Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3)

by Wendy L. Wilson

  Grabbing his hand which is balled into a fist in front of him as his grandpa rattles the door knob, I try my best to ease his mind. “It’s ok. I have to let them know I didn’t run away. At least they’ll know I’m safe and I’m sure if you explain…”

  Click, click and the door tears open. His grandpa steps up into the camper in one quick stride that makes the whole thing shift and wobble. My heart drops as I take in his expression as well as the one on my father’s face, who appears in the doorway immediately following. Evan doesn’t say a word and although I know I should come to his rescue as he rescued me last night, my mouth is cemented shut in panic. His grandpa’s jaw tenses as he looks at Evan. For a minute, I’m almost positive he’s going to grab him up by the earlobe and drag him out of the camper like you see on some of those old family shows that are meant to be funny, but I’m sure that’s where parents get all their ideas from.

  I open my mouth to speak, but his grandpa beats me to it.

  “Boy, you better start explaining now.”

  “I…I…” Evan’s mouth draws open in an attempt to explain, but as he looks at me, I can see plain as day that he has no clue what to say. How could he?

  I showed up here last night, unannounced, not explaining what happened to me, but just needing a friend.

  “Piper!” Dad’s tone comes out firm and demanding. That without a doubt tells me that Trent didn’t say a word. “What is going on? Were you here all night?”

  I step forward, placing my hands behind my back as I fiddle my fingers together to relieve the fear and anxiety stirring in my conscience; Evan had nothing to do with what happened, so I cannot let him get into trouble.

  “Yes, I did,” I say, glancing down as a flame of shame washes across my face. I look back up, watching my father’s face shift from anger to surprise and his grandpa’s eyes flashing with disappointment. Thinking quickly, I open my mouth back up to elaborate and to remove any wrongdoing from Evan’s part. I can’t let him take the blame for anything. “I had a nightmare last night and it scared me bad.” I gulp, my mind going a mile a minute as I spin as good of a lie as I can. “I wasn’t even thinking. I just ran out of the cabin since everyone was asleep and when I saw Evan’s light, I figured talking to a friend would get my mind off of it.” Glancing back and forth, I’m met with a blank stare from Dad and a skeptical expression from Mr. Jansen.

  “That still does not explain what you are doing waking up alone in a boy’s room the next day, young lady. Your mom and I have been worried sick. Do you even know what you put us through?”

  “Evan, start talking son!” his grandpa snaps, and my stomach begins to churn with dread.

  “I just thought…” Evan’s eyes knit together as he glances at me for a moment in question.

  “You look at me and start explaining!” his grandpa doesn’t relent; I have to add more.

  I hate lying and making up a story. One thing my parents have no tolerance for is lying, but I cannot tell the truth. How can I sit here and tell three guys what happened; I don’t want anyone to know as long as I live. They’ll think I’m dirty or blame me.

  “Daddy. Mr. Jansen…” They both look to me, giving me their attention, yet still holding the same expressions as before, so I go on, “None of this was Evan’s fault at all. The first thing he told me when I knocked last night is that it was too late for me to come over, but I insisted. I was afraid he would laugh at me and call me a girl if I told him I was scared of a dream.” His grandpa glances at Evan with a bit of a chuckle and my heart eases. “He let me come in for only a minute after I begged and made him feel bad.” Taking a quick gaze at the Monopoly board sprawled out on the table, I throw more out there, “Yeah, luckily he had some games and I calmed down, but the dream really scared me so when he asked me to leave, I begged to stay just a little longer.” I point over to the bench at the side of the kitchen table that has a scrunched-up pillow in the corner. “So when Evan dozed off, I laid down on the bed. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but before I knew it, I heard someone pounding on the door.”

  Pulling my hands in front of me, I work my fingers together nervously and wait to see the outcome of my performance. I feel awful!

  Dad sighs, glancing at Mr. Jansen as they share a look that almost says that they believe me.

  “Oh Piper, sweetie, why didn’t you just wake me or your mom…or even Trent?”

