by D. M. Burns
What I’m battling with the most is the fact that Brogan is still thinking of no one but himself, his wants. Being a self-serving little prick is another talent that he excels at. Unfortunately, I won’t be cheering him on. Fuck that. I’ll back away from the shit that’s sure to unfold though.
From what I’ve seen, his actions take the sunshine away, literally. With the velocity and depth that she loves him, what the fuck can I do at this point? This shit simply defies any logic. I don’t trust my visions anymore because I never saw this preview, ever.
chapter 10
Brealyn
As I take in Channing’s eyes, there’s no silver, just black holes with a bright crimson kindle flaring out. Brogan’s are ice-white spheres with a deadly artic shell that consumes the soulless. My out of body spirit can see the leftover scene as I take in the two brothers at opposite ends of the penthouse in a deadly standoff.
Blackness and nothing more; no life just evil awareness. My blood-covered body lies out between them then as a battle ensues. They’re going to kill each other and for what? I have no idea how I ended up in a pool of blood, my own blood. That within itself is haunting in nature. Jesus Christ. This is not how things are supposed to go.
Abruptly jerking up in my bed with frantic movements, I swiftly jolt out of the covers only to get myself tangled up. I land on my butt onto the hardwood floor of my loft with a loud banging sound. Skidding across the floor until I’m in the far corner with my back pressed into the wall. My rushed breathing and achy rear end are both steady reminders that I’m alive.
Pulling my knees into my chest, I wrap my arms around my legs trying to steady the convulsive shakes coursing through my body. I search my loft for two sets of eyes: demonic firepits and artic ice chambers. Even though I can’t see them, I feel like there still peering out at me from the shadows that are sweeping over my apartment. It was just a dream… Another haunting dream from hell.
“Jesus… I’m losing my mind.” My voice breaks and the tears blur my vision. I wasn’t going to lie to Channing. I don’t understand my dreams, but I want him to get on with life. To get along with his brother. To know that I’m okay, sorta. Less these demented dreams and that run-in with those rapist buttholes from earlier, I’m fine. Just fine, right? “Please help me,” I whisper out to no one but anyone that might be listening.
Between my dreams of that penthouse fright night special, the little boy with the burning eyes, Brogan with the arctic icy chambers, Channing with his pits of fire, and my newfound attribute that apparently summons all the crazies in, I’m beginning to think it’s time for a nice hefty dose of some prescribed Zoloft. Either that or a capable shrink. Crap, I believe I’m having a nice panic attack. What does all of this mean?
Pushing up to stand, my legs are shaky and unsteady. Which I guess is understandable right now. I take a deep breath through my nose and let it out. And again. Deciding to move my mental meltdown to the fire escape for some fresh air seems to be the better option for me at this point. I push my jelly legs forward and grab my compact case from the nightstand, my water bottle, then snatch my blanket off the floor in passing.
Sliding my window open, I crawl through my cutout square planting my booty on the cold fire escape. Dang, it must’ve rained earlier. With shaky hands, I wrap myself up inside the warm blanket and unzip my compact. Thumbing around, I pull out the prescription that my doctor gave me last week. After my check-up and truthful confessions about my anxiety coupled with sleepless nights, he thought it was time to try this method of coping. I eyeball it like the devil himself scrawled out the script.
I’ve never contemplated taking medication in order to deal but I’ve never suffered from lack of sleep in this velocity either. Plus, my heart… Oh God, my heart seems as though it has been laid out on top of Brogan’s boardroom boss chopping block and sliced up irrevocably. I want to numb it all. This route might be my ticket out. Even momentary relief is welcome.
I drop the bottle on top of the blanket and cover my face with my hands rocking back and forth because once again I can sense him. I can smell him. I can feel him all around me. He’s everywhere but nowhere at all. What is wrong with me?
“Oh God, I’m going crazy… Why do I feel like he’s always here with me? JESUS.” I hiss through gritted teeth. I rake my nails through my hair and let out a crazed giggle with zero humor.
