“Where’s my brother?” he’d growled.
Lilly shifted, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder, and in the process more of her cleavage had come into view. “Bathroom.”
Angus only grunted.
He’d gone into the kitchen—which had only taken three steps since the trailer wasn’t that big—and opened the fridge to grab a beer, doing everything in his power not to look Lilly’s way. He couldn’t stand the bitch, but even he had to admit she was a hot piece of ass. It made sense why Axl wanted to bang her, but what Angus couldn’t figure out was why his brother insisted on spending so much time with the annoying bitch.
He’d popped the tab on his can and lifted it to his lips, his gaze straying toward Lilly’s cleavage as he gulped it down. She was still watching him, a sneer on her face that said she understood what he was doing.
“Do you mind?” she’d snapped. “I could do without the constant eye-fucking. It’s so disgusting. I’m dating your brother.”
Angus lowered the can, let out an obnoxious burp, and had said, “You don’t like it, you can get the fuck out.”
Lilly rolled her eyes, but Axl came into the room before she’d been able to say anything else.
“Hey, man,” he’d said, patting Angus on the back as he passed.
Axl had barely looked his way, his focus too intent on Lilly. When he reached the couch, he grabbed her legs so he could take a seat, depositing them on his lap once he had. He left his hand on her knee, his thumb rubbing small circles, and Angus had looked away in disgust.
That was when he’d noticed the pamphlet.
He’d scooped it up off the small dining room table, scowling, and waved it as he turned to face his brother. “What the fuck is this?”
“What’s it look like?” Axl had said, his tone laidback. Unconcerned.
“Looks like an ad for a fuckin’ college.”
“So, you can read,” Lilly had sneered.
Angus took a step toward her. “Watch yourself.”
“Or what?” Lilly sat up, her legs still on Axl’s lap. “You going to hit me, Angus? Like your mom…”
She’d thrown the last statement in just to piss him off, and Angus had known it.
It had worked, too.
“You fuckin’ bitch.” He’d pointed the pamphlet, now balled in his fist, toward the door. “Get the fuck out. You hear me? Get out!”
“This is Axl’s home, too,” Lilly shot back, “which means I don’t have to leave if he wants me here.” She’d put her hand on Axl’s thigh, so close to his dick that he’d shifted. Her gaze was focused on Angus when she said, “Do you want me to leave, Axl?”
“Will you two cut it out?” Axl shoved his girlfriend’s legs off his lap and stood. “I’m getting’ fuckin’ tired of hearin’ you two yell at each other every damn time Lilly’s here. She’s my girlfriend, Angus, you don’t like it, don’t talk to her.” He’d turned to Lilly. “He’s my brother, and that ain’t never gonna change.”
Lilly’s eyes had flashed when she looked up at Axl. “You’re going to take his side after he just called me a bitch?”
“I ain’t takin’ his side, I’m tellin’ you how it is. Angus has always had my back. Always. You know all the shit our mom put us through. He was there for me when no one else was. I ain’t gonna forget that no matter how much you don’t like him. If you can’t deal with that, maybe it’s time you got on your way.”
Angus had flashed Lilly a smile and taken a sip of his beer.
She’d gritted her teeth and stood, her gaze moving from Angus to Axl, finally settling on her boyfriend. “I’ve been there for you, too. Don’t forget that.”
Axl had sighed. “I know. I do. But that don’t change things. Angus is my brother, and he always will be.” He paused, waiting for her to respond, and when some of the anger melted from her face, he’d reached out and grabbed her by the elbow so he could pull her closer. “Come here.”
Lilly had obeyed, her gaze intent on Axl as he wrapped his arms around her. She stood on the tips of her toes, so she could press her lips to his, and Angus had turned away. He’d tossed the crumpled pamphlet onto the table, muttering under his breath as he moved to the couch. Axl and Lilly had still been kissing, and neither seemed to notice when he changed the channel and turned the television up. Not that it mattered, because less than a minute later they were heading to Axl’s room, still kissing and already working on each other’s clothes.
The weeks had gone by, and things hadn’t really changed. Angus and Lilly still butted heads every time they were around each other, and Axl still remained infuriatingly neutral. He showed up one day with a lily tattooed on his right bicep, and Angus had wanted to punch something. Even worse was how they constantly talked about the future. About college, about getting a place together, about careers and marriage and all kinds of crazy shit that had seemed more like a fairy tale to Angus than anything that was actually attainable. Especially for people like them. Trash.
Angus had taken every chance he got to chip away not just at his brother’s relationship, but at his confidence, too. Always laughing whenever Axl mentioned college, always making snide comments about Lilly. It had worked, and eventually they’d broken up after coming to blows about the future. She’d gotten scholarships and found a job and would be leaving the area shortly after graduation, and she’d wanted Axl to go with her. That had ultimately been what ended things. Axl had never left Tennessee before, and obliterating the little bit of confidence his brother had left was easier than Angus liked to admit.
“What you gonna do in West Virginia?” he remembered growling at his brother.
Axl had been sitting at the small table in their trailer, filling out forms that would give him the financial aid he needed to leave Angus for good, and he hadn’t even looked up when he said, “Go to school.”
