Hale

by K. Webster

  Gritting my teeth, I pick up the razor and toss it into the sink. Aunt Becky steps aside and I storm over to the dresser to hunt for a shirt.

  “I know you two are hurting over your parents and then after what happened with Rylie but…” she trails off.

  I whip around and frown. “But what?”

  “But that can’t happen.”

  “Me helping my sister? Me comforting her? And why the hell not?” I demand, my fury making my entire body tremble.

  She shakes her head at me. “I’m not stupid. Whatever was going on in there was far from innocent. It was written all over both your faces.” Her nostrils flare. She’s disgusted with me.

  “I have a girlfriend. I’m not fucking my sister,” I snarl as I storm over to my bag. No, I just wanted to. “I’m leaving.”

  She lets out a heavy sigh. “That’s probably for the best. Put some space between you two. You’ve spent too much time together.”

  I don’t answer her as I pack a bag.

  I don’t even get to say goodbye to my sister.

  Rylie

  “Rylie,” Aunt Becky says, her voice soft from the doorway. “We need to talk.”

  I watch through the window Hudson’s taillights until they disappear. The moment they’re gone, I feel empty. An ache forms in my chest. I want to call him, but I knew this conversation would happen after she busted us.

  My heart flutters at the still-fresh memory of holding his hot, rigid cock in my hand. I wanted to explore every part of him. Taste every inch. The sickness that simmers below my surface is bubbling more and more each day. Tonight, it splashed over onto Hudson.

  We kissed.

  We touched.

  Tonight was ours.

  “So talk,” I bite out.

  She lets out a heavy sigh and sits on the bed. Despite her wearing her frilly pajamas, she resembles Mom and it makes my heart clench in my chest. When she’s being nice and caring, she’s a lot like my mother. In some ways, it makes me happy. In other ways, it makes me sad. It’s a reminder my mom is no longer here. Neither is Dad. It’s just me and Huds. Until the end.

  “I need you to tell me what happened.”

  I tense and cross my arms over my chest. “He helped me shave my legs.”

  Our eyes meet and hers narrow as she studies me.

  “It was inappropriate,” she clips out.

  “He’s my brother.”

  We have a silent standoff before she softens again.

  “Did he, um, touch you?” Her brows furl together and she swallows.

  “He had to touch me,” I deadpan. “He was shaving my legs.”

  She bristles and straightens her back. “You know what I mean. Did he touch you inappropriately?”

  Nobody has to know.

  “No,” I lie, keeping my features impassive. At least I hope she can’t see through my mask.

  “Good, because you’re still a minor and that could land him in jail, Rylie. Not to mention, there are laws about siblings being together in that way.”

  I glower at her. “In what way?”

  “Sexually. Romantically. You were both practically naked sitting in the dark. I think because emotions are running high since the loss of your parents, that you’re both—”

  “Stop,” I snap. “Don’t go there. You’re being disgusting. I would never do that and neither would Hudson. Do you think we’re sick?”

  Sick. Sick. We’re definitely sick.

  “No, but I just think—”

  “Well, stop thinking,” I choke out. “I won’t have you making Hudson feel bad for trying to comfort me.”

  She rises from the bed and walks over to me. “Okay then. Perhaps I misread the situation. I’m not good at this parenting thing. I only want to protect you as your parents would have.”

  “Who will protect Hudson?” I croak out.

  Me. The answer is me.

  “He’s a grown man now,” she says softly. “He can take care of himself.”

  “Are we done here?” I ask, tears threatening. “I’m tired.”

  She nods and slips out of my room without another word. Once I’m certain she’s gone back to her room, I grab my phone and hide in my closet in the dark. I turn it on and dial my brother. He answers on the first ring.

  “Hey,” he says, his voice gravelly, sending a thrill right down my spine.

  “Hey. Where are you going?”

  He lets out a heavy sigh. “Amy’s, I guess.”

  I wince. “I thought you two broke up.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have,” he whispers. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done a lot of things tonight.”

