“Babe?” His hand came up to cup my breast tweaking it, and that one tug sent shivers down to my girl bits that reminded me I was a dam about to burst.
“I have to pee!” I exclaimed before bursting from his arms and running to the bathroom. When I emerged, Deklan was lying on his back, arm flung across his face.
“Is it bad?” I questioned, tentatively walking over to the bed. I had never been drunk before let alone plastered, but I heard it feel like someone put your head through a blender and pushed puree times a thousand. A part of me wanted him to forget last night, to forget my mini breakdown and subsequent freak out but not forget the connection we shared. I didn’t want him to forget how he held me, how I clung to him, me loving him.
“I’ll let you know once my head stops spinning.” He groaned, and I instantly felt bad because here I wanted to pick and choose his memories and he was hurting. Granted, he’d done it to himself, speaking of which…
“Why?” I started getting dressed. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but I knew that I needed to get this show on the road with the cops and all.
“Because I drank a fucking boatload last night,” he replied warily.
“No, not that. Why did you drink a boatload? Why didn’t you call me, or come home, or something?” I hadn’t really intended to give him the third degree but something in me was tired of not knowing shit.
“I really don’t want to do this right now, Harley.” He rolled over to grab his discarded jeans and slipped them on. That just pissed me off even more, so much so I couldn’t fully appreciate his ass, which was magical. He didn’t want to do this? I didn't even want to be here, let alone wonder if it was something I did that caused him to drink.
Did I call him too much? Was he tired of me whining and complaining? I knew if I voiced these questions, he’d get angry, but that didn’t make them any less legit questions I longed to know. The thing is, I’m going to always question, wonder, and have doubt because him loving me is so unbelievable. No one loves me.
“Fine,” I said simply, looking for my shoes. He obviously needed time, and I could go to the police station with Ember.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He eyed me cautiously. He was hungover, not stupid.
“Going to talk to the police, and then going to see if I can get my mother cremated then coming back here so I can pack and leave.” I couldn’t find my shoe, and I wanted to laugh at the familiarity of this: me looking for my shoe, pissed at something Deklan had said. Didn’t we already do this?
“I get drunk one fucking time and now you want to leave me?” he spat. This gave me pause, leave him? When I said leave I meant together. He was worried about me leaving him?
“No,” I said, quickly dispelling that thought. “I meant leave this town, to go home. Together.” He seemed to roll that around in his head, or it was taking him longer to process information. Either way, he grunted his satisfaction before heading to the bathroom.
“Let me wash off last night and we’ll go,” He shouted from inside the small bathroom.
“It’s okay, Ember can take me; you don’t have to go.”
“The fuck I don’t. You ditching me?” He stalked out of the bathroom naked as the day he was born. I’ve seen him naked before, obviously, but there is something about someone standing in front of you wearing nothing but a look of anger to make you forget things. Important things, like why I was mad.
“You ditched me,” I whispered out accusingly, not because I was scared, because I was angry and getting angrier by the minute. I’d needed him, I’d waited for him and he was getting drunk and maybe even…nope, I wasn’t going to let myself go there, he told me I was enough, but still…
“Oh, so we playing that game? Fuck it, have Ember take you, I got shit to do today anyway.” And he stormed back into the bathroom with a slam of the door so hard it shook the picture that was supposed to look like a painting off the wall. For a moment I stood there in shock, what just happened?
Yes, I provoked him when I lashed out, but that reaction? I wanted to chalk it up to him being moody from his hangover, but something kept nagging me. He got drunk for a reason; he didn’t call for a reason. Was he okay? Something must have happened and instead of me asking if he was okay, I made it all about me. Way to go Harley.
Feeling like shit, I texted Ember, and she agreed to meet me in ten. I waited a few minutes to let him know I was leaving, but when he didn’t come out right away after the shower went off, my thoughts immediately went to the bad, and I felt selfish and needy. I felt that familiar feeling that I couldn’t quite put my hands on, the feeling I got whenever my mother would yell at me for putting my needs first instead of hers. I didn’t like it then, and I hated it more now because this time, in my self-centeredness, I had hurt Deklan.
That caused me to need something, fortitude or punishment, I didn’t know which, but one or both had me quickly going over to the hiding razor in the bag to glean some composure with a small cut on the inside of my arm before Deklan emerged. Something that would able to be hidden by my shirt, but I’d still feel, enough to make me mellow out before I was too much of an obsessive freak to deal with everything and everyone else today. My shirt was dark so it wouldn’t show the small amount of blood. I knew what I was doing in making it in a spot that Deklan would notice, but I figured he wouldn’t want to touch me anytime soon, if ever, so why not? And really, I deserved this; I was self-seeking and needy and a bunch of other things that all added up to me being…I don’t know, I just felt that it was wrong. I was wrong.
