay? I obviously—”

  “It was perfect,” he said softly. He gave her a smile that, God help him, seemed shy. How could he be embarrassed when she was the virgin and new to this all?

  “You could have… you know, come in my mouth.”

  His stomach clenched and his dick half hardened at hearing those words from her. “Maybe we could work up to that. Did you like it? I mean, you don’t have to. It doesn’t do much for some girls.”

  She leaned into him as always and rubbed up against him, as if she sought his heat and wanted his arms around her. “It does things for me.”

  He slid his hand between her legs and found her wet. She responded immediately to his touch. He sighed with hatred at himself, but accepted her invite. They spent the rest of the morning exploring each other’s bodies and pleasures while trying to avoid the wet spot on the mattress that was soon joined by another.

  It was evening before hunger finally drove him out of bed with naked Olivia. The longer they were there, the easier and more natural she became when she was naked with him. He never spent a day like it. They kissed and touched and sucked and licked each other for hours on end. There was no actual sex, but by the end of the day, he was too tired to even care. It was hotter than any sex he’d had with anyone besides Olivia. Sweet and shy, then not so shy, and suddenly eager, that was Olivia. He kind of hated himself for stealing that innocence from her. But he also loved to wallow and bask in the radiant love she provided whenever she went near him.

  “I need to eat; my donut left me hours ago.”

  He laughed. She just finished blowing him, and now she was sprawled, and spread-eagled, but totally at ease in his bed, and announcing how hungry she felt. He kept staring at her because he could not believe she was actually there.

  “I guess we could get up for a little while.”

  “And you were the one who resisted bringing me here.”

  “I was not aware it would include things like this.”

  “Well, be aware now.” She slipped on a t-shirt and his socks before shuffling down the stairs and disappearing into the bathroom. He heard the shower go on. He paused from digging for clean clothes in the duffel bags. He threw some dirty garments aside as he realized she was bathing in his shower. No girl had ever showered at his place before.

  He found some clean boxers and a shirt and tugged another pair of jeans on. She was just coming out of the bathroom with his towel from yesterday, the one he discarded on the floor, which she wrapped around her head. She had his sweats and t-shirt on also. She walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist as he leaned her head against his back. She mumbled, “How about we order a pizza?”

  He started to answer when the clang of the door made him freeze. Olivia froze too. She started to say, “Who—”

  But there was no chance to finish her thought before Max ducked into the loft and slammed the door and the locks nearly with the same movement. He turned and stopped dead when he found Derek there with a girl more or less wrapped around him.

  Olivia made a strange sound, almost like a strangled cry. He realized why. Max’s face was bashed in. His eyes were black and his cheek was scraped. His clothes had bloody spots and his fists were bruised and appeared pulverized.

  He almost panicked and pushed Olivia out. Or… Well, shit! He didn’t know what to do with her, or what to say. He finally stepped away from her, but took her hand.

  Max came closer, and his face was completely puzzled as if wondering who the hell she was? Derek never had anyone come there. “Uh, Olivia, this is my brother, Max. Max, this is my girlfriend, Olivia.”

  She dropped his hand and stepped forward, “Oh my God! What happened to you? There’s no time for proper introductions! Jesus, Derek! Call the police!”

  “NO!” Max shouted, just as Derek tried to calm him down.

  She stepped back as her gaze flipped from him to Max. “What? Why? What happened?”

  Max threw his backpack down. He usually carried a pathetic bundle of clothes and some strange trinkets. Max had less than even Derek that he cared about in this world. Derek directed his question to Max. “Fight?”

  Max nodded. Derek pointed to the bathroom. Max disappeared inside. He stared after the closed door. He did not want to turn towards Olivia. He knew she’d leave now. She’d realize the circumstances, the violence of his life, and leave him, as he should have left her so long ago.

  Her hands were on his waist. “What the hell? Why no? He was brutalized, Derek.”

