The Imperfections: A Forbidden Romance

by Sam Mariano

  “Anyway, so that night we decided to go out on the boat. We were already drunk, so we shouldn’t have. Not only because it’s a bad idea to drink and drive a boat, but because Brant’s an angry drunk, and he and Nicole were already sniping at each other.”

  Frowning, I look back up at Bri. “Really? I’ve been around Brant drunk before, and he didn’t seem angry to me.”

  Bri shrugs. “I suppose it depends on what’s going on in his mind when he’s sober. Maybe he was just angrier in general back then.”

  Or maybe Nicole brought it out in him. Brant isn’t the nicest guy in the world now, so it’s hard to imagine him being angrier back then.

  Or maybe I haven’t really seen him angry.

  I think back to the night he was so drunk he doesn’t remember it. I recall some of the things he said. I guess they could have been interpreted as angry, but I just thought of them as sexy.

  Maybe that’s the difference. I don’t inflame Brant’s anger, I don’t throw fuel on the fire when it’s already stoked. Maybe it goes back to what he said about how I’m loyal and supportive and unlike anyone he has ever met before. I don’t fan the flames of his crazy just for sport; when the fire is raging, I let it go until it burns out, and then I’m still there for him when the flames die down.

  I think Nicole always carried around a container of lighter fluid in her back pocket.

  “So, we were out on the water, and everything seemed okay at first. Brant was steering the boat but I wanted to, so he started to show me what to do. Nicole and Brandon were sitting behind us, and I don’t know exactly what happened,” she says, shaking her head. “One minute Brant was sitting there with me while I steered the boat, and the next he was looking back at Nicole and scowling at her. He got up and told her to come out on the deck with him, then he closed the door and we could faintly hear them arguing, but I couldn’t hear what it was about. The boat was loud and I was used to them fighting from time to time, so I just didn’t think much of it, you know?”

  I nod my understanding.

  “But then after a few minutes, the fighting stopped and they didn’t come back in. I figured they were just making up, but I told Brandon to move the curtain aside and peek out the window to make sure everything was okay. When he did, he said he didn’t see Nicole. At first, I didn’t think anything of it. Nicole had a habit of using sex in response to Brant’s anger, so I told him to check ‘below deck,’ if you catch my drift.”

  I wrinkle up my nose at the image of any woman but me on her knees for Brant.

  “They had a volatile, passionate relationship,” she explains. “It fed on the fighting.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Well, in any case, Brandon swore she wasn’t out there. I told him to take the wheel and I slid the door open and went out on the deck, and…he was right, Nicole was nowhere. Brant was just standing there, staring down into the water. Just staring. He didn’t… he wasn’t doing anything until I came out, and then he sort of slowly snapped out of it. I asked where Nicole went, and he said she fell into the water. Nicole didn’t know how to swim, so I freaked out and demanded to know when. The boat was moving, why hadn’t he rushed into the cabin to tell me the moment she fell overboard so I could stop or turn around or… do something?” Looking up at me, she shakes her head, a haunted look in her eye. “He swears she fell in, he swears it was an accident, but Alyssa, he didn’t do anything to try to save her. I ran back in the cabin and told Brandon and he dove in and tried to find her, but… she was gone.”

  Imagining that night, the hair stands up on my arms. “But why would he have…?”

  Bri shrugs, averting her gaze, looking a little more defensive than she has up until this point. “It’s hard to say. I tried to ask him about it after her funeral. I just wanted to get the truth out of him. I hated thinking he had done something so horrible, but the way he acted afterward… everyone started to wonder. He wouldn’t tell me at first. You know Brant—he’s protective of me, and everything changed, but he didn’t tell me why. He got in a fight with Brandon—like, punches thrown, a physical altercation, not just yelling at each other. He wouldn’t go to Nicole’s funeral or have anything to do with celebrating her memory. It was like he wanted her to be gone, like he wanted to forget her. And like I said before, he changed, darkened, sank into himself more than he ever had before. Finally, after the shock had worn off for all of us, I guess, he told me his version of events.”

