I made Brooklyn feel safe. I knew that. I couldn’t let her navigate dangerous and uncharted waters on her own. I had to throw her a life preserver.
“I’m warped too, Brook. It’s not just you,” I confessed in a hushed tone. She stopped sniffling and looked at me with emotion filling her wide hazel pools.
“Y-You…” she stammered without saying much else. I already knew what her question was though.
“Yes. I think you’re beautiful in a way I shouldn’t. It’s fucked up. We can’t kiss anymore. We can’t…do anything. Okay?” I lifted my eyebrows and begged her with my stare.
“Okay,” she said earnestly. The tears were gone at least. I couldn’t take her crying anymore. It was fucking destroying me. I would have given anything to kiss those tears away. Instead, I tucked away those kinds of thoughts because I knew better.
We both knew better and we would act like it from now on.
**
Before I got out of the car to go into the house and try not to reek of guilt when I looked at my big brother, Brook stopped me. “I found medicine in his woom. That’s why I cut myself. I felt the water. I was scared.”
My ears heated at her words.
“Medicine? In Anthony’s room? “I quizzed.
“Yes,” she scanned my face and held my hands in hers. I hated how the warmth coursing from her to me made me feel so alive.
“What kind of medicine? He hasn’t said anything about needing treatment for anything.”
“Nitwoglycewin.”
My blood ran cold and I shook my head. I wanted to shake the words out. “Are you sure, Brook?”
“Yes. I know what I saw,” she said, placing her hands on her slender hips.
“Did you see anything else? Aspirin?” Brooklyn nodded emphatically. “Fuck!” I roared.
“Cease, what’s wong?” She tugged on my wrists.
“I need to talk to him,” I stormed into the house and told Brooklyn to go to her room. She went, reluctantly and I headed straight for my brother.
I found him in the kitchen, popping popcorn for movie night. Rage exploded from me without warning the moment I opened my mouth. “You’re on heart meds and you didn’t fucking tell me, Ant?”
He stopped what he was doing and looked at me, his mouth hanging open. “Cease…were you going through my shit?”
“Yes, I was. I was in your room looking for my car keys and I found the fucking medicine. Were you going to tell me? Tell Brook? Hmm?” I stepped toward him and his shoulders squared.
“I’m. Fine. Don’t worry.” He was on the brink of losing it but I’d already lost it.
“You’re not fucking fine and you know it! You’re having heart problems like Dad did and you’re hiding it like him too. I’m so goddamn tired of you hiding things from me. First, you didn’t tell me about Brook and her cutting and anxiety now you’re not telling me what the fuck is going on with you either. You don’t talk about any goddamn thing!”
“What happened to Dad isn’t going to happen to me, Caesar,” he tried to assure me.
“So you mean to tell me that you have a crystal fucking ball and you can see into the future? Tell me again…how do you prevent heart attacks from happening?” My breathing was noisy as I stared him down, glaring.
“I take my medicine. I’m fine. Stop worrying and don’t go through my shit anymore, Caesar. You wanted your keys all you had to do was fucking ask. Send me a text.”
“It’s not normal to keep things from the people closest to you,” I shouted.
“You’re not close to me, are you? You’ve been in New York for how long without a single fucking visit? Then you want to complain that I don’t tell you shit while you’re off being a goddamn hot shot shrink. Don’t come in here acting like you care.”
“I do care!” I roared. “Fine, don’t tell me anything. You could have at least told your daughter. She’s scared shitless. She started cutting again.”
The anger faded from his eyes and was replaced with sadness. “What? How did she find out? You told her?”
Shit.
I couldn’t let Ant know that Brook was the one who found his medicine. I’d do anything to protect her from getting yelled at. Ant wasn’t harsh by any means but she was fragile.
“Yes. Of course. We talk and I wanted to know if she knew how long you’d been taking the heart medicine,” I said, swallowing the jagged fragments of the lie I told.
