by Marni Mann
“Why is she here?”
His hands clamped my shoulders. “She came to talk to Brady. We had something we needed to tell him…together.”
They had something they needed to tell him. Together.
And Shane hadn’t told me what it was?
But he told me everything when it came to Brady. This was my family, not hers. So why did I suddenly feel like an outsider?
“Should I leave?” I asked, not caring whether or not she heard me.
Shane frowned. “I know she’s not your favorite, but this is something you need to hear. It might change the way you feel.”
“Doubt it,” I mumbled.
“Please come sit with us?” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers.
I needed to hear whatever it was, so I took his hand and followed him over. He pulled out a chair for me next to Brady. But Brady didn’t even glance in my direction. His eyes were trained on Drew, and Drew’s eyes were fixed on him. He didn’t even seem to be breathing.
Drew slowly looked at me. “Hi, Rae.”
I ignored her. “So what’s going on here?” I asked roughly.
Brady’s stare gradually shifted over to me. “Turns out Drew is… uh…my sister.”
My stomach dropped and my jaw hung open. I didn’t even try to close it. “She’s your what?” I was louder than I needed to be.
Shane blushed. “It’s true.”
“Why am I just hearing about this now?” I couldn’t help the accusatory tone.
“I’m just hearing it now, too,” Brady answered. “Drew figured it out, but Dad didn’t want her to tell me until he thought I could handle the news.”
“How long have you known this, Shane?” He’d been with Drew’s mom? I could hardly digest it.
“A few months. We found out while I was renovating Drew’s house.”
My stare shifted between the three of them. They all had the same eyes and similar coloring and their faces were shaped the same.
She wasn’t the outsider.
I was.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” Drew said, “but I—”
I spoke over her. “Shane, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Please don’t be upset, Rae. I really wanted to tell you, but Brady needed to hear the news first. I wasn’t comfortable telling anyone until he knew about his sister.”
The thought of her being that to Brady sent a chill through me.
Was I concentrating on the wrong thing here? Maybe the fact that he hadn’t told me yet wasn’t as important as how this was going to change us. Drew and I didn’t get along; with Brady getting out of rehab soon, I imagined he’d be spending a lot of time with her…his sister. Things were about to get really messy.
“He’s been doing so well,” Shane said, “we thought it was the right time to tell him.”
We.
Drew had been a surprise member of the family for less than a whole season and already she was helping Shane make decisions. Everything was so complicated. It made my stomach feel even worse than it had before. There were issues between me and Drew, and between Brady and Saint. And now, everyone was family.
“There’s more,” Brady said.
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear it.” I glanced up from the table and met his eyes.
“Dad talked to Drew about my situation. She’s going to lend me the money to pay the dealers.”
“She is?” I may not have been related by blood, but I still had a voice in this family, and there was no way I was keeping quiet about the money.
Brady eyed me warily. That meant he’d heard the edge in my tone. “Isn’t that awesome, Rae?” he said carefully.
Drew gazed at him. “I really want to help.”
I glared at Drew, with her arms crossed over her chest like a shield and her happy eyes and her smirk. She couldn’t have possibly known what was coming. “How did that become your decision to make?” I asked her.
“It wasn’t, Rae,” Shane said, sounding stunned. “She offered to help, and we accepted. We thought you’d be as relieved as we are.”
But she wasn’t the one who could fix this…I was.
“There’s no way I’m going to let that happen,” I told her, raising my voice. “I don’t care what your intentions are. Brady is my family. I’ve been here for him for all these years, not you. I was the one he called when those assholes had beaten the shit out of him. I held him while he trembled and puked his guts out. I made him feel safe—me, not you. I’ll be…”
I stopped myself from saying…damned if you get to be the one who fixes him.
I hadn’t broken the pattern. I was still trying to fix Brady, when I really needed to fix myself. Somehow, I couldn’t let go.
“You have no fucking idea what he’s been through or what he needs,” I said instead. I turned to Brady. “I have the money. Every cent will come from me. You don’t need Drew.”
“What?” Brady asked, before it registered. “Rae, no…”
“Brady, yes.” I stood firm.
“Unless you’re planning to buy a home, you don’t touch that account—do you understand? That’s what it’s for: your home.”
He and Shane had taken me to the bank to open the account, sometimes tagging along when I made my deposits. Shane gave me a check every year for my birthday just to add to the balance. Spending that money on a place to live would give me something that was mine, but it would never replace the way Brady and Shane made me feel.