“School.” Angus snorted even though what he’d really wanted to do was hit something. “Dumb. That’s what that is. You’re gonna get all the way there and get stuck. Then what? You think I got the money to drive up there and bail your ass out?”
Axl’s hand had stopped in the middle of writing something, and he’d lifted his head so he could meet his brother’s gaze. “You think I’m gonna fail.”
Again, Angus had snorted, but this time he’d waved his arm, indicating the shabby room they were sitting in. “You know many people from trailer parks who make something of themselves? I sure as hell don’t, and it don’t make sense to waste time like that. You graduate and you get yourself a job. That’s what you gotta do. Forget all this fairy tale bullshit about goin’ to college. We ain’t the college kind of people.”
His brother had set the pen down. “That what you really think of me?”
“It ain’t what I think,” Angus had said, “it’s the fuckin’ truth. Trash don’t stop bein’ trash just ’cause it falls outta the garbage can.”
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, but it hadn’t mattered. Angus had seen the hope in his brother’s eyes slip away.
Axl looked away from his brother and pushed his chair out so he could answer the door. It was Lilly, of course, and she’d had a stack of other things with her. Angus had watched in silence as she set them down, smoking and waiting with knots in his stomach to find out what would happen next.
“I have the application, but you missed the first deadline, so the fee is higher.” Lilly was focused on the brochure in front of her, her long, dark hair covering her face, so she hadn’t seen Axl’s expression. “It’s forty now. You have that, right?” She looked up, then froze. “What? What is it?”
“I ain’t sure ’bout this.”
Lilly’s face clouded over when she glanced toward Angus, who’d shot her a smirk even though his insides were still in knots.
She swore before focusing on Axl again. “We talked about this. You can do it. You’re smart, and you’re a hard worker. Don’t waste your life staying here.”
“I just don’t think it’s all
that realistic, is all,” Axl had said. “We’re trailer trash. That’s all.”
“That’s not all I am,” Lilly shot back. “You don’t have to be either!”
Axl had taken a step away from her, his expression slightly pained. “Don’t think I got much of a choice.”
Lilly had stared at him for a moment, anger and disappointment warring against one another. The anger won out, and she’d spun to face Angus. “You did this, didn’t you? What the hell is wrong with you? Axl could make something of himself. He could be more! Why would you want to hold him back like this?”
Angus took a drag off his cigarette, sucking in a mouthful of smoke as he’d stared at her. When he blew it out, he’d said, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ’bout. I’m just lookin’ out for my brother. It’s what I’ve always done. What I’ll always do. Just ’cause I mean more to him than you do don’t mean you gotta be so pissy.”
“Fuck you, Angus,” Lilly had spit at him. “You can lie to yourself and Axl all you want, but I know the truth. You’re a sad, pathetic, miserable person, and you want your brother to be the same way. Well, I won’t sit around and watch him turn into a carbon copy of you.” That was when she’d spun to face Axl. “This is it. You have to choose. Me or Angus.”
Axl’s expression hardened, and Angus had smiled to himself as his unease slipped away. Of all the things she could have said, that was the one he’d wanted to hear the most. It mimicked everything Angus had been telling Axl all along. Solidified the idea that Lilly was trying to tear them apart.
“I ain’t gonna choose,” Axl had said, his tone steely. “Angus is blood. Ain’t nothing stronger than that.”
Lilly’s anger melted away then, and her shoulders had sagged. “Have a good life with Angus, Axl. It’s going to be rough and sad, and you deserve so much more, but I can’t fight with you about this anymore.”
With that, she’d headed for the door. She hadn’t paused when she reached it—hadn’t looked back, even—and for a few seconds after she disappeared, Axl had stood staring at the door almost like he was in shock. Angus could still remember the expression on his face. Up to that point, he’d only seen it one other time, and that was when their mother had died.
It hadn’t taken long for Axl to snap out of it, though, and once he had, he turned to the stack of college brochures Lilly had left on the table. He’d scooped them up and dumped them in the trash, then gone to his room and shut the door. After that, Axl had never brought up college again.
“Angus?” Naya said, jolting him from his thoughts.
He shook his head to clear the memory. “Sorry. Got to thinkin’ ’bout the past.”
“What about?” she asked instead of repeating her question. “You don’t really talk about it.”
“My brother,” he said. “I took care of him when we was kids, and after our momma died, but before that, too.”
“You lost your mom when you were young, too?” Naya gave a sympathetic frown. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t gotta be,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “She was nothin’ like your momma. Didn’t take care of us. Hit us. Hell, I’m pretty sure she didn’t even like us.”
Naya sat up straight, her eyes wide. “That’s awful. I’m sorry, Angus.”
“Don’t gotta be sorry,” he told her for the second time, smiling, his tone soft. “Axl and me had each other, and it was enough.”
“What about your dad?” Naya asked. “Was he around?”
“Left before I was born. Although, I ain’t sure he was ever really ‘round to begin with. He was married, had another family, and my momma was stupid enough to think he’d stick with her if she got knocked up.”
“Didn’t you have anyone else?” she asked, her brows furrowing. “Grandparents? Aunts or uncles?”