“Fuck you, Cease. You crossed the line. You shouldn’t have told Brooklyn and now she’s cutting her fucking arms up again all because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut!” The vein in his forehead pulsed and I could feel the one in my neck throbbing.
“Don’t you see that’s the problem? You don’t tell her enough. You don’t let her in enough and she feels alone. Floating in the water. Talk to your kid.” My voice softened but my anger didn’t. I realized Brook could hear every single word of what was going on. She was in her room, not some soundproof fortress.
She already had enough on her mental plate. Hearing her father and me shout it out in the kitchen wasn’t helping. Ant’s mood died down some, his shoulders relaxed and his head hung a bit. “I’ll talk to her,” he promised. “I’m still pissed at you for poking your fucking nose where it doesn’t belong.” He stalked past me, clipping my shoulder on the way to Brook’s room and I went into the living room.
**
Family movie night happened only because Brook requested it. She sat snuggled next to me like she usually did. I wanted to move to a recliner instead of indulging in behavior that contradicted what I said to her earlier in the day. The truth was…I couldn’t.
After fighting with Anthony, beside Brook was where I wanted to be. While he dozed, the TV watched me. My fingers twirled lazily in Brook’s soft black hair.
I was singlehandedly obliterating every word I told her about not doing anything. Tangled in that sticky moment, I realized I needed her too. Knowing she was safe and calm put me at peace.
I made a mental note in my mind to set clear boundaries with Brook once I was out of the house. Maybe my head would clear and my heart would forget the way she made me feel once I moved out. Maybe.
Brook’s hazel eyes were fixed on the TV while my fingers inched her sleeve up revealing one skinny scar after another. With each inch I moved up, I waited for her to flinch away. To brush my hand off of her. She never did.
She let my touch skim her olive skin. Over each mark on her once smooth arm. I looked at every scar as a tortured cry that nobody heard. Well, I was listening loud and clear and Brooklyn would never go unheard again.
“Should we wake him?” Brook asked once the movie went off. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. My eyes traced the fullness of her lips and the way the green flecks in her eyes seemed to glow with the light of the TV behind her.
I blinked rapidly, trying to find my words but it was hard. She rendered me totally speechless. She wasn’t even doing anything but I got so caught up in her beauty that I didn’t know what to say.
“Um, yeah. I guess. You can handle that. I’m going to hit the shower.” I was still pissed with my brother but I knew by morning, I’d make an effort to come around and work things out. Right then I needed time and space. I’m sure he needed the same things.
Once I was in the hot shower, the water rushed over me and I prayed it took the thoughts I was having with it when it swirled down the drain. I couldn’t stop replaying the way Brooklyn kissed me. Her lips were so soft and timid. She tasted so sweet. But not the kind of sweet that would make you think of candy.
She was the kind of sweet that made you think of burying your nose in between flower petals. I imagined how sweet she must have been all over and my dick stood at attention.
Shit.
No matter what else I thought about, I kept coming back to Brook’s kiss. The thought of pinning her to the bed while I kissed and sucked on her full lips, had me thrusting into my soapy fist. My eyes fell shut and I imagined sliding in
and out of Brook’s tight pussy.
Two minutes later, pressure built deep inside of me and everything from my fingertips to my toes tingled. I came so hard my knees buckled and I braced myself, pressing my forearm against the slick shower wall. I watched my seed disappear down the drain and cursed under my breath.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I shut the shower off then got out, wrapping a plush towel around my waist. I needed sleep. Bad. Not because I was tired but because I needed a break from my brain.
I was relieved to see that Ant was gone from the couch. I laid out my blankets and pillows before crashing down to what had become my bed over the past four weeks.
**
The alarm yanked sleep away from me, sending memories of jerking my dick to Brooklyn, crashing down on my head. I was tired. That’s what it had to have been. I was so fucking tired and I wasn’t thinking straight.
I sat up and looked at my phone to check my appointments for the day. I had a meeting with an old colleague and one of my best friends from New York, Ronnie Hollows. He had a practice in LA, and if he would have me, I’d gladly be a psychologist on his team.