Opening my script bottle, I stare down at the tiny guaranteed chemical problem solvers. “It’s worth a try. If it doesn’t help or I don’t like it then I won’t take anymore.” I thumb the top off my water and shake the bottle dropping a tablet out into my hand then place the prescription back in my pouch. I stare down at the little blue pill with skepticism.
chapter 11
Brogan
Sitting across from her in my normal fire escape seated stance, my elbows propped against my bent knees. Both of my hands are firmly clinging to my hair as I eavesdrop in turmoil while watching this fuckery with her play out. Why the fuck would some doctor prescribe her a sedative to deal? Is this why her bubbly outlook and Sunnyside up nature has dimmed. No, that rightful blame is on me.
Reaching out, I use my middle finger to flick the pill out of her palm launching it into the night's air. Brealyn sits there unmoving and watches as the pill flies out into the atmosphere seemingly on its own suicide mission. That shits destination is a pavement graveyard existence; exactly where it needs to be instead of filtering through her bloodstream. She twists her head looking all around her and even up above, confusion is written all over her unsettled face.
Of course, she thinks she’s going insane. My ass is incapable of staying away. Being the dumb motherfucker I am, I take it a step further and lean in smelling her peachy lotion of choice that’s absorbed into her skin. If I had stopped with the pill propelling bullshit everything would’ve stayed incognito and my actions would’ve gone undetected. Of course, nothing is ever enough for me when it comes to her, endless craving.
One more inch to the left, I bask in the smell of her strawberry scented hair that flows over her shoulders. Layered down the little tank and boy shorts she threw on after she showered earlier. It’s one of the sets I purchased for her at Christmas. But before I move my ass back to my assigned corner, gaining some control over the situation, she suddenly swivels in my direction, and two warm hands clamp over the sides of my face holding me in place.
“I feel you. Always.” She whispers out.
She quickly twists onto her knees knocking the water and prescription case off the fire escape, thank fuck. Zero shits are given for that method of dealing. Abruptly, she scurries to stand and since she has my face in her tight vice-like grip, I move with her. I’m in complete fucking shock with this turn of events.
“Oh, God… I sense you when you get close to me. I feel you. I smell you. You even invade my dreams… Please for the love of whatever’s left of my sanity…” Her voice is quivering and one of her hand’s glide over the side of my white-streaked hair. “Please, oh God, please don’t hide from me anymore Brogan.” Her eyes are two frantic blue beams aimed right at me, imploring. It’s like she has the ability to actually see me right now.
Fuck it… When I fade into existence in front of her she sighs in relief and pulls me down into her space resting her forehead against mine. God damn it. I’ve fucked up in a huge way. There’s nothing I can do about it now though. Quite frankly, I don’t want to hide from her anymore. I’m tire of this shit and I know this woman would never speak about my secrets. I feel that in my bones. She’d gladly take my truths to her grave.
Wrapping my arms around her causes her body to melt into me. Brea buries her head into my chest and exhales. She’s my perfect counterpart. My shot of sweet Southern Comfort.
“Hey, friend.” She whispers. I grunt out my distaste for that fucking word when it comes to her. Quite frankly, it feels like an insult to my feelings for this woman.
Leaning down, I grab her blanket and pull it over her shivering l
ittle body. Those sapphire pools watch me with great interest but the relieved undertone swimming around is drowning everything else out. Brushing my lips lightly across her naked shoulder causes her to shiver from the contact. It reminds me of a butterfly fluttering its wings.
“Hey, butterfly,” I whisper out. My words float over the skin of her neck leaving a trail of goosebumps. That gives me a tremendous amount of pleasure.
“I guess I’m dreaming again.” Her voice sounds mystified. I smirk down at her because she honestly believes she’s hallucinating.
“If so, is this a nightmare?” I ask.
“No. I can touch you in this one.” Damn… She threads her arms around my waist and I pull her body into mine while tucking the blanket around her.
“Baby, let's go into your loft, yeah?” I think it’s best to have her confined inside sturdy walls before she figures out that she’s wide awake and everything she’s witnessing so far is very much real. “It’s too cold out here.”