  He leaned his hands on the kitchen counter. “No. He just had a bad day at school. It’s not like where you went to school.”

  “What the fuck?” she screeched at him as she started pacing. He’d never heard her yell or swear at him before. “We’re not from different planets. We both went to public schools. They don’t tolerate kids beating the living shit out of each other. How old is he?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “Eighth grade?”

  “No. Seventh. He’s way behind. Missed a year somewhere.” Derek scratched his head. He should probably have known when his brother missed a year of school.

  “So you acted like you often see him like this. Has this happened before?”

  He rolled his shoulders and finally lifted his gaze to hers. “He does it on purpose.”

  “What do you mean, ‘he does it on purpose?’ What does he do? Ask bullies to hurt him? What?”

  “No. He just arranges fights at school and gets people to bet on them; and then he finds a secluded alley or field and stages a fist fight. It’s like some kind of middle school fight club. He’s a danger to himself and anyone else.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes bugged. “And that’s okay with you?”

  “Well…” Was it? Derek had never considered that or even spent this long talking about it. Max started doing it back in fifth grade and made a decent killing since he usually won. Max was small and very underweight. People thought he was dumb because he never spoke or answered others. People underestimated his power. He was quick, coordinated and scrappy; not to mention, he never gave up or cared about being hit. It was freaky. Derek eschewed pain and all physical confrontations and once spent a night hiding in the foul garbage of an alley dumpster while trying to avoid an encounter with a pissed off druggie. But Max? He’d stand up to anyone and yell, “Come get me!” More often than not, they did. He usually chose bigger kids. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, Max taunted them all.

  “I’m not exactly okay with it. I mean I think it’s a stupid ass thing to do. I would never do it. But I have an aversion to pain. Max seems immune to it. He instigates everything. What can I do? Turn him in? He’s my little brother. He comes here to lay low for a while,” Derek tried to explain.

  Her gaze was pinned on his. “Derek, it’s wrong. On so many levels, I don’t know where to start. How could you not know that? How could you act like that’s normal? It’s not natural that your little brother shows up here with his face all wrecked! What about your mother? Where is she? Why does she let him come home like that? What is wrong with you people?”

  “My mom? Fuck! Olivia, who do you think taught us how to hit?” he yelled back while rising to his feet with his hands in fists at his sides. She stepped back a half step. Her eyes grew weary and she almost appeared scared. He threw his hands up and ran them through his hair. “I’m sorry. I—”

  She instantly stepped forward and wrapped her entire body around him. Her face pressed into his shoulder, and her breath felt warm on his neck as her lips touched the skin above his shirt. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I didn’t know, Derek.” She frantically repeated over and over again. Tears touched his collarbone. Shit! He made her cry. “I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid. I’m so clueless. You’ve hinted at it before and I pretended it was all so simple; like
I didn’t already know there was something sad and terrible about your family.”

  He clutched her, as always, he greedily accepted her comfort and nearly squeezed her breath from her as she held him.

  Max came out of the bathroom and his face was free of blood, at least. He stared at Derek before his gaze landed on Olivia. She stepped back from him and gently wiped the tears from his eyes. “Hi, Max. Can I get you some ice for your eyes?”

  Max scrutinized her warily. The distrust in his expression and the sneer on his mouth made Derek’s stomach churn in disgust. What was wrong with him? “Max,” he said with more authority than he ever used with him before, “Answer Olivia.”

  Max shifted his eyes onto Derek. One eyelid was puffed up and still swelling although it already hid his eyeball, and the other was nearly identical. Yet he dared to chide Max about his manners? No doubt, Max would say fuck off, and storm out of there. Max glanced back at Olivia when she didn’t wait for an answer. She got some ice out of the freezer and wrapped it in a paper towel before telling Max, “Go sit down. Tilt your head back and put this ice pack on it to stop the bleeding inside your nose.”