“Nothin’ like that,” Angus told her. “Just Axl. Least before the zombies. After, things got better.”
“That’s strange,” she replied then shook her head. “I had plenty of family to look after me.”
“Grandparents?” he asked, even though she’d mentioned it before.
“Yeah. Even a great grandma when I was really little. She was six when the virus killed her parents. A few other survivors found her on her own and saved her, and eventually they ended up at the shelter where she lived until she died. It’s how she met my great grandpa. He was ten when it all happened. I had aunts and uncles and cousins. I mean, there weren’t a lot of options, so I was pretty much related to everyone in the shelter.” Her shoulders slumped like a heavy weight had just settled on them. “And now they’re all gone.”
Until that moment, Angus hadn’t fully grasped what she’d lost when they had to leave their shelter. It hadn’t been just safety. It was everything she’d ever known. It was a real family, not just friends who’d become like family. Naya had probably had to watch them all die one by one, too. Angus had thought his own losses were gut-wrenching, but they now seemed insignificant compared to what this girl had gone through, and all by the age of fourteen.
“Was they alive when you left your shelter?” he asked, his tone almost hesitant. He wanted to know more about her, but he didn’t want to force her to talk about it if she wasn’t ready.
“Not all of them,” she told him. “We lost people over the years. Some back when my dad died, then others here and there. Not all of them outside the shelter, either. I already told you about my sister, and my grandma died in her sleep when she was seventy-eight. I also had an aunt who died in childbirth. Although I don’t really remember that because I was little.” Her frown grew more exaggerated. “By the time we had to leave the shelter, there were only fifteen of us.”
Angus thought over his years on the road, to all the times he’d struggled to find shelter and the many nights he’d slept curled up in cramped, windowless rooms. The thought of having to find shelter every night for so many people was overwhelming. It almost made him grateful that he’d been on his own for so long.
“That’s a lot of people to have to keep safe,” he said, unable to comprehend just how hard it had been.
“It was.” Naya looked down, her hands twisting in her lap. “We lost my cousin on the first day. Michael. He was only five.” Her gaze was still on her hands when her lips twitched with a ghost of a smile. “He used to wake me up in the morning by throwing himself on top of me. I can still hear his laugh.”
Angus swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. “He go fast?”
The girl lifted her gaze to his, holding it for a second before saying, “We were traveling through a city when he got ahead of us. A wolf got him.”
It wasn’t exactly an answer, but Angus understood. The animal had probably dragged the boy away, which meant Naya had no clue what had become of him. Hopefully, it was over quick.
“His mom was gone the next morning when we woke up.” She let out a long sigh. “It still makes me mad when I think about how she just left. No note, no goodbye. She just gave up.”
“Losin’ a kid can just ’bout kill you,” Angus told her.
“You survived it, and so did my mom.”
“Not everybody’s strong enough to get through it. You gotta have something else to cling to. Something else to make hangin’ on worth it.” He waved his hand in her direction, ignoring the throb in his neck and shoulder. “Your momma had you. I had my wife.”
Naya’s shoulders slumped. “I guess the rest of us just weren’t enough for my aunt.”
“Don’t mean she didn’t love you,” he said.
“It feels like that, though.”
“Yeah.” He exhaled, shook his head, feeling suddenly exhausted. “Sorry you had to go through all that.”
“Me too,” she whispered then straightened her shoulders again. “Which is why I have to find the other shelter. I need to do it for them. Live for them. Keep our family going.”
“We’ll find it,” he promised, saying the words not just for her, but for himself as well.
After the
ir discussion, Angus gave up the idea of trying to talk Naya into staying at the cabin. It would have only been a temporary solution, anyway. The place was comfortable and good for a pit stop, but it wouldn’t last. He’d seen too many other supposedly secure places fall to be tricked into thinking the cabin would sustain them. They’d stay for two more days, giving them both time to heal, rest up, and gather water and food, then they’d be on their way.
Once the rabbit was cooked, Naya had taken it to the kitchen to prepare a stew, insisting Angus rest. He’d wanted to argue—she was still limping, after all—but he bit his tongue and stayed where he was, both because he really was worn out and because of the determined expression on the girl’s face.
He watched her from the living room, which was close enough to the kitchen that he could make out most of her actions as she shredded rabbit meat, and chopped onions and katniss root, as well as some other plants he couldn’t identify. Her movements were deft and practiced, and as always, it had him marveling at how much older she seemed.
He’d been an old soul at fourteen as well, although in a different way. Like Naya, though, it had been out of necessity. Angus was only thirteen when his brother, Axl, was born, and their mother had never had much time for either of her children. Pretty much since the day she brought Axl home from the hospital, it had been up to Angus to make sure his brother was fed and changed. He’d done it willingly, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t bitter and angry about having to give up his childhood. His anger hadn’t been directed at his brother, but at their mother, and it went a long way toward creating the man he’d become. A mean man who trusted no one, who went through life keeping people at arm’s length because he assumed they would be as unreliable as the people who’d brought him into this world. A hard man who thought love was a fairy tale.
Broken World | Novel | Angus Page 29