  I tense at the way she says that, like because it’s his side of the story, it’s inherently unreliable.

  “He said while we were steering the boat and I was messing with the controls, he glanced back and saw Nicole’s hand on Brandon’s thigh. They weren’t paying attention to him since he was showing me how to steer, and they were too busy playing with each other. He said that the way Brandon smiled at her, it didn’t seem like it was the first time, and then they touched hands and exchanged looks, and he just… he just knew something was going on. He hauled Nicole out on the deck so I wouldn’t overhear, then accused her of fucking around with my boyfriend—his best friend. And I guess she was so fed up at that point, she didn’t even deny it. I guess she taunted him. That’s what he says,” she adds quickly, looking up at me. “After Brant told me all this, of course I went straight to Brandon and demanded answers, but he swore they weren’t sleeping together, they weren’t doing anything. He said their hands might have briefly touched on the seat between them, but it was nothing and Brant overreacted.”

  “And you believed him over Brant?” I ask softly. My tone isn’t accusing, but my own loyalty to Brant does make me feel bad for him, if that’s the case.

  Bri sighs, looking down at the counter. “I didn’t believe he cheated. There was no evidence, and Nicole was dead, so the only other person who could’ve confirmed or denied it was gone. I stayed with Brandon, and I’m not sure Brant ever forgave me. We were never as close again after that. Brant took it like I had turned my back on him, and I don’t know… maybe I did.” She drifts off a little sadly, then looks back up at me, a sad glint in her eye. “The worst part was, when Brandon and I did finally break up, it was because he cheated on me with some other girl and left me for her.”

  I grimace. “That sucks.”

  Bri nods, gazing off behind me. “My first real heartbreak. I took it hard. I didn’t even wanna—” She stops, shaking her head, and swipes a hand under her eye.

  I hop off the chair, startled that she’s crying, and walk around the counter to comfort her. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stir up so many painful memories.”

  Sniffling, she shakes her head a little quicker. “I’m okay. It was just a hard time, and then it got harder. Brandon was—the girl he left me for was this awful crackwhore. He started doing drugs after Nicole died. He didn’t cope with it real well, and, um, he started doing things like that…”

  I watch her uncomfortably try to collect herself, my heart pounding a little too hard inside my chest. I cast a look back out the sliding doors, but they’re still safely shut.

  Bri grabs my hand and steals my attention. She’s looking me straight in the eye, and the suddenness of it makes my skin crawl. “Brant never did anything like that, Alyssa. He didn’t hang out with people like that. He didn’t really hang out with anyone after Nicole died, especially not Brandon.”

  “Okay,” I say uncertainly.

  “But one night he went over and hung out with Brandon and his old friends, Brandon and that girl he left me for. And that same night, Brandon overdosed. Shot up with more drugs than he ever took on his own, and he died, Alyssa. He died.”

  Her eyes are wide as she tells me this, her gaze locked on mine like she’s trying to impart very important information and I need to pay attention.

  My stomach sinks a little, whether from the look in her eyes or the words she’s saying, I’m not sure.

  “Nobody suspected Brant because nobody knew they should. After the Nicole thing, we didn’t tell anyone about the
fight or what he said about Nicole cheating on him with Brandon. We knew how it would look, so we kept it to ourselves, let it look like an accident, a bunch of stupid kids doing stupid shit and a tragedy resulting from it. But when Brandon died, too, and Brant was there…”

  I swallow, leaning back until the edge of the counter digs into my flesh.

  The second person he killed. He said there were two, but he never gave me any details about the second one.

  “I was scared after that,” she tells me quietly, her gaze fixed on the gleaming countertop. “I didn’t know what my brother was capable of anymore. I said some not very nice things to him, I think. It’s all a little fuzzy for me now.”

  I have no idea what to say. I only expected her to tell me about Nicole, but her second confession of Brant’s sins came tumbling right out of her.