“Uhm, sure. Just hold my hand and don’t let go, okay?” Her eyes search mine. “I don’t want you to slip away again.” She whispers as she leans over quickly grabbing her stuff.
“I’m not going anywhere, butterfly.” I assure her.
“You promise?” She looks back to me and I cup her face in my hands.
“Swear to Christ, Brealyn.” She smiles wide but reaches up taking my hand in hers anyway like my word is not good enough. I don’t blame her. She turns and leads the way into the loft.
Brea flops onto her stomach in the bed then props her chin into her hands letting her eyes follow my movement. I shrug my coat off, tossing it onto her chair then I lose my shoes. Crawling up beside her onto the soft fluffy cloudlike bed, is a familiar occurrence. Hell, I’ve done this so many other nights once I knew she was out cold. My level of crazy knows no bounds when it comes to her. She rolls onto her back and stares up at me.
“I’m not asleep, am I?” She whispers up at me and I shake my head no.
“Are you scared of me?” I ask.
“Of course not. That doesn’t even make sense to me.” She slow blinks then shakes her head no. “How many times have you done this? I mean, come to me here, like this?”
“Almost every night,” I admit and she brushes her palm across my face.
“Tell me, please. I want to know.”
Brea’s eyes implore me to be truthful for once and I will. Everything but my ultimate gift of death. That birthright is something no one knows but me, not even my dad. I was fearful to tell my father. I never wanted him to look at me and think his wife’s life was wasted. That she gave birth to a demon of death. Giving up that precious kind of love, your soulmate, for someone that comes equipped to harness death, is an abomination within itself. That I’ll keep to myself.
“Other than my disappearing ruse, I can move through barriers and obstacles. I have Godlike strength and I don’t need much sleep. I can read minds but with you, and only you, I can see your thoughts threw your eyes view.” She scrunches her brows and I try to smooth the wrinkles out. “I’m called a Lone Walker, Brea. That’s what we’re called in a technical term, I guess. Me and Channing… My dad too before he died. We don’t age or start to decline until we find our true love. Dad found my mom and well, you get the gist.”
“Jesus… Is that why you don’t want anything to do with me?” She bounds up quickly, her eyes full of fear. I can’t help it, I chuckle. “No, no. This is not funny. Get up… Get up right now. You need to go now, Brogan. I can’t be responsible for that. I won’t.” She starts to climb off the bed but I catch her and pull her back down, pinning her underneath my body.
“Calm down, baby. My hourglass simply gets turned over and my countdown finally begins. I simply start to age like normal; live my life with my paired soul. Or you can think of it how I see it; I get to finally live, feel love. Plus, you don’t get a say in that decision, butterfly. If I remember correctly, your words were, I didn’t get a choice.” I brush her wavy blonde hair from her face and smile down at her. God, she fits my body perfectly. “Just like I don’t have a chance in hell with changing how I feel about you.” I brush my hand across her cheek.
“Then if that’s not the reason, why? Why didn’t you want us to be together?” Shit… I’m going to need to tiptoe around this.
“After that night at the penthouse, I saw your dreams and thought that was our future. I wanted no part to play in you getting hurt. Which if you were smart, you’d be wise to steer clear of me. My attributes are camouflaged as gifts but in my eyes it’s a curse.” I shake my head slowly no.
“It was just a dream.” Her eyes bounce between mine and I nod.
“I know that now.” I swallow hard. “But being with me comes with drawbacks, Brea.” I want her to understand that she has a choice.
“I don’t see things that way, Brogan. Was that you tonight with me in that alley?” She asks. I nod my head. “So, you saved my life and you think that’s a drawback?”
Brea doesn’t understand. Saving her was never even an option. It was like air, necessary. The sad fact is that I enjoyed the dark side of that run in. A little too much. I’m not God though but carrying on as if I am, even with rapist scum such as those deceased assholes, will come back to haunt me eventually. Those are facts. I can’t even bring myself to feel anything other than joy for my choice. My evil was good tonight.