  Unbelievably, Max obeyed her. He sat on the couch and tilted his head back. Resting the towel under his nose, which still dripped blood incessantly, he adjusted the ice on his swelling forehead and eyes. He kicked his feet out and rested them on the coffee table.

  “How much did you make this time?”

  Max didn’t answer at first. He popped an eye open and glanced at Olivia. “Enough.”

  “Enough to justify your face looking like it went through a meat grinder?”

  “Yup.”

  Olivia was listening to them and evaluating their interaction. She stood back, obviously confused and stunned by the latest information about him. Derek flopped down next to Max. Olivia came over and sat beside him. Touching his hand, her eyes widened as she nodded towards Max as if to say, Advise him, or do something.

  He cleared his throat. “You can’t keep doing this shit.”

  Max shifted the ice pack and stared at Derek as if Derek just morphed into a unicorn right before his eyes. “S-since when you care w-what I do?” His sentence was long and slow as he spoke. He had a speech impediment; and therefore, rarely spoke. He often refused to answer. He stuttered, or tried to speak, yet nothing came out. He’d been flagged at school finally, but nothing ever came of it since his mom refused treatment for him. She thought it was funny. Only it wasn’t. It was abusive torture for Max to speak.

  He flinched and shrugged his shoulders back. How could Max suggest he didn’t care? Holy Christ! He spent half his life dealing drugs just to keep Max on the right path and out of it all. Derek’s life was no more than a shit fest and overly complicated, but his involvement with Quentrell kept Max clean. He glanced over at his little brother, but it didn’t do any good. “I’ve always cared. Why do you think I do the things I do?”

  Max eyed him and shook his head, “Whatever. C-c-can I stay?”

  “Of course, you can always stay.”

  “D-d-didn’t want intrude.” He often got caught up on sounds, and sometimes, left out words altogether. He sounded totally off when he spoke.

  “You’re not. Just quit setting up these fights. It’s not normal. Not for a thirteen-year-old kid. Besides, what happened this time? You got the shit beaten out of you.”

  “Had brass kn-n-nuckles.”

  Derek whistled through his teeth, “No shit? That’s some bad stuff, Max. Who were those guys?”

  Max glanced at Olivia and shook his head. He was finished talking. She most likely figured out he had a severe speech impediment. Max preferred not to talk or answer, and take the punishment for his silence rather than facing the humiliation of his handicap. He never really recovered from all those years he didn’t speak after their dad died. When he eventually resumed a few sounds, they were no more than grunts for “yes,” “no,” or “maybe.” Conversations nearly ceased to exist. Derek had no real clue what Max thought, did, or cared about. Max tried to remain under the radar at all times, except for his paid fighting. For some reason, Max really liked to fight.

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Apparently, he was done. “Pizza?” Derek finally asked after the silence became unbearable. Max nodded his endorsement.

  Derek got up and ordered a pizza before he flipped the TV on. They waited in silence and watched some sports. He practically sensed Olivia’s need to speak to Max and him. She probably wanted to yell at him. And know what the hell was going on. However, she sat there quietly, her hands folded in her lap as she flexed her fingers back and forth and threw pensive glances his way. She was, no doubt, rethinking over everything, especially being there with him, and what they only just did today, including their proclamations of love for each other.

  Pizza, soda pop, and more silence while they ate. Max’s eyes were swollen shut and he shifted his feet to make himself more comfortable. Derek threw him a blanket and left the TV on before taking Olivia’s hand and ascending to the loft. She glanced back, obviously feeling unsure with Max there about what was the right thing to do.

  The bed was destroyed and needed clean sheets. He forgot to buy a second set. He didn’t have anything else but the sleeping bags that were still wadded up in the corner. He retrieved them and spread them out before sitting down. He kept his stuff packed at all times. He never stayed home very long. Always, no matter where he might be, he was ready to run.