  “I felt like he was a monster at the time. He’d taken it too far. He didn’t even admit he did it, just closed himself off after all the things I said that night, but I was in pain. I was still nursing the heartbreak, and then Brandon was just gone. Yes, I’d been hurting and I had said some things, maybe wished him dead during some of my darker moments, but I hadn’t meant it. I didn’t want him dead. I just… I just wanted the pain to stop. I was young, and I didn’t know anything,” she says, dragging her hands down her face.

  I swallow. Unsure what else to do, I walk over and gingerly pat her back in an attempt to reassure her. “It’s all right, Bri.”

  “It’s not,” she disagrees, dropping her hands and looking at me. “There’s no line Brant won’t cross to protect me, Alyssa.”

  “Well, he is your twin brother,” I offer, shrugging uncertainly. I don’t know what else she wants me to say. “Aren’t twins supposed to be bonded even closer than regular siblings?”

  “You’re not—” She shakes her head in mild aggravation, then looks at me and sighs. “I don’t know how to—”

  I stand there, completely at a loss for what to do as Bri sputters, never once finishing a thought.

  She never gets to, either, because the sliding door behind us opens, taking us both by surprise. When I turn around, Brant comes through the door with a frown on his face as he takes in our close proximity. My heart hammers then drops through my stomach.

  “What are you girls doing in here?” he asks, a thread of suspicion in his voice as his gaze lands on the open photo album.

  I step away from Bri, backing over to the other side of the counter where the album lies. “Bri was just showing me some old photos of you.”

  He doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but he moves closer to take a look. “Oh yeah?”

  “Mm-hmm,” I say, looking back at him as he stops just behind me. “You didn’t tell me you were such a hottie, even at my age.”

  Brant’s gaze lingers on the photograph then he looks up at Bri. He doesn’t say a word, but Bri fidgets nervously, and her guilty response probably does more than anything to raise his suspicions. She could have shown me any picture in this album, but the one he walked in on was the one of him with Nicole.

  “Just looking at pictures, huh?” he murmurs.

  Bri still can’t look at him. God, she’s bad at this.

  I don’t know what to do, so I flip back a few pages and stop on one of him, Bri, and their dad. He’s in the middle with a twin on each side, one arm around each of them. Since someone has to say something and it’s the truth anyway, I look up at him and say softly, “Bri told me your dad passed away. I’m sorry to hear that. I really would’ve liked to meet him.”

  Brant’s gaze drifts to me, still mildly distrustful. His eyes rake over my face then drift a little lower, like he’s taking stock of me. Seeing I’m still here and calmer than Bri, he slides his arm around my shoulders—maybe just to see if I pull away from him or not, but I don’t. Regardless of everything Bri said, I lean right into him.

  Brant seems to find a measure of relief in that. He looks down at the photograph I flipped to and nods faintly. “I’d have liked that, too. He was a good man.”

  “It sounds like it,” I agree.

  Brant nods, then looks across the counter at Bri. “Everything okay in here?”

  “Yeah,” she says quickly, forcing a smile. “All good.”

  “You seem upset.”

  “I’m not,” she lies.

  His gaze lingers on his sister for a moment, and with every second he stares, she seems to get more and more uncomfortable. It’s cringeworthy, honestly, and it goes on forever.

  After what feels like 8,000 years, Brant finally looks down at me and says, “It’s getting late. I think it’s time for us to go.”

  “Okay,” I agree. I’m reluctant to leave the photo album though, and as I close it, I can’t help running my hand across it one more time. “Do you have one of these?” I ask Brant. “I’d love to go through the rest of it and see more pictures of you growing up. We didn’t make it very far before you came in.”

  “You can take it home with you,” Bri offers. “And you can bring it back next time I see you. Right?” she adds, looking at Brant instead of me.

  His eyes narrow doubtfully, but he merely says, “Of course she can.”

  22

  Brant

  Most of the ride home is pretty quiet. Scout’s curled up on the seat beside us and Alyssa is flipping through Bri’s old family photo album, running her hands across the thin plastic film protecting our pictures and smiling to herself.

  All of a sudden, she looks over at me and says, “I know why you don’t like Dirk.”