They were more than just my family.
“You’re my home,” I told him. I glanced at Shane. “You are, too.” I felt my lips tremble. “You carried me out of that hospital bed when I’d thrown everything away. You were the only one who would look at all my ugliness, and you’ve been carrying me forward ever since. It’s been a horrible time. Horrible. I’ve made mistakes everywhere, and so have you. But we’ve loved each other right through it all.” It was becoming clearer the more I spoke. “It wasn’t just me taking care of you, Brady; it was you taking care of me, too. I realize that now. You’re the closest thing I have to a brother…”
It hit me then: something in me believed that by saving Brady, I’d also be saving Darren.
It was such a fucked-up thought.
But it was another piece of truth I had to face.
“I need to do this for you—and I have the money to do it. So I’m going to be the one to fix this.” I glared at Drew again. “Not you.”
Before any of them had a chance to speak, I turned and ran for the door.
A house was just a house to me now. Brady was the home I needed to keep safe. I would figure out another way to buy a place to live, another way to stand on my own. Another way to heal myself.
Brady needed it more than I did.
I sat in my car, composing myself before starting it up. I jumped when my phone rang. Unknown showed on the screen. My hand reached for it on impulse. I stared at it while it rang, trying to feel something other than rage.
It was time for this to change.
I answered the call, but said nothing, waiting for him to speak. “Rae?” The raspy voice I hated so much jittered in my ear. “Rae, are you there?” I wanted to hear what he would say, how he would try to convince me that I hadn’t seen what I’d seen, that I didn’t know the things I knew about him. About what he’d done to Darren. “We need to talk, Rae. You can’t run from me forever.”
It all came barreling out of me. “Don’t you ever fucking call me again, old man!” I screamed. “Do you understand me? Don’t you ever…fucking… call me…again!” I hung up and threw my phone on the floor as hard as I could.
All at once, I felt the storm pulling me back in.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I STOOD IN FRONT of the bathroom mirror with only a towel wrapped around me. I’d just gotten out of the shower but had forgotten to use conditioner, so my hair was a tangled mess. I didn’t have the energy to get back in, squirt the liquid onto my hand and run it through my strands. It could
stay tangled and sloppy for all I cared.
I looked at my phone, at the time and the date, and I breathed.
It was only six in the morning.
Today.
I had nowhere to be. No reason to clean my body. No cause to flee the bed I shared with Hart other than worrying that my tossing and turning would wake him. I hadn’t slept a minute the whole night. I’d watched the reflection of the moon shimmer over the ceiling until it disappeared down the wall. Then I moved on to the stars that shined through the skylight. I’d traced their patterns, followed their slow arcs across the dark sky until the tightness in my chest became too much. I had hoped the shower would loosen it, though I knew nothing would help. Not taking deep breaths; not smoking a joint. Not talking to Brady.
The void within me couldn’t be filled.
There was a red circle on my chest where the water had beaten down. It was the entrance to my broken core, the place where it hurt the most. My short golden locks couldn’t cover it anymore, couldn’t soothe it. It ached even more with each passing second.
I just wanted to see him one more time.
I didn’t want to say good-bye; I could never have said that to someone I loved as much as Darren. The thought of it was ugly and jagged, red like my scar. No, I wanted to tell him how sorry I was for not protecting him from Gerald. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him, to shield him from the evil that lived in our house.
I thought back to the last time I’d held him. It was after I’d seen him being ravaged by that horrible man. Darren was fourteen at the time—an eighth-grader—so I drove him to school. We had a quiet moment in the car. I wanted him to know that I knew what was happening without torturing him any more than he’d already been. So I tried to keep things simple. “Everything cool with you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Sure.”
I glanced at him as he gazed out the window. “You’re not really convincing me.”
He didn’t look at me. “It’s all good, Rae. Just…school stuff. Homework.”
My heart trembled. He was trying so hard to be brave.
“You know,” I told him, “we’ve never had a dad to take care of us. That really sucks, I think. And Mom is always working.” I didn’t mention Gerald. I was hoping if I gave Darren the opportunity, he’d bring him up. He said nothing. “So if anything is going wrong or bothering you, you know you can always come to me, right? That if you didn’t know how to deal with something, I’d help you with it however I had to. I’d do anything for you.”
He shrugged again. “There’s nothing wrong, Rae. Nothing I can’t handle on my own.”