  My back becomes stiff as a board on that name, my heart picks up pace pounding in my chest like a freight train and my teeth clamp down. Dad moves forward, looking sympathetic, but terror engulfs me. Does he know? Is it written all over my face, now that he brought up my cousin’s name?

  “Honey, relax.” He grabs my hand and pulls me forward into a hug; my body remains rigid as my arms stay slack at my sides. “I’m not mad. We were just worried, that’s all. Now, let’s go tell your mom that you are safe and sound.”

  He pulls me forward, nudging me gently with his hand at the base of my neck. Looking over my shoulder as I brush by Mr. Jansen, I lock eyes with Evan. His face is a shadow of confusion, sympathy and understanding, yet under it all I see gratefulness.

  “Evan, let’s go. I need your help with a leaky roof today.”

  “Bye Evan,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

  A small smile emerges across his lips. “You too.” He clears his throat and looks back and forth, clearly regretting his choice of words. “Thanks for whooping my butt at Monopoly. Next game, you won’t be so lucky.”

  I giggle, stepping down out of the camper. Giving one last goodbye, I barely lift my hand before turning to follow Dad back to our home away from home.

  “Hey Piper!”

  Dread begins to fill my body, starting in my toes like a spray of water filling up a bucket and rising at an unstoppable force, but it stops as his voice meets my ears.

  “I’ll be down by the dock later getting in a swim…maybe you can come out and join me sometime?” Evan calls out.

  Not even wanting to ask permission or think about it, I spin around; just being around him puts me at ease. Last night, all he did was focus on playing the game. After further inspection of my stinging palms, I noticed they were all skinned up, my hair was a mess and my eyes were puffy, yet Evan never asked a single question. Plus, no one sucks that bad at a board game; I know he let me win.

  “Ok.” I cast a small smile, that I cannot quite feel through the numbness in my heart and then look up at Dad. “If that’s alright?”

  Dad nods as I look back at Evan, a cloud of fear and confusion festering up inside of me on what to tell my parents.

  “Piper…” Evan calls out again, shifting his eyes quickly to his grandpa and back to my dad before going on, “Come out with a smile and I might just have to toss you in,” he says in a teasing tone that helps to ease my worry some.

  Although, my mind is skipping over walking into my family’s cabin and having to face whatever discussions may come up, Evan manages to make me smile. However, in the back of my head the same thing keeps repeating over and over…I wish I had made up the part about having a nightmare last night, because I have a feeling the nightmare has only begun.

  “PIPER, HEY…YOU OK?”

  She shakes her head quickly as if she’s brushing off a bad memory. Glancing down at the picture, I’m well aware of what that day was to her; especially the night prior.

  “Oh yeah…I was just thinking about it.”

  Dipping my chin, I narrow my eyes as she looks off into space; a dazed expression that I had come to know quite well, creeping over every feature of her face.

  “You gonna be ok?” I ask in a serious tone before trying to flip it into something playful, “…because I can totally give you mouth-to-mouth.”

  It’s not completely a joke, I guess. We had our own version of mouth-to-mouth when she would slip into a fog of painful memories; the way she’d watch my mouth and each of my breaths move over my lips when we would get even semi-intimate; observing, studying…memorizing. It becam
e a pretty natural thing for us.

  She finally looks up, rolling her eyes dramatically and sticking out her tongue in a thirsty manner.

  “Noooo,” she draws out, bringing more emphasis to her eye roll. “I do have some control of it after all these years.”

  The thud of my heart leaps over one full chord at her words, because this is something I want to know; I need to know. However, I’m not going to be the one that pries. Fisting my hands against the wood floor behind me, I suck in a breath and wait.

  “What?”

  I shake my head, translucent in my curiosity. “Nothing.”

  “Ok what do you want to know?” Her shoulders fall in surrender and her face goes flat.

  Shrugging, I carry on with no urgency, but keep my eyes glued to her face. “I don’t care. Tell me whatever.” The corners of my lips arch, thinking of all the smartass things I could slide in there, but this time, I’ll let it slide.