  She sat down, somewhat more demure now. Her butt was on the edge of the bed and she folded her legs neatly under her, while clasping her hands tightly and intertwining her fingers. She stared down at her hands, but her hair blocked her facial expression from his view.

  “Is he in speech therapy?” Her voice was nearly muffled to keep Max from hearing.

  “I don’t think so. Never has been. Couldn’t afford it.”

  “It’s available through the school district,” she said nearly sarcastically. Her tone was very soft, and his stomach twisted. She seemed unsure and sad, like she was getting ready to leave him. “How could you not know? How has no one ever helped him? A teacher? Any teacher for God’s sake!” She hissed in a sharp whisper.

  Derek bristled and threw his arms over his chest. “He doesn’t talk to me. Never has. I don’t know anything about him. No one does.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not right, he’s just a kid.”

  “I know,” he said slouching at her tender statement.

  “And you’re telling me your mother really doesn’t care?”

  He sighed as he leaned back against the wall and slid onto the floor, his knees poking up. Resting his head back against the building, he was staring up so he didn’t have to see the horror and confusion in her eyes, a reflection of who and what he was.

  “She really doesn’t care.”

  “Start there, Derek. Tell me about a mother who doesn’t care that her child can’t speak and won’t speak, and shows up here all beaten up by brass knuckles.”

  He leaned his head forward and buried his face on his knees. Fuck! This was impossible. “She’s not a mother. And it’s not like what you mean, I guess; I don’t even know what you mean. She’s a drug addict. I know, a typical excuse. But have you ever lived with one? No? Well it’s like living with emotional terrorism for your entire life. She will do just about anything to get her next fix. Anything. Use your imagination and you can guess exactly what. From prostitution to stealing, she’s done it all. So, as one might expect, the day-to-day duties of mothering don’t exactly ever enter her consciousness or schedule.”

  Olivia’s gaze was heavy with feeling. He couldn’t gauge what it signified. “How long has she been like that?”

  “Ever since I can remember. But when I was little, she was younger, and seemed healthier back then. She was a little nicer and took better care of us. There’s not much left to her now. I expect to hear she OD’d at some point.”

  He heard her move, but didn’t look u
p. He couldn’t bear to see her walking down the stairs and out of his life. To his surprise, he felt a hand on his shoulder. She knelt down and turned to sit as she leaned against the wall next to him. “You left to get away from that?”

  “I left to protect Max. My not being there seems to improve things for him.”

  Half of Derek’s entire existence was in order to keep Max away from everything and everyone that his life dealt with. The less Max associated with him, the better for Max. But telling Olivia all this only fast forwarded to the time when she’d find out exactly what he was.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and wrapped both her hands around his arm. She didn’t say anything for a long, poignant time. He could feel her breathing. He kept his head down and barely acknowledged she was still there. Finally, she said, “Your childhood was governed by pain and fear.”

  He drew in a sharp breath and barely shook his head.

  “You don’t want to share anymore with me, do you?”

  He started to spring to his feet, but she leaned down on his shoulder and held on. “Don’t run. Don’t shut down on me. Just sit here. Now, with me.”

  He flexed his fists, trying to calm his racing heart and thoughts. Finally, he let his body relax into the position he was formerly in. “There’s a lot you should know.”

  “I’m glad to finally meet your brother.”

  He shut his eyes as his lungs expelled the breath he was holding. The nastiness of his life was something he needed to tell her, but he couldn’t do it yet. She gave him her heart, her care, her understanding, and now she let him have his silence. He turned and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t think you should be involved with me.”

  She tilted her head up and her eyes were wet. “Too late, I already am involved. Besides, if you found out I was hurt as a child, would you run out on me?”

  He tensed. “Of course not.”

  “Then, why should I? I care. I don’t like that you were hurt, or that Max is hurt. Or that it still haunts you. I still want to be with you.”

  “I can’t talk about it.” It was so much more than “can’t.” He knew how to tell her, but couldn’t for fear of Olivia’s safety from Quentrell.