Unbroken

by Jasmine Carolina

  EIGHTEEN

  I STARE DOWN AT MY phone in silence.

  Nic Quinn: Can you meet me at the Harlow Galleria? Someone wants to talk to you.

  I’m not even sure what to think of Nickayla’s text message when it comes through my cell phone. We haven’t exactly hung out outside of work. I spend my mornings running with Henry, my days at school, my afternoons working, and my evenings with Brody and my siblings. I don’t really have time for much else outside of all that.

  Today’s my first off day since Brody and my first date two weeks ago, because I’ve been requesting over time so I can save extra money. He asked me to go to prom with him, and even though it’s a little over a month away, I want to be prepared. I didn’t go to my junior prom, because my original date was supposed to be Henry. When he got with Kelsey, he backed out at her constant pleading, and I spent my night teaching Mila to walk.

  I’m excited about prom. In my wildest dreams I couldn’t have ever imagined going with Lewellyn’s Guy, but I’m so happy I am. And I’m glad we found each other again. Now Henry knows he really exists, and that’s a weight off my shoulders, explaining that the perfect guy is a real life person and not a figment of my sleep-deprived, fifteen year old imagination.

  I want to tell Brody—or better yet, ask him—about the day we first met. I’ve run that day in my mind over a million times in the past two years, and nearly twice as much since the first night I slept in his bed, trying to make sure he really is the guy from that bakery. And I know he is. This is more than just fate. It’s chemistry. We work together, and well, despite what should be obvious differences.

  We’ve been spending every single waking moment together, and our very first date only sealed the deal. He put so much thought into it, I was incredibly flattered. He took me to a batting cage because he knows we both like sports and it was something we could do together. He played the same phenomenal country song all night, just because he knew how much I love country music. He spent an hour with my mom making the best tortas I’ve ever tasted, because he knows I prefer Mexican food to American. He didn’t know what kinds of chips or candy I would like, so bought damn near the entire snack section. There were so many small, intimate details he put into last night that I fell a little farther for him.

  Today, we were initially going to do something together, but he ended up going shopping with Nickayla. Which makes her text message all the more weird. I know the someone is Brody, so why be so unnecessarily vague?

  I consider ignoring it just for the simple fact that this is incredibly weird, but I decide against it. Nickayla has never been anything but nice to me, so the least I can do is see what she wants. Besides, I don’t have shit else to do today, and Bianca’s here and perfectly able to watch the kids for a couple hours, so I respond to Nickayla’s text message.

  Me: Sure. Be there in ten.

  The perks of where I live is the fact that we’re literally ten minutes away from the Harlow Galleria. I can shop whenever I want, for however long I want, and I’ve never missed curfew.

  So I hop in my car since I’m already dressed. It doesn’t take me any time to get to the mall either; what’s going to kill me is having to find a parking spot. There are never any in the lot I’m used to parking in, and trying to find one is headache-inducing.

  I wonder how much Brody has told her about our special situation. I know we haven’t put a label on it, but I would hope he’d at least tell his close friends that there’s something between us. Of course, I haven’t had the chance to tell Henry about my new status with Brody, but once I do get the chance, I know he’ll be nothing but happy for me.

  Within five minutes, I locate one toward the back of the lot, so I park my car and head toward the front doors. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I dial Nickayla’s number. She answers almost immediately.

  “Hey, Bree,” she says.

  “Hey. I’m here. Where are you?” I ask.

  “Wetzel’s Pretzels.”

  Acknowledging her answer, I hang up the phone. A few minutes later, I’m walking up to a small table at Wetzel’s Pretzels. I don’t even see Nickayla when I get there. I have eyes only for Brody. I grin at him easily, and I notice the way his eyes light up when he sees me approaching.

  Everything about him calls to me, and it’s written all over his face how he feels about me, even if he hasn’t quite put it into words yet.

