The Years After (Sister #5)

by Leanne Davis

  “You already started telling me. Maybe it’ll just take more time. And trust. And love.” Love. He’d never had anyone love him. The love he and Max shared was some kind of skewed attachment as brothers, but there was never an adult as far as Derek remembered that loved him. A few months ago, he’d have scoffed at that revelation. Before, he knew with as much certainty as his own name, that love did not exist. However, the feelings he experienced with this girl next to him often lodged in his throat and felt like they could suffocate him. They swirled around his heart, and hurt his chest, but also felt so good. Derek never even had two good days in a row for as long as he could remember.

  “What if I can’t?”

  She turned fully toward him and tucked her knees beneath her so she could rise slightly higher. Leaning towards him, she cupped his face in her hands and touched her lips to his. “You can. Just not today.”

  He couldn’t ever. He could never tell her who and what he was. He could never tell her the real reason he did not have a father. Or what he did on the nights when he left her dorm. None of the things he saw, or experienced, or the people he called his friends could ever be revealed to her. For her own safety. He imagined how she’d look at him with visible disdain and disgust, as he rightfully deserved. He knew he would not see the love that shone from her blue eyes at that moment. Love that was so pure and innocent, and every bit as good as Olivia was inside. A light that illuminated her from within made Derek wish the dark, dirty things of his life would just disappear so he could move closer towards her light. He wanted all of it to disappear. He wished he were the freshman guy she first thought he was, attending her school after leaving a normal, typical household and high school. If he had only one wish to be granted in his life, it would have been that. To deserve Olivia’s love and the goodness that she embodied.

  He was not any of those things. His hands were dirty and he was guilty of terrible things. He was an outlaw on a daily basis, between the drugs he sold, the people he worked for, and the harm incurred by those he sold it to. The money he earned for Quentrell bought guns that were used to terrorize people. Sin, murder, corruption and violence were all on Derek’s hands, and he dared to use those same hands to touch her face. He dared to clasp her hands in his. He let them drop when their lips met and the kiss they shared was long and deep. It seemed to touch every dark, miserable place in his soul.

  After a life of being selfish and scraping by to survive, he was more or less bought, and owned now by Quentrell. He’d never get out of his indentured servitude, and for too many reasons to count. He’d lose Olivia eventually, one way or another. She’d either find out, or he’d finally grow a heart and have to tell her himself. Either way, it had to happen. Despite knowing that, he stood up with her hands in his and pulled her to his bed. He wrapped her legs and arms around him, pretending for just a little while, that something good had crossed his path for a reason, even if he didn’t deserve it.

  Chapter Ten

  MAX WAS SUCH A sad sight. Olivia spent all of the following day with him. She only wanted to coddle and minister to the unfortunate teen. Derek wasn’t kidding when he said Max didn’t talk. As much as she heard him speak the previous night was almost a miracle. He didn’t answer her questions, and didn’t explain or elaborate his one-word, cryptic comments. He did however, hang around at Derek’s a lot. They watched movies, and Max and Derek played video games. That was about as normal as Max ever got, when he was playing video games against Derek. She almost saw glimpses of the happy teenage boy he should have been. Instead of a silent, almost invisible presence. His pummeled face swelled up and grew very discolored, although Max didn’t act as if it were a big thing at all. Max was even polite to Olivia. Derek confided to her as he drove her back to the dorm, that Max’s respect toward her was almost unheard of.

  As she watched Derek pulling away into the night, her heart clenched with physical pain. Max. Derek. Drugs. Their mother. She hated to judge people, but any mother who neglected to address her son’s obviously severe speech impediment pretty much illustrated what kind of person she must have been. Olivia turned and headed into the dorm room before dropping defeatedly onto her bed. Sadness filled her chest, although she only had an inkling of the strange relationship between Max and Derek. How does a thirteen-year-old boy run his own version of a fight club? Olivia didn’t know what to think or do about that. It was the oddest thing she’d ever heard of. Her mother, however, dealt with those kinds of problems for a living. Olivia had some exposure to the plethora of problems out there: speech barriers, learning disabilities, abuse, neglect, hunger. Olivia also had a pretty good idea of the various kinds of help that were now available. Most typical, caring parents would have tried to solve their children’s problem, especially if it made their children untypical. Most mothers would have been out on the streets, if necessary, just to earn enough money to fix their kids, if that was their only option.

  Unless, of course, they were working the streets for their next fix. Use your imagination. Derek’s words haunted her. Her stomach hurt and the sadness she felt could not be shaken. She didn’t know it was quite that bad. Where did his father’s murder fall in the timeline? How was that dealt with inside their family unit? Was that what caused his mother to turn to drugs? All because of his dad’s murder?

  Olivia rolled on her back and stared up at the ceiling. Another student had glued a bunch of those glow-in-the-dark constellation stars on it. What did Derek have to endure? Who hit him? Who hurt him? Who abused him? Did his stomach go empty while his mother got high? Were things any better when his dad was alive? She wanted, no, she needed those answers, but after witnessing how he nearly became undone while trying to articulate any response, she decided to stop. Derek couldn’t handle it. She’d never seen anyone as anxiety-ridden when speaking about his past as Derek.