It was so quiet in the house that I could hear the rustle of the leaves outside when the wind blew. On the way to the bathroom, I walked past Brooke’s room and noticed she’d already left for school. I must have been tired because I didn’t even hear her leave.
I got dressed and tried to ignore the colossal feeling starting to crush me. It loomed over my head no matter how upbeat I was about meeting with my old friend. This wasn’t anxiety or nerves. This was something else.
I had to make up with my brother. I realized that I couldn’t go talk about a job knowing he was at home being pissed at me.
When I walked into his room after a few knocks, my entire world tilted on its axis. Anthony was face down on the floor. His body was cold and stiff.
The dense feeling of doom was no longer over top of me, it was me. It sank into my blood and pumped through my veins.
I dropped to my knees, my hands trembling like a leaf in the height of a storm. “Ant! Anthony, please get up, man. Please…” My voice cracked, giving way to tears. His body was heavy and stiff as I flipped him over on his back. “Anthony, no…no…no.” My words felt too tiny. They didn’t feel real. My big brother couldn’t be there on the floor dead.
He absolutely couldn’t.
I wanted to wake up from the nightmare playing in my head.
It had to be a dream, right?
I rested his head in my lap with my spine bowed and my head hanging until my forehead brushed his. His skin was like cold leather. My big brother was just a body.
My shoulders quaked as sobs took over me along with the realization that in an instant, I was alone in the world. Our parents died when I was still a kid. All I had was Anthony.
Now, I had no one.
I shouldn’t have fought with him. I got him riled up and didn’t come back to apologize. Agonizing tears dripped onto Ant’s shirt as I cried over him, my fists in balls begging the very air around me to let this be a bad dream.
Twenty minutes of broken cries later, I fumbled to call an ambulance. They took him to the hospital and I waited hours for them to tell me he had a heart attack probably hours before he was discovered. They asked if I wanted to notify anyone from their phone and suddenly the feeling of doom was heavy on me again.
I had to tell Brooklyn her father was dead.
She was in school without a care. My throat turned scratchy as I rose from the chair I’d been planted in. I knew there were people talking to me but I couldn’t respond. My body was cement as I walked through the doors. All I had to do was put one foot in front of the other.
Left, right.
Left, right.
I checked out while my muscles kicked in and drove me to Avery Briggs Alternative High School. I told the main office I needed to take my niece home. My body was void of emotion and my voice was a flat surface that held nothing. Not a single inflection.
She was happy to see me until she settled beside me in the car and realized something wasn’t right. “Cease, what’s wong?” Her soft voice and adorable inflections shattered me. I turned into a tsunami of sorrow, my tall frame curved over the steering wheel. “Cease, what’s wong! What happened?” Her hands trembled as she touched my back. “Please talk to me,” she begged.
“I’m sorry, Brook,” I rasped. I had to pull myself together. She couldn’t see me break down. I wiped the tears from my hot face and prepared to tell her the hardest thing I’ve ever had to tell anyone.
**
Brooklyn…
Everything on me shook…my lips, my chin, my hands and shoulders. I didn’t know what was coming next from Cease but watching him crumble right before me was haunting. He composed himself after a moment then looked at me.
“Your father is…dead. He’s gone, Brook,” he sniffled.
My lips moved but nothing came out.
Water, water, water.
“No…no, Cease. Don’t say that,” I begged. My chest felt empty like my heart would never beat again.
“I found him this morning on the floor in his room. He had a heart attack,” he explained, trying to remain calm. Sweat beads made of ice covered my forehead. I sucked in one last urgent breath before the water swallowed my head.
A howl clawed at my constricted throat until I had no choice but to let it out. Water shredded my lungs to useless scraps of tissue. I was sinking like a rock.
“Nooo!” I don’t even know when I started to cry. I don’t know when I started to shake or clutch my shoulders and rock back and forth.