  That’s just about the last thing I expected her to say. I’ve been waiting for her to tell me what she and Bri really talked about, now that Bri isn’t here acting like a nervous wreck and making Alyssa uncomfortable. Her loyalty to me is far greater than any loyalty she has toward Bri, so now that we’re alone, I expect the real goddamn story.

  Not following her sudden insight into my opinion of Dirk, I glance over at her. “What?”

  She has the book open to that picture she was looking at when I walked into Bri’s kitchen, the one with me and Nicole. Now she covers most of the picture with her palm so only I’m visible and she stands the album up, angling it toward me so I can see it better. “Look at this, you at our age. Hair a little too long, smirk a little too insolent, a dark, mysterious gleam of trouble dancing in your eyes—you were Dirk. You don’t like him because you see yourself in him, and… well, that’s exactly why I do like him.”

  “Did,” I correct, sliding a stern look her way.

  Grinning and rolling her eyes, she says, “Fine, did. My point still stands.” Her tone turns a little more teasing as she says, “You were a bit of a bad boy, weren’t you, Brantley Morrison?”

  “Jeeze,” I mutter, rolling my eyes at her.

  “You were,” she insists. “And I need a copy of this picture—just you, though. I don’t need everyone else, but I have a bit of a crush, and I want to be able to look at your gorgeous face from time to time.”

  “Sitting right here. You can look at me any time,” I assure her.

  “I intend to,” she says flirtatiously. Then back to normal, she states, “I still want a copy of the picture. Boat-stealing, panty-dropping young Brantley. I wish I would’ve known you back then. I would’ve saved you from stupid, skanky Nicole. I would’ve never let you be lonely.”

  A trickle of peace starts pouring through me at first, then all of a sudden a whole wave of it washes over me. Once in a while this girl opens her mouth and the exact right words tumble out of it, words I didn’t even know I wanted to hear, bridging chasms within me I thought no one would ever get across.

  I look over at her, but her attention is back on my family photo album, a little smile still playing around her lips.

  I do love her. How could I not? She’s fucking perfect. Not everyone else’s version of perfect, but perfect for me? Absolutely.

  I’m not sure why, but I don’t tell her yet. I just shift my attention back to the road and dri
ve us the rest of the way home.

  When we get there, Alyssa follows me inside with the album tucked under her arm. Scout’s awake now, so I feed him and let him out one more time before we head up to bed.

  “I wish you didn’t have to work tomorrow,” Alyssa tells me.

  The door’s open, so I can see her in the bathroom in just her bra and panties, looking in the mirror as she takes her hair down and shakes it out.

  “Yeah, so do I. I’ll do something about my schedule soon. I’m gonna need some time off during the day to help you move in anyway, but now that you’re here, I’ll change it so I’m working a bit less.”

  Alyssa turns off the bathroom light, not bothering to grab a nightie. Still in just her bra and panties, she approaches my side of the bed. I cock an eyebrow at her as she climbs on top of me, straddling me and leaning in to wrap her arms around my neck.

  “I appreciate that,” she says.

  Looking down at the swell of cleavage pushed right up against me and then back at her face, I inform her, “And I appreciate your chosen sleepwear.”

  A glimmer of mischief in her eyes, she says, “Bras aren’t really all that comfortable to sleep in.”

  “No?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Well, maybe I should help you with that, then,” I tell her, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra.

  Sighing dreamily, she teases, “You’re such a gentleman.”

  “I do what I can,” I murmur, pulling the fabric away from her body and tossing it on the floor by my bed.

  I drink in the sight of her, my cock hardening now that her perfect little tits are just right here in front of me like this.

  I want to fuck her. She clearly wants me to fuck her. I could definitely fuck her right now, so I don’t know why instead of doing that I open my mouth and out tumbles, “Did Bri tell you about the night Nicole died?”

  Shock flits across Alyssa’s face. She unlocks her arms from around my neck and slouches back a little, also clearly not expecting that in response to her offering. Her brow furrows then her frown deepens and she drops her gaze. Finally, she climbs off me and over into her own spot.