  Brody doesn’t even greet me. Instead, he stands up and takes my hand immediately, like whatever he has to say is a matter of urgency. He gives Nickayla a sideways glance before he leads me away, his arms encircling my waist.

  We stop in front of a Bath and Body Works and he leans against the outside wall. He crosses his legs at the ankles and grins widely at me.

  “Hey, Dove.”

  I grin at him. “Hey.”

  He glances back at Nickayla momentarily and sighs. “I’m sorry about her. She thinks she’s hooking us up.”

  I laugh outwardly, but deep inside, I wonder why he hasn’t told her about us. I don’t want to be with someone who’s ashamed of me.

  “Yeah,” I say. “So what’s up? What’d you want to talk to me about?”

  He sighs, and a million different scenarios run through my head. Is he going to tell me he doesn’t want to be with me? Is he going to move out? Is he seeing someone else? We don’t have a label on what we’re doing, so I don’t know if that means we can see other people. But I’m not. God, I forgot how boys made me all of a sudden question everything about myself.

  “Nickayla’s Nonna has a cabin in Big Bear. We try to do something huge with our group of friends every year, and we decided in the fall that we were going to spend spring break in Big Bear. It was supposed to be a couples’ retreat type thing. However, when we made the plans, I was going to take Nickayla’s sister Naomi, so we could both be included. But now I have you, and Naomi has a…man friend, so. So I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me for the week.”

  Holy shit.

  I run his offer through my mind. And everything hits me all at once. Meeting his friends, the people who are important to him. Exclusivity. Spending a week without having to hide the fact that we sleep together. Getting to do cheesy, cutesy couples’ shit with him. Wow.

  I’m rendered speechless.

  “I’d love to go. Thank you for asking me.”

  Suddenly, he grabs my hip and guides me toward his rock hard body. As I approach him, I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his shirt. I close my eyes as one of his hands rises to stroke my hair.

  “I want to kiss you so bad right now,” he whispers.

  Ever since the night of Cynthia’s wedding, he doesn’t hold anything back. He tells me exactly what’s on his mind without me having to ask him nine times out of ten. And the words that come out of his mouth sometimes…it’s clear his mom raised a charmer.

  I laugh, then peer up at him through hooded lids. “Why don’t you, then?”

  It’s a simple question. Usually, he doesn’t have any qualms about kissing me, especially not in public. So the fact he’s holding back right now strikes me as suspicious.

  He shrugs against me. “Nickayla thinks she’s hooking us up. And considering all she’s been through in the past year or so, I want to let her. It’ll make her happy to know she did something good for me, when normally I thwart her efforts.”

  He kisses the top of my head and I smile, content.

  It’s clear how much he cares about the people in his life, and I can’t help but adore him for it. I have to admit, his kindness is extremely attractive. I just want to walk out of this mall right now, take him home, and have my way with him. As of now, I have yet to take control in the bedroom, but I think perhaps it’s about time to show him just what kinds of tricks I have up my sleeve.

  “I can’t wait to get you home and not-kiss you.” I grin, feeling his erection against my belly the minute those words leave my mouth.

  “I can’t wait to get you in bed and
make you regret saying that. I plan on kissing every inch of that lovely body of yours, and you’ll never not-kiss me again.”

  …

  THIS IS A SCENE RIGHT out of a horror movie.

  Mom and Daddy are sitting across from me and Brody, stern, but confused, looks on their faces. It’s a situation I’ve never been in before, and I don’t even know how to approach it.

  Brody and I talked about it on the short ride back to the house. How would we ask their permission for me to go? How would we present ourselves to them? How would we convince them it’s a good idea to let us go away for an entire week, when they barely know Brody, let alone any of his friends? How would we handle my father? Let’s face it, he’s a much harder sell than Mom is.

  He didn’t want to say we were friends with benefits, because we’re both more than that. And although the title isn’t official yet—I don’t know why that is, but whatever—we decided it’d be best to say we’re dating. Exclusively. Which hopefully we would be after the trip.