  My chest aches like someone is taking a bat to it. Pounding. Over and over again.

  “Don’t say that.” A tear races down my cheek.

  “Rylie…” His teeth grind loudly together. “We fucked up.”

  “Nobody has to know.”

  He’s silent for a beat. “It’s illegal.”

  “I’ll be eighteen soon.”

  “No, it’s illegal because we’re brother and sister. We could go to prison for up to four years. I looked it up.”

  I laugh because it’s absurd. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “And we won’t,” he grumbles. “It’s better this way. I’m sorry.”

  “But I liked it…”

  He exhales heavily. “I liked it too. But we can’t. It’s wrong and against the law. We just need some space and things can go back to the way they used to be.”

  “I don’t want things to go back to the way they were,” I say sharply. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Hey,” he murmurs. “I’ll still be here. As your brother. We just can’t…”

  Touch. Kiss. Fuck.

  “Okay.” It’s the answer he wants. The only answer I can give him apparently. But it is not okay. I’ve had a taste of him and I’m poisoned by the thought of more.

  “We’ll still talk and share music,” he assures me. “But…” He sighs. “I’m going to try and make things right with Amy. It has to be this way.” His voice cracks and I want to reach through the phone to hug him. He deserves so much more than Amy. He deserves me.

  “She’s going to be so happy,” I groan, jealousy already eating away at my heart.

  He chuckles. “Yeah.”

  “She’s going to cry.”

  “That’s a given.”

  We both grow quiet.

  “Rylie?”

  “Yeah, Huds?”

  “In another life…I would want it.” He lets out a frustrated huff. “I would find a way to make it happen.”

  Just not this life.

  A sniffle. “Night, Hudson.”

  A sigh. “Night, heathen.”

  I can’t breathe.

  This sickness is slowly suffocating me.

  Second by lonely second.

  His voice on the phone isn’t enough.

  For three days, I’ve spent my spring break curled up in my bed wearing a hoodie Hudson left as I sleep my woes away. In my bed—in the darkness—I’m free to imagine the other life. The life Hudson promised he’d find a way if there were one. In that life, we kiss and touch. In that life, we make love.

  I’ve become obsessed with the idea of him and me.

  Of his naked body pressed against mine, his hard cock rubbing between us. Our lips pressed together. Tongues tasting and tangling. His scent filling my lungs and never leaving.

  I can’t cry anymore.

  I did that for two days. Today, I’m numb. I miss him.

  Hudson: How are you holding up today, heathen?

  The screen blurs as tears well up in my eyes. Apparently I’m not all cried out. Knowing he hates the thumbs-up, I send him that emoji. I get the middle finger emoji back, which makes me laugh. The first laugh in days.

  Me: I miss you.

  He doesn’t reply and the tears silently leak from my eyes, wetting the pillowcase below. The nice thing about spring break is that my aunt and uncle are busy at
work. I’m left alone to wallow in my despair. Nobody forces me to dress or shower or eat. I’m left alone.

  Too alone.

  I drift in and out of sleep, my dreams confusing me and teasing me.

  “Rylie.”

  His voice is so real. I want to hear him say my name over and over again.

  “Rylie.” This time it’s barked out, borderline angrily.

  Turning in bed, I lock eyes with the concerned ones of my brother. Like glowing green orbs in the darkened bedroom.

  “What are you doing? It’s spring break. You should be out doing things,” he mutters, his voice husky.

  I shrug. “We were supposed to spend the break together doing things. Without you, I have no one to do them with.”

  He frowns and sits on the edge of my bed. So close. I could reach out and link my fingers with his. But I don’t. He’s drawn the line in the sand and he wants me to stay on my side.

  In another life…

  This life requires lines.

  This life says we must obey laws.

  He reaches over and grabs my hand. “Rylie.”

  I’m focused on the strength and heat emanating from his grip. The way he holds me in an intimate way despite the line he drew. My heart flutters inside me.

  “Hudson.”