My brain refused to make sense of the nonsense I was thinking and to avoid and redirect. So that’s what I did, I cleaned up last night’s clothes then after glancing at the still closed bathroom door, slipped outside to wait for Ember. I kept telling myself that after we got home, I’d stop. After we got home, things would be better, only deep, deep down, I didn’t think I actually believed that. I can’t say that I had a rational brain at the moment because it was filled with how it shouldn’t help me feel better to cut, how mad Deklan got, how easy it was for him to ignore me, or worse, dismiss me. And all those thoughts did was make me think that maybe, just maybe I was beyond help, even Deklan’s.
Chapter 8
Deklan
(Shinedown “Second Chance”)
Goddammit.
The second I said those fucked up words to her, I regretted it. What the hell was wrong with me? My head felt like it was being run through a juicer and every time I opened my eyes, I slammed them shut again because of the pain. I was fucking stupid, and I barely remembered getting home, let alone having sex, which was too good not to remember. The hot water from the shower helped a little with clearing my head, and I intended to go out and apologize for my assholeishness. She wasn’t the one I was pissed at, but when I came out, she was already gone.
Fuck
I deserved her leaving me like that with no explanation, but after doing a quick glance around the room, my muscles relaxed a bit at seeing her shit still there. Thank fuck. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if Harley decided I was too much of an asshole and screw up to be with any more. I was losing my grip on shit, and I knew why and I fucking hated it.
Royce.
His words, the words that I pretended didn’t mean shit to me when he had said them were now on repeat in my head along with a shit ton of unanswered questions. I knew without a doubt that I couldn’t give a rat’s ass why he had done what he had done to me over the years; I had long since come to grips with him just being a sick bastard. But I was curious to know why he felt now was the time to come clean about that shit.
I threw on some clothes and went to grab my keys…the fuck? Shit, I vaguely remember Matty driving me back to the motel. I shot him a quick text asking for my keys and had no sooner hit send when there was a banging on the motel door. I opened it thinking it was Harley coming back for something, only to find Matty standing there with two cups of coffee and a bag of what I hoped to god was something greasy.<
br />
“Morning, sunshine.” He barged past me, ignoring my irritated face. I just wanted my keys, not bonding time.
“Keys?” I asked, leaving the door open, so he knew this was going to be a quick visit.
“Let’s talk,” he said putting down the coffee and bag on the small table.
“Let’s not,” I countered. I didn’t want to hash shit out with him about last night. What I wanted was to go find Royce’s ass, tell him some shit, scoop Harley up, and duck out of this place forever. There were too many ghost and demons in this place for both of us that turned all of our molehill problems into fucking mountains.
“Look, you kinda have to listen to me since I'm not giving you shit until you do. So you can go to the trouble of getting your car back the hard way, or you can shut the fuck up and let me say my peace for ten fucking minutes. Your call, big brother.” He sat in the room’s one chair with his arms crossed and a determined look on his face; he fucking had me. Matty was never one to back down from anything, and even though he knew I could have easily busted him up real quick to make him give me my shit, he didn’t care. He had balls, hard not to be proud of that shit.
“You got eight before I lose my temper. Start talking, little brother.” I closed the door and leaned against it, I was still a little groggy and standing helped.
“Coffee? Bacon sandwich?” he offered, and I took it. The grease would help and hell, Matty hadn't gotten me shit, ever.
“Look, I talked to dad,” he started, and I jumped up, ready to kick his ass out. The old man had to send his fucking messenger do boy to tell me shit. Nah.
“Wait, before you go all ape man, I still got six minutes.” He tapped his watch and waited for me to post up again, which I did. The more I interrupted, the longer this would take, and I didn’t have the time.
“I asked him…about what you said and he admitted, fucking admitted it, Dek.” He hung his head and I stood there. What was I supposed to say to that? Was I supposed to be happy that the old man finally owned up to his shit, be grateful or something? If anything, I felt apathetic about it. So what, his confession to Matty went right up there with his so-called apology to me.
“What’s fucked up is I was always jealous of you. I thought dad fussed over you so much because he thought you were the one, the one to carry on the sacred Kane name and I was going to be left the nobody, the younger brother of the great Deklan Kane,” he said bitterly.
“How’d that reality work out for you?” I mocked.
“I didn't know, Dek; I swear. If I had known, I would have told someone, fucking helped you, been less of an annoying brother.”
“If that’s true, tell me this. When I finally got up the fucking guts to tell someone at school who would believe me and they sent someone out to investigate, why did you agree with him in making everyone think that I’d made the whole thing up? That my bruises were from a fight with other kids?” I asked, remembering that day, the hurt, and the fucking betrayal so clearly. The day he basically fucked me over when he told everyone I was a liar and a fuck up. Everyone believed him, of course they did. That night I had gotten my worse ‘lesson’ and I woke up hating and blaming him.