“That’s not what I mean, butterfly. I should let you fly away but I can’t.” I grate out. My throat is thick with truth and the conflict of war taking place inside of me is nothing short of an internal bloodbath.
“Don’t you get it? I’d simply fly back to you.”
“I said I should but I’m not.” My words are painful because I know what I’m doing is wrong. To her. That little voice inside my head is telling me that I’ll pay for my sins through her. Fuck…
“So, you can read my mind? You’ve known my thought vomit this whole time? Oh my God… No wonder you hated me in that interview…” Her eyes go wide. “I was thinking you probably had a small penis.” She covers her face with her hands and the blush creeps across her cheeks and neckline. Damn… My smile is on full display.
“Your thoughts are the purest and more honest insights to date. Maybe the uneducated guesses were slightly off but hey, it was entertaining all the same. I welcomed those pleasantries. They’re some of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, censored cursing in a southern drawl and all, Brea.” She giggles and that sound causes me to chuckle.
“Then you already know what I’m thinking now, right?” She slowly tugs her shirt over her head causing her beautiful hair to fall all around us in golden waves. Her soft breasts are tucked against me but my icy eyes are locked on her sapphire pools. “And you know how I feel.” She pulls at my shirt and I let her rid me of the restraint. “But I want you to know that I was wrong about something and I didn’t realize it until now.” Those eyes bounce between mine and I tilt my head at her in a questioning manner. “My love for you is a living need in me that happened way before I ever met you in person.”
Closing my eyes, I open my mind and see her in an unfamiliar apartment as she rises up from her laidback slumber in bed. She’s paying special attention to something on the TV. And I see it’s me her gaze is taking in on the big screen. One of the only interviews I ever entertained is playing out. Jesus Christ, this woman saw me coming. This shit is unreal. I open my eyes and she’s nodding and smiling sweetly as if to say now you see.
“Denying it only destroys me a little more every day. Please give me what I want the most and that is you, all of you.”
“Fuck, Southern Comfort… Denying you was never my intention.” My hips press into her out of pure habitual habit and need. “Saving you. Keeping you. Protecting you. That’s my purpose. Destroying you, never.” I grate out.
“God’s will is not for you to decide, Brogan.” She wraps her tiny hands on both sides of my face. “You’re not protecting, only postponing. Pl
ease…”
“This is going to alter life as we know it, Brea.” I share my thoughts with her because she needs to know. “Tonight will change everything. You need to understand that. I’m not just talking about physically.” I shake my head at her. “I know once I’ve had you, all of you…” I take a deep breath then continue, “I’m never going to be the same.”
Those words are the damn truth. This, her… Is something I feel inside my soul that should be on display behind a protectant glass and out of my reach. The beautiful butterfly sheltered away from the beast. I’m sure I’ll live to regret this decision, but my selfish ass wants her to damn bad to care with that right now.
“I haven’t been the same since the very first time I laid eyes on you, but I’m not scared of this, us. I don’t want to know what life is like without you anymore. My worst fear is thinking that in a few minutes I’ll wake up and this will be another dream and you’ll be gone again. You once told me that the anxiety exists only in preserving and protecting what you want the most once you have it within your grasp. The real threat though thrives in the possibility of losing it. And you’re right but my true nightmare is the possibility that I’ll simply wake up to find that I’ve dreamt it all over once again. Having you but not having you. That’s my reoccurring hell. It’s violent and unforgiving to my heart. Please make it go away.”
“You think I have that power but Brea, baby… What if in reality, I turn out to be the true nightmare pulling you into my version of hell?”
“Please stop. You know that’s not true.” I turn my head to the side because I’m not sure of anything anymore other than the fact that I want her. That all-consuming desire tends to muffle everything else out in the background. “Look at me Brogan Malic Creed.” I turn back to her and she glides her hands over my face. It’s like she’s capturing my features underneath her touch. “That’s not possible and this is not corrupt, Brogan. Together, we are not wicked. Our wants are pure. You and I are so much more than even we realize.”