  My parents keep giving me the evil eye, like this is something I planned the minute I asked if Brody could stay here. When I saw he needed help, I didn’t have any ulterior motives. I just wanted to help him. There was nothing on my mind besides making sure he and his siblings had a place to rest their heads, and people who cared about taking care of them.

  My dad, however, doesn’t see it that way. He thinks I orchestrated this whole plot to move my boyfriend in for easy access, and now I want to manipulate him into letting me go away for the week. And although Mom knows that’s not true—Hell, Ray Charles could see that it’s not true—my dad is being extremely difficult.

  “So you want permission to take my daughter to the mountains for an entire week?” Daddy asks, glaring at Brody. “Why on earth should I let her go?”

  “Gabriel,” Mom interrupts, but Daddy cuts her off.

  “Anastasia! She wants to go away to spend a week with a handful of other teenagers! With no adult supervision!”

  Brody raises his hand solemnly, like he wants to say something. My father shoots him a look, but Brody proceeds anyway. “Um, technically, I’m an adult. I just turned eighteen in January. Also my friend Colin is eighteen, and my friend’s boyfriend Hayden is twenty two. Nothing inappropriate would be happening, and there will be adult supervision.”

  I wince. He probably should have left out that bit about Hayden.

  “Twenty two! Now there’s a chance of there being alcohol there? No. No way.” My dad stares at me. “And why do you want to go anyway? I thought you two were just friends. It sounds like a couples’ getaway to me.”

  I nod slowly. “It is. Brody and I—we care about each other very much. We’ve been dating for a few weeks now. Mom knows; she let him borrow the Denali this weekend so he could take me out. This can’t be that much of a surprise.”

  Mom gives Daddy a nod. She’s always been a champion for me being a teenager, moving forward after Maddox, and doing things I’ve never done before. If she knew exactly how intense things were with me and Brody, she’d defend us even more. I make it a point to talk to her about it before we leave, so she knows I’m not keeping anything from her.

  “Gabe, honey, I think we should let her go. When has she given us any reason not to trust her?”

  “Never. But the guys she chooses are another story. I don’t want to have another Maddox Bradley on our hands.”

  I feel Brody’s gaze on me at my dad’s words, and I tense up. Through tear-filled eyes, I stare at my father and shake my head. He just took this shit too far.

  “That’s not fair and you know it,” I choke out. My mom looks like she wants to say something, and I shake my head. “Don’t even worry about it, Mom. I won’t go.” I turn to face my dad. “But remember how you just acted when I decide not to ask you for permission next time.”

  I shove away from the table, but Brody’s hand holds me in place. If only he knew how badly I want to cry into his chest right now. But doing that would lead to questions, and I’m almost certain the secret I’ve been keeping will make him see me in a different light. What happened was mostly my fault, and I know it, and hardly anyone in my family has been able to look at me the same way since.

  “Gabriel, that was uncalled for. She’ll be eighteen in a matter of months. Pretty soon she won’t have to ask us for permission. So the fact she even did is huge, and you should respect that.” She pauses to give me a reassuring smile. “Sabrina has never given us any reason not to trust her. She gets fabulous grades, she holds a good job, she does more than her fair share around the house. I don’t think what she’s asking is unreasonable.”

  “You’re giving him too much credit.”

  “How? He works, goes to school, has taken care of two kids since he was a kid his damn self! I saw his most recent report card; he’s getting straight A’s despite his circumstances. He treats her well, I’ve seen it. I’m not giving him any credit he hasn’t rightfully earned, and I think she should go.”

  My dad jerks away from the table and storms out of the room.

  “You can go, Sabrina,” she says. “Just let me know when you leave and when you’ll be back, and if you need anything for the trip.”

  I nod, but somehow I feel like I’ve lost instead of winning the standoff with my parents. They’ve always been a united front, but lately, ever since Maddox, it’s been me and Mom against Daddy. We’re supposed to be a family, but it hasn’t felt like one in a while.