“Because I’d always thought I had to make him proud so he’d notice me! At the time, I honestly thought you were lying. He said you were, and I had no reason to not to believe him. He was always talking about you, about how you did this, and how you got in trouble for that. Yes, it was all negative shit, but it was always you. I did everything he asked me to, and I never once heard him say shit about me. It pissed me off. So when he asked me to say you were lying, I didn’t think twice, and that is on me. I own that shit now, but Dek, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Matt is a Kane, through and through, meaning we are tough; Royce raised us that way, but my tough little brother broke down like a baby, and it fucking hurt my heart. I hated that it hurt me for so many reasons. I wanted to continue being an asshole and tell him his eight minutes were up two minutes ago. I wanted to swell his ass up for admitting his fuck up that rode me for so fucking long. I wanted to do a lot of shit just so I wouldn’t feel the need to comfort my little brother.
But seeing him cry, the pain in his eyes, pain for me had me crossing the room and yanking him up in hard hug. I hadn’t hugged him since he had scraped his knee and got blood on his new jeans. He’d been afraid Royce was going to be angry with him and started crying before I hugged him and told him to just say I’d pushed him down. I’d gotten punched in the gut for that shit, but the gratitude from my brother had been worth it.
We broke apart and Matt wiped his face on his shirt and set my keys on the table.
“I’m done with him, Dek. I can’t stand behind him anymore, not after this. I spent years being devoted to someone who didn’t deserve my devotion and I’m fucking done. No more good son,” he stated vehemently.
I wasn’t sure where this left us, I didn’t give a shit what his and Royce’s relationship was like now, that was his deal. But him and me? Could I just forget all the shit he's done and pick back up being brothers? I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t just forget about him either. He was my brother, and despite all the shit I talked, I loved him still.
“Look, I gotta go find Harley; you wanna roll with?” I asked. This was my olive branch or whatever. If he really was sorry, he wouldn’t fuck this up.
“Yeah, you good to drive or you still lit from last night, with your pussy ass. Lightweight.” He laughed.
“Dick,” I said, flipping him off and grabbing my keys off the table. Fucking little brothers.
Harley
“Are you sure, you want to do this? I mean if it were my mother, I don’t think I could handle going to the police station to talk about her murder.” Ember prattled on while I tried to block her out. I knew she was trying to distract me, but it wasn’t working. I wished I could say that I was quite and fidgety because I was worried about what would happen at the police station but the truth is I was still worried about Deklan. Okay, yes Deklan could be a bit of an asshole on a good day, and on a bad day, he was something more. While I had known that, it had never been directed at me, until today. I didn’t like it.
“Em, could you just…sshhh.” I cut Ember off while she was going on about if I would go back home since it was a crime scene or not. I so wasn’t.
“Sorry.” She looked sheepish. “I just don’t know what to say. I mean I didn’t know what to say to Matt when his mom died, and he loved her. I really don’t know what to say to you since…” she drifted off not wanting to ask or say that I didn’t love mine. I never said I didn’t, she just assumed, everyone assumed that I should hate her, but the jury was still out on that one.
“It’s okay. Honestly, I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Okay, subject change. I’m pretty sure now that Matt is cheating on me. He came home smelling like beer and regret last night. And when I tried to, you know, since I hadn’t seen him in a week, he brushed me off.” She said it in a not such a big deal kind of way, but the way she held her body, her grip on the steering wheel said it was anything but. Again, I warred with telling her that he had, or at the very least had his tongue in someone else mouth according to Deklan, in Atlanta but was still iffy. I mean, it wasn’t my business, but ever since our heart to heart, I felt differently about it.
“I think that I bore him, that I’m not enough for him you know?” she asked sadly and it sucked that she felt that way; I knew the feeling.
“Ember, have you asked him?” I questioned softly, not wanting to give anything away in my voice.
“No, I don’t want to anger him, plus I’m not ready to lose him, Har, he’s all I know. Plus, I love him.” She looked over at me sadly as we rounded a corner. We were about three minutes from the station, and if I wasn’t focused on the impending questioning by the police, I was now. I wanted to comfort her, but all too soon, we were pulling into the police station parking lot and getting out.
Steeling mys
elf, I opened the door and asked for the detective handling my mom's case and was directed to wait. Ember and I had barely sat down before a middle-aged man with a stomach so big he could be ten months pregnant came over. “You Harley Reynolds?” When I nodded, he introduced himself as Detective Key and then motioned me to follow him.
“I’ll just wait right here,” Ember offered, and I silently thanked her. It would be tough enough to do this, but even tougher with an audience. You know how when you walk into a classroom late and all eyes are on you? Well, that’s exactly what walking through the police station with this detective felt like. Of course, he would lead me to the last interrogation room, but it was like everyone knew who I was and why I was there. All eyes were on me, super fucking awkward.
“You’re a hard girl to track down,” he said after setting down a file that I assumed was on my mother. When I only shrugged, he jumped right in with the questions: where have I been? What really happened the night I wound up in the hospital, how long had my mother been physically abusing me?
Hurt Me: A 'Me' Novel Page 14