  A snap and thump calls out and I look down, watching Piper’s delicate fingers flip to the back of the album, skipping an entire portion of it. A familiar sensation tugs at me. Some of the pictures in these albums are not going to bring back good memories. I comb through my thoughts quickly, calling up any fun times we had so that I can talk about that rather than anything she’s thinking. Staring over at the deep, far off look in her eyes, I want to grab her hand, tear the memories from her mind or rip Trent in two, where ever he is now. Breathe with me, Piper.

  “Hey…” I start but she decides to talk at the same time.

  “I was so glad to see you out on that dock later that day.”

  This takes me by surprise. I know she’s referring to the picture we just saw a moment ago, but for her to talk about that out loud, now…after all this time, and with everything that came between us, all I can do is trip over my jaw which is currently laying on the floor.

  I let her go on, not moving an inch.

  “Did I ever tell you that I never saw him again after that day?” She looks at me and I nod.

  She told me; it was a topic that she avoided at any cost if someone asked where Trent was. It was as if that question sent her spiraling into another time and place. Myself, I always tried to avoid asking anything about her family or home life. I had my own suspicious after that night.

  She gazes down at the album which now rests on an old family portrait that looks like it was taken in a trailer at a carnival. I don’t recognize any of the four people except for possibly the little boy who looks to be about ten years old. He looks just like Piper when she was younger.

  “Mom said he asked to go back to Aunt Kate’s house when they woke up that morning.”

  I direct my attention back to her immediately. She shrugs, keeping her eyes trained on her hands, the same as she did when she was a kid and would get nervous.

  “Anyways…” She draws her brows together. “I was so scared he was going to tell Mom and that she was going to come back, you know…asking questions or getting mad…but no one ever asked…”

  Gulping, she looks down at the album, obviously with her head and heart on a different picture than the one before her. I want to tell her to stop thinking about it; that it was a long time ago and that it’s not important or not good for her to dredge up all those painful memories, but another part of me thinks, maybe this is what she needs. From my talk with Abby the other day, I gather she hasn’t confided in her and considering she is her best friend, that leads me to believe she’s never talked to anyone. That is a hell of a load to carry for all these years.

  So I give her everything, imploring her to go on through eyes that desperately would give anything to carry the weight of this on my shoulders. There is still so much we have to catch up on, and I still need to fill her in on how my asshole brother ever found out about the whole thing, but for now, I’ll listen.

  I move my hands over hers, capturing them as she fidgets and giving them a gentle squeeze to implore her to go on.

  And she does…

  “I just never thought anyone would understand…” I watch her carefully, studying the profile of her face as she looks off into space, dead ahead as if maybe the whole day is replaying for her. “I guess I always just blamed myself, then with how Mom reacted once she finally found out.” She lets out a heavy sigh; my heart aches for her. I hate that I wasn’t there when it all came out. “She was awful after she found out.” Piper clears her throat, glancing at me hesitantly and there’s no doubt that she’s thinking about the very last day we saw each other, because that is what is on my mind right now as well.

  I keep my eyes trained on her, hoping she’ll go on; wanting to get the discussion out of the way, but if I’ve learned one thing with Piper, it is to keep my mouth shut. She gives me a warm smile, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking, so I give her a gentle nudge, nodding my head slightly to urge her on.

  As if she can read me like a book, Piper opens her mouth and begins to speak again with tears welling up in her eyes and it damn near breaks me in half. “You know, as soon as we walked through that door and Dad brought up what Trent did to me that day…you know the day he found out…” She pauses as if I don’t know exactly what she’s talking about; as if that wasn’t the most horrific day of my life, the day I lost her. “She refused to listen to everything Dad had to say. I mean it was an all-out war, right there in front of me after I had already faced…” She squeezes her eyes shut, concentrating. It’s no secret that this is hard for her to talk about; it’s hard for both of us.

  Glancing down hurriedly, half in a panic to find something to deter her thoughts from the day everything crumpled before us, my eyes wander back to the picture before her. Damn that little girl looks familiar.