  I hate this. I hate when things like this happen, because my decisions divide them right down the middle. I don’t want them to fight over me, especially not over something like this.

  These arguments always end the same way. Daddy talks to Mom about how she undermines his authority as my father, and Mom talks about the fact that he works excessive hours and is never here. It’s fair enough. She’s the one who raised us, who put her dreams and wishes on hold to take care of us. And she’s the one who has to deal with the repercussions of his totalitarian style of parenting while he’s gone.

  With a reassuring squeeze of my hand, Brody lets out a relieved sigh. I wish I could share in his relief, but I know my parents are about to be arguing for the remainder of the night over this. As soon as my mom has left the room as well, Brody grabs my chair by its legs and drags me toward him.

  The sound of a door slamming upstairs makes me jump. I can hear them yelling, but it’s not clear enough for me to hear precisely what’s being said. The fact they’re arguing in the first place is enough to make me regret asking them anything, period.

  “Dove, it’s okay,” Brody says.

  I want to believe him, but I can’t.

  Leaning my head against his shoulder, I wonder what the Hell we just did.

  NINETEEN

  I WAS SURPRISED THIS MORNING when Brody told me he wanted to stop by his old house. He and the kids are running low on clothes, and he wanted to get as much as possible while his dad was at work. Besides that, he wants to get some more weather-appropriate clothing for our trip at the end of the week. He seemed reluctant to tell me, but I’m happy he did so I could go with him. I wouldn’t want him to go alone. Plus, I really want to see what his childhood home looks like.

  Of course, I use this as an excuse to finally drive the Denali.

  As soon as I get off of work and I know he’s off work as well, we pile into the Denali and take a trip to the past.

  I wonder what I’m going to find there.

  The neighborhood he’s from is one of the suburban areas of Harlow. I’ve never been here before, and after our date the other night, I wonder how much of Harlow I’ve been missing by staying in only the area I know.

  Everything in the area draws my attention. Children ride their bikes down the sidewalk, neighbors wave hello to each other. There’re even a couple of people talking to each other over the fence of their yards. It’s something straight out of a movie, honestly. It doesn’t even seem real.

  I turn to look at him and smile, waiting f
or him to get out of the car. Instead of doing that, though, he tosses his head back and sighs rather loudly. Cutting my eyes at him, I wait for him to speak. He stares up at the ceiling of the vehicle before finally turning his head in my direction and glancing at me.

  His entire face is expressionless, but his eyes are haunted. They always have been just a little bit, but I see it so much more now than I ever have. I’ll admit, it scares me a little bit.

  “I don’t want to go in there, Dove,” he murmurs.

  Oh, my beautiful boy.

  I knew this was coming, and although it’s not funny, I laugh. I can see how much he tried to be brave, but there’s no escaping ghosts of the past. I know that all too well.

  I nod. “I know. I can tell. You want me to go in for you?”

  I see the war in his facial expressions. He wants me to go in for him because that means he won’t have to. But at the same time, he doesn’t want me to go, and that’s the part I don’t really understand. There are things he hasn’t told me, things he hasn’t explained to me, and I wish he would, because I would understand him so much better.

  “Would you?”

  I smile. There isn’t a single thing in this world I wouldn’t do for Brody Durham.

  “Sure. Just tell me what you need and where to find it. You know I’d do anything for you, babe.”

  He nods, and proceeds to give me all the instructions I need to get inside and back out without any issues or having to call his phone.

  I hop out of the car and grab the duffel bag he brought from home so I can do what he needs.

  Standing outside of Brody’s home is incredibly surreal. This is the place he grew up in, the place he’d come to after school and work. It’s lovely, really.

  However, I can’t find it in me to fathom why he’d leave it behind. I know his father lives here—he’s told me that much—and this was the last place he got to be with his mother. So why?