  She was naive and sheltered, but certainly not stupid. The images of Max and Derek Salazar’s pitiful childhood were slowly attaining more clarity. Emotional scars on a kid’s soul usually ran deep; and she guessed they were only just starting to be revealed.

  She should have been lying blissfully in her college dorm room, unable to sleep because, for the first time in her life, she was sure she was in love, and the guy loved her back. She should have been reliving all the vivid details of what they’d experienced in Derek’s bed. But instead, her insomnia for the rest of the night came from her images of little, dark-haired boys, neglected and silent with no love offered by anyone. They were not even sure how to love each other.

  ****

  He dropped Olivia off and spent a few hours working. There were several parties Quentrell wanted covered. Derek hit them, in and out, with a swiftness that had people almost chasing after him. On this end of town, he could be pretty brazen in his deals. However, the ones closer to campus were the ones he always had to be more careful about. You never knew when a scared-shitless student, who was only experimenting, might return to consciousness and decide to turn him in.

  Now, it was the middle of the night, so he was naturally shocked to find Max still at his place when he entered the apartment. He sat down and picked up the controller to join the game that was already in progress, and had been for the last ten hours or so.

  He felt Max’s gaze on him, but knew that Max would never ask, so he glanced over. “What?”

  “Girlfriend? You?”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “She’s not a skank.”

  He laughed. Max’s resounding endorsement! “No, the complete opposite of skank. We’re the skanks; you see that, right? And when she finally does, that’s when my ass gets handed to me.”

  Max’s gaze returned to the TV. For several minutes, he didn’t say anything before asking, “D-does sh-she know?”

  “Nothing. She knows nothing; and I’m a complete asshole for getting involved with her.”

  “Quentrell know about her?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “K-Keep it th-that way.”
/>
  “I want to.”

  Max nodded and turned back to the TV. Max knew how life worked, and had no doubt that Derek was right. It was same story for both of them.

  ****

  As was natural after that day in bed, things progressed further with Olivia and Derek, and soon their hands and mouths became sources of pleasure. They tried to please each other as often as possible. Since they couldn’t always be alone in her dorm, they took advantage of their cars and parked in dark, isolated spots, where she was only allowed to go because of him escorting her. They discovered erogenous zones as they explored each other’s bodies; and she learned quite quickly what she liked to do and what she liked Derek to do.

  She ran into Max a handful of times, but then again, she only went to Derek’s a handful of times. She usually managed to convince Derek to take her there when she pushed him that they really needed to be alone. One such time, Max came in again with bloodied lips, two black eyes, and raw knuckles. Derek lectured him mercilessly and cussed him out while Olivia gently went over to provide some comfort. He was sitting with his head between knees and kind of rocking back and forth, obviously in pain. But no whimpers or complaints were uttered. She touched his shoulder and he reacted by suddenly pushing out and knocking her hands away. She lost her balance and fell back on her ass. She was merely intending to offer him a wet towel to clean up, as well as some ice for whatever hurt.

  “Jesus Christ, Max!” Derek said angrily. He hurried across the room and took Olivia’s arm to gently help her up, but she pushed him away.

  “I’m fine, Derek. He was just startled.”

  Max did look rather contrite as he watched them. He seemed poised to leave, but Olivia didn’t want that so she quickly held out the towel. “Here, clean your face up.”

  He reached out and eventually took it, but only after a way too long moment, during which he visibly contemplated her. These two lost souls, she thought. They were so afraid of everyone and distrustful, she felt like throwing her hands up and crying, she wasn’t sure which. They were so tragic, not only with each other, but also by themselves.

  “S-s-sorry.”

  Derek ran his hands through his hair as he shook his head and nearly growled, “Max doesn’t like to be touched.”

  “Just beaten up then? Because your opponent usually has to be touching you when his fists make contact with your body, doesn’t he?”

  Max lifted his head and a small smile appeared. Derek smiled too as he replied, “Good point. He just doesn’t like to be grabbed, or soothed, or coddled, or whatever.”

  She smiled, but it took as much effort as she could muster. Like that was the standard, normal thing for someone to tell you, or warn you. “Sure, of course. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  They were so sad. Both of them. Together. Apart. Yet, she doubted they realized how much so.

  ****

  It was nearing the end of November, and swiftly hastening towards Thanksgiving break, so she decided it was time for Derek Salazar to meet her family.

  “I have a concert tomorrow night at school. Will you come?”

  They were having coffee on campus at a little café where she’d been trying to get caught up on her research for her half finished term paper. The subject she chose was the correlation of music education with the increased ability of young children to learn basic reading and math skills.

  “’Course I’ll come.”

  “My parents are coming too.”

  His whole expression changed, going from easy and nonchalant, casually splayed all over the chair, to straightening up. An odd, kind of mean look that rarely appeared on his face suddenly flashed before it was replaced by a forced smile. “Really? Do we really need to do that?”

  Her eyes grew fuzzy as she stared intently at her textbook. His curt answer had her eyes burning instantly. How did he not think it was important to meet her family? “They’re very important to me, Derek. I lived with them until three months ago. I miss them like crazy.”