  Before I can open my mouth, Piper shakes her head and starts again, “Anyways…” She snickers, completely insincere and so obvious that she’s trying to cover up her emotions. Tapping her finger against the photo album, she looks back at me. “So, yeah, I was so happy to see you out that day. I thought for sure your grandpa was going to kill you when he found me in your camper.”

  I smile, joining her on that memory. It’s so clear, that I can almost feel the sun’s searing touch move across my skin; I can nearly see her as she walked across the ground, right down to the beach, with a smile on her face. I knew she was happy to see me; I was happy to see her. As soon as she left with her dad that day, I thought for sure her ass was grass.

  “I thought the same thing,” I say with a chuckle.

  “So whatever happened?”

  My chest vibrates, thinking back to the conversation I had with Grandpa. It definitely went beyond the typical birds-and-bee’s discussion that most parents have with their children. Grandpa always cuts to the chase; no use beating around the bush, I guess. “Actually, he told me if I wasn’t going to keep my pecker in my pocket, that I better damn well wrap the sucker.”

  Piper cracks up, tossing her arms around her stomach and swaying backwards on a breathy laugh that catches in her throat. My smile grows as I watch her happiness, relieved that this entire walk down memory lane can go in a new direction.

  Snickering to myself, I go on, “Oh he was pissed off alright…said that if he ever caught me doing that again, he’d beat me within an inch of my life.”

  She laughs harder, clearly enjoying the shit I got that day. Come to think of it, I recall getting reamed about every chance Grandpa got. It was always, ‘Get your ass to bed, Evan and don’t even think about sneaking any girls in that camper’, or ‘How’d you sleep, son or did you stay up late, sneaking some girl in there.’ He literally acted like I had been doing that for years; like I had been caught countless times with some girl in my camper; like it hadn’t just been innocent and someone I was around all the time…my best friend.

  “Yeah, I don’t think he was ever fully convinced that we didn’t do something in there.”

  Piper’s mouth drops open, “Are you serious?! We were twelve! It’s not like we would’ve even known what we were doi
ng.” We both laugh, but Piper quickly fades off, looking as though she’s thinking way too much into that thought.

  I act fast, “Who on earth is this?” Pointing down at the picture, I finally draw her attention to the family portrait that looks to be about thirty plus years old, judging by the kids lame and pretty damn dorky attire. “I know I’ve met some of your family, or at least seen them here through the years, but that face just looks familiar for a different reason.” I tap my index finger over the little brown haired, green eyed girls face.

  Her face falls to the picture and quickly scrunches up with concentration, a deep line between her brows and her piercing brown eyes staring at it as if the little girl may just jump up to tell her exactly who she is.

  “Well,” she draws out her word, possibly still trying to figure it out herself. Maybe she doesn’t know who that is. “I know the little boy is Dad and these are my grandparents.” Her finger moves across to the older couple above the kids. “So I’d have to assume that the little girl is Dad’s sister.” She sighs looking over at me quickly. “I think she died when she was little or maybe ran away or… I’m not really sure. I know he has a sister. He would always tell me stories about when they were growing up, but he usually changed the subject if I would ask, ‘where is she’ or ‘can I meet her’. I gave up a long time ago asking about her. He has pictures of her up in the house, but it’s just a closed-off topic.”

  I press my lips together, drawing my brows in. That’s odd. “Hmmmm, she looks awfully familiar, doesn’t she?” Staring down at the picture, I thumb through every single thought in my mind trying to process where I could know that face from. I look back up at Piper, considering for a moment that maybe I could be seeing just a bit of that little girl’s features in someone that has been on my mind for nearly half my life. After all, similarities do tend to run in a gene pool, but as I study the picture, looking over the deep dark brown tint of her hair and the bronze color of her skin that looks as if she spent every day out at the beach, I come up empty. Piper shares far more traits with her mother than that of her dad, Pete. She has pale ivory skin, jet black hair and even her eyes are a completely different shade. Hmmm, Pete, did you ever consider that your wife may have been fooling around with the mailman?