“I’m so sorry, Brook,” Caesar said again. His voice was too far away. He sounded like he was a football field away instead of right beside me, holding my hands.
“I-I-I can’t bweathe,” I gasped, scratching at my throat with my nails. I didn’t care if I drew blood. I wanted to. I wanted to feel physical pain and not the godforsaken pain that echoed in my heart.
“Calm down, Brook. You have to breathe, baby.”
“I can’t!” I shrieked in a panic. My wet eyes scanned for something in Cease’s car. Anything to cut with.
“You’re going to have to calm down.” He rolled the windows down and I felt air rushing over my skin. The water was still swallowing me rapidly. It felt as if I was inside an aquarium banging on the thick glass, begging for Caesar to get me out.
He pulled off and more air slid across my skin but my lungs were still useless. It wasn’t until Cease took me home and held me in his arms that I started to breathe. Deep, chest-vibrating coughs shook my body.
Finally, my voice squeaked out tiny and afraid, “Why?”
“I don’t know, Brook,” he sighed, brushing the hair from my forehead. Each thump of my stupid heart made me feel like my ribs would shatter.
The walls of my own house felt foreign and unwelcoming. I hated being home. I didn’t want to look at that house again. Memories suddenly became my lifeline and the only thing that would play before my eyes.
How?
How could my father be gone?
How could I miss him so sorely already?
A part of me was gone and there was only a gaping hole.
**
I woke up in my bed. Darkness surrounded me and I felt cold. Cold and so fucking empty. Once reality came surging back in all bitter and jagged, I rushed to my bathroom and locked the door.
My faithful precision point tweezers stared back at me from the medicine cabinet like an old friend. I yanked them down and shoved my sleeve up hastily. My lips parted and I sucked in breath after breath, thirsty for air. The water was coming faster and faster.
A satisfied moan escaped me as I shut my eyes and sat on the edge of the tub. Warm blood slid down to my hand. The deep thrum pulsed down to my tendons and it stung so bad but still so good.
Shame and grief danced in my chest before taking over my body. I hated myself, so I cut again and again and again un
til…
Knock, knock, knock…
“Brook, you awake?” Caesar’s voice was hazy at best. “Brooklyn, open this door,” he growled. The bathroom door trembled beneath his fist.
My hands slipped trying to open the door. They were coated in thick crimson. It smeared all over everything. It dripped onto the floor. It soaked my sleeves.
There was so much blood.
“I can’t…I can’t open the door,” I laughed. I sounded distant.
“Brooklyn!” Cease shouted. His voice was broken apart.
In the next moment, or maybe it was two or three moments, Caesar dragged me out of the bathroom and my vision grew fuzzy.
**
I woke up in the hospital. Pain burned my forearms when I tried to push to a sitting position. I looked down to see stark white bandages up to my elbows on both arms. A thick knot lodged itself in my throat.
I was in awe.
I was happy and pissed off at the same time. Having bandages on meant I wouldn’t cut but the exact same realization made me smolder with anger. I needed to cut but I knew better.
My head hurt with the contradiction.
“There she is,” I jerked my gaze to the corner of the room and saw Caesar’s long frame swallowing two chairs he’d turned into a makeshift bed. His eyes were bloodshot red and his normally perfect hair was disheveled.
He strolled over to my bed and pushed his fingers through my hair. Everything came into focus. I pushed out a soft sigh and nuzzled against his touch.
“Can you tell me it was all a bad dweam?” I sniffed. Cease shook his head, sadness washed over his handsome features. He sat beside me and pulled my body against him. His smell was more comforting than anything in the world.
“I’m sorry, baby. It’s not a bad dream. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here. Let me know. I’m not leaving your side.” I looked down at my bandaged arms then at Cease.
“I went too far. How much blood did I lose?”
“A lot. Scared the fuck out of me. I can’t lose you, Brook.” He kissed the top of my head and my heart thumped.
“I’m sowwy. My head is fucked up. This hurts so bad.”
Tortured Whispers Page 6