  He sat up straighter and reached over the table to take her hand. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll meet them.”

  “Perhaps you could lose that look as if I just informed you I was pregnant and you’re the father.”

  His smile was slow as his eyes gleamed. “I already know that isn’t any threat…”

  She shook her head. “Well, try not to look like I just relayed the worse news of your week.”

  “If you really think we should.”

  “I do think we should. I think you need to meet them. I’ve told them a lot about you. They naturally want to meet you.”

  “Naturally,” he grumbled. Turning his head, he scanned the crowd, which pretty much ended the conversation. She knew their polarized views on the importance of family could eventually become a huge problem.

  He was so nice to her most of the time, and listened to her talk while caressing her with affection and care. He patiently waited for her to finish her homework, or practice the flute and sometimes took her out. He made her laugh all the time. He was funny, sweet and considerate as a boyfriend, and never even once tried to coax her to physically venture further than she allowed him.

  Other times, he withdrew from her so completely, it was like an invisible wall slammed down between them. She observed his love, trust, and care for her evaporating right before her eyes. The cocky, swaggering jerk who first lied to her would then reenter Derek’s body. Yeah, it happened. Yeah, it really did, and more than once. It was happening even now.

  She slammed her book shut. “Tomorrow night. Seven-thirty. Meet me in my dorm.”

  His head swiveled toward her at hearing her abrupt announcement. “Where are you going?”

  “Away from you. Go pout or whatever you like, but please leave it at home tomorrow.”

  He watched her gathering her books before finally jumping onto his feet. He went around the table to try and pull her against him. She sidestepped him and shook her head. He finally sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

  “You pull away from me like I know nothing about you. Don’t do that. Let’s just call it a day.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Her stomach knotted when she tried to imagine what “being there” might look like.

  ****

  Parents. He’d never met anyone’s parents before. Not even his friends’ parents as a teen. Shit! Did he even know anyone who had them? If so, they never crossed paths with Derek. Now, he had to endure an entire dinner with a couple of parents? His girlfriend’s parents? His girlfriend adored her parents in a strange, unique manner that Derek couldn’t conceive of. He didn’t even know what it meant to have a girlfriend, especially since all he ever did was lie to her. Countless times, she called or texted him with an innocuous, “What are you doing?” “Where are you?” or “Are you working?” and he lied to her in his replies. Lying to Derek came as easily and quick as the notes Olivia played on her flute. It was seamless, convincing and easy. He knew that’s what would devastate her the most when she finally figured him out. Trying to keep her away from the rest of his life was something he did easily, and without guilt. Lying never tore him to pieces.

  Before leaving his warehouse apartment, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His clothes were new. He never wore anything like these clothes before because he never went anywhere nice enough to need them. He dragged a comb through his hair and the dark strands sprang forward. Leaning on the sink, a second wave of guilt weighed down on him. The burden of his lies and cheating was gradually eroding his sense of being. Especially when he thought how much he would ultimately hurt the only person he ever loved. And there he went again. Staring at the few stray hairs still clinging to the scratched-up sink, he had to resist the urge to text Olivia he wasn’t coming. He should end it here and now. How could he survive tonight? Why would he willingly do it? Meeting a pair of parents he would never see again after this. How many more months could he keep up his facade? Not much longer. The
incessant demands of trying to pursue a double life was finally starting to bother him. And more importantly, he was tired of lying to Olivia.

  There was so much riding on her parents’ impression of him. Her abrupt departure yesterday fully hammered home that point. He got moody whenever the shittiness of what he was doing to her reared its ugly head. Then he detested himself and grew silent, refusing to seek the comfort of Olivia’s funny, little smiles, or the soft way she touched his face, or his hands, or how she kissed him… There were myriad methods she used to make his miserable, two-timing life somewhat better, and that’s why he couldn’t ever totally stop caring about her.

  When he got into those foul moods, she usually let him alone. Whether he was quiet, or curt, or just ignoring her, she patiently waited until he worked himself out of it. Until yesterday, they had never parted company without kissing each other goodbye, and endlessly.

  He let his fingers relax, and dropped the phone back into his pocket. He was not calling to cancel tonight. Even if all it did was lead him deeper and faster into hell.

  He pulled into her dorm parking lot and walked through the door. Several girls giggled as they waved their hellos. Kylie was leaving with a group and yelled hello to him too. He was distracted and nervous when he finally knocked on Olivia’s door. He never remembered his hands sweating as badly as they were now, or his mind forgetting anything rational and normal to say.

  She opened the door, and was wearing her formal, long, black skirt and a crisp, white blouse that she always wore to her concerts. Her hair was spread out over her shoulders and chest in a long straight fan of black, and the deep bangs framed her face, and even made her sweet smile and eyes seem bigger and more luminous, if that were possible.

  She didn’t leap against his chest or display her usual exuberance when she greeted him as if they hadn’t seen each other in months, instead of the mere hours it usually was. They nearly lived in each other’s back pockets, or as much as his lousy, shady dealings allowed them to. He didn’t sleep much, since he could only catch up on it while she was attending her classes.