  “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you to a movie or something. You need to get out of bed,” he says, his thumb swiping over the back of my hand. Chills race up my arm from his touch and I shudder. He seems to think I’m cold because he lets go of my hand long enough to curl up beside me on the bed. A strong, warm, heavy arm drapes over my waist. Now that we’re so close, just inches away, I could almost kiss him. The line he drew has already been crossed.

  I reach up to touch his face and he winces. It’s enough to have me jerking it back and balling my hand into a fist.

  “How’s Amy?” I ask coolly.

  He lets out a sigh. “She’s fine.”

  “Back together and happily ever after on the horizon?”

  “Hardly.” He chuckles. “She surprised us both, Ry. Cried, yes, but give in? Nope. She says I have some soul searching to do. That maybe I need to get out there and see other people too. Then, once I’ve had my fill, she’ll be waiting. She said she doesn’t want me to always feel like I never had a chance to date and experience other women.”

  I lift my brows in surprise. “So you’re…”

  “Still seeing each other but also seeing other people.”

  “Like the girl from school?”

  “Jada? I don’t know. I mean, she’s nice, but…” he drifts off.

  But you want me instead?

  I glance up to meet his intense stare. “But what?”

  “But that won’t make me happy.” He frowns. “I’m struggling here.” His palm cups my cheek and he runs his thumb along my cheek. “I know what I want…”

  Me. He wants me.

  “I’m tired,” I whisper tearfully.

  Tired of this fight. Tired of the sadness. Tired of a life where the design wasn’t clean and neat, but messy and fragmented. I’m just tired.

  “I know you are,” he murmurs. He leans forward and kisses my forehead.

  I choke back a sob. My fingers tangle in the front of his T-shirt as I clutch him to me, desperate for the connection with my brother. He doesn’t resist and hugs me the rest of the way to him. With his arm holding me close, I relax for the first time in days. Ugly sobs rip from my chest and he rubs my back as though that might soothe the pain away.

  In another life…

  He rolls onto his back but maneuvers me so I’m half draped over his solid frame. His scent is dizzying me. Masculine and clean. I could inhale him all day long and get high.

  “It’ll be hard sorting through this,” he explains as though he has all of life’s answers. “We can do it together. We’re both stronger than the feelings we’re having.”

  Bitterness creeps up inside me. He may have this life’s answers, but I have the other life’s answers. In the other life, we’re best friends and lovers. We can kiss and fuck. We can marry and have children. We can love in that life like no siblings can love in this life. That life holds the happily ever after I’ll never get to see.

  “I can’t lose you,” I mutter. “I’ll take you however I can get you.”

  He runs his fingers through my tangled hair. “Me too, baby, me too.”

  I cry, but he remains strong. Unbreakable. Solid. My brother, the hero.

  “Let it all out,” he urges. “And then I’m going to fill you back up with popcorn, peanut M&Ms, and whatever action movie that’s playing at the theater.”

  “And an Icee. I want a cherry Icee,” I tell him through my tears.

  “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  Except us.

  He can’t give me us.

  Hudson

  Three weeks later…

  “Coach was pissed,” Nick says when he comes sauntering out of the bathroom of the hotel room we’re sharing, a towel wrapped around his waist.

  I groan and scrub my palm over my face. “I fucked up. Whatever. I’ll do better next weekend.”

  He drops his towel, showing me his hairy ass as he hunts for something to wear in his suitcase. Once he throws on some jeans, he levels me with a serious stare. Nick is hardly ever serious. “I think he’ll bench you.”

  Irritation bubbles up inside me. “Well, he can fucking bench me then.”

  “Or,” he says as he pulls on a T-shirt, “you could get your head out of your ass.”

  Leaving me with those words, he walks back into the bathroom to spend far too much time for a man on his hair. I’ve showered but only dressed in sweats after the game. I’m not going out no matter how much Nick pressures me.

  The game was a fucking nightmare. I couldn’t catch anything that was slung my way and I couldn’t hit worth a shit. All I could think about was her.

  My sister.

  Rylie had texted before the game telling me about how some kids from school invited her to a party. She didn’t want to go, but Aunt Becky of all fucking people urged her to get out of the house and socialize.

  I lean back against the pillows and read her newest text.

  Rylie: Travis is here.

  Jealousy flares as I think about the kid from the downtown block party. I didn’t like the way he looked at her. Like he wanted her. She’s not his.

  She’s mine.

  But she’s not. She can’t be. Having Aunt Becky nearly busting us was enough to scare the shit out of me. I’d lost my head and nearly fucked my sister. My dick twitches at the reminder. Her hand was so soft wrapped around my cock. I still think about her tiny nipple trapped between my teeth when I jack off in the shower. Truth is, I can’t get that night out of my head. I’m trying to be reasonable here and do the right thing. Because we wouldn’t just be social pariahs, we’d be breaking the law.

  Fucking Missouri.

  I dig my laptop out of my bag and pull up the website where I’d learned we could get up to four years in prison for incest. That’s what it is after all. Incest. It’s fucking unfair that aggravated rape only pulls in one more year in prison for a punishment but loving your sister is nearly an equal crime. What Rylie and I want to do is consensual. Safe. Doesn’t harm fucking anyone. According to the website, she’s of legal age of consent anyway. She’s just born with the wrong last name. The same last name. The same damn genetic makeup.

  Clicking on Arkansas, because everyone always makes fun of people fucking their cousins there, I’m irritated to learn the law isn’t much different than ours. I expand my search to Kansas and Mississippi, finding more of the same. Oklahoma seems to have one of the more lenient punishments, but when I click on Montana, I lose my shit.

  “No less than life imprisonment or one hundred goddamned years? Are you kidding me?” I roar as I nearly throw my laptop into the floor in fury.

  Nick rushes from the bathroom and nosily looks at my screen before I can clos
e it. “Incest laws? What the fuck, man?”

  “Research paper for Ritter’s class,” I lie, anger still exploding inside of me. “You can’t marry your cousin or else spend your life in prison but, according to Montana, you only get up to ten years for making child porn. What kind of fucked up world do we live in?”

  He laughs. Fucking laughs. “I don’t know, Hale. Fucking your cousin is some sick shit. Those nasty rednecks need to rot in jail. We don’t need them diluting the gene pool and sending halfwits into the world. There are enough brainless idiots running around this country.”

  I glower at him. “It’s all societal bullshit.”

  “Still fucking disgusting. Ritter’s an asshole for making you guys research this shit. If you need an example, send him a picture of Scottie Brown. That guy looks inbred.” He snorts. “I bet his mom fucked her brother. Nobody is that stupid without some tampering with the gene pool.”

  Despite what Nick says, our team’s second baseman is not stupid. He’s better looking and a better ball player, which means it gets Nick’s jealous panties in a wad.

  “There’s no proof that fucking your brother makes you have dumb kids,” I grit out.

  He shrugs as he walks back into the bathroom again to fuck with his hair some more. “That’s surprising. But it’d sure make you ugly.”

  “How do you figure?”

  He leans out of the bathroom to shoot me a look of disgust. “Any kid who’s born to that shit is gonna get beat up every day of his pathetic life. One too many broken noses because your mommy likes to do her brother will make a kid ugly.” He finishes in the bathroom and stuffs his wallet in his back pocket. “You not coming out tonight? I met a couple of hot chicks in the lobby. Gina and Jillian. I’ll be a good best friend and let you choose your own adventure.” His brows waggle up and down.

  “If I don’t pass this class, Coach will really kick me off the team. I’ll have to catch you next time,” I mutter as I snap my laptop closed.

  He swipes his keycard off the dresser and shakes his head. “Your loss, man. But when I bring them both back to the room, you stay in your bed. I won’t share then.”

  “Got it,” I grumble.

  As soon as he’s gone, I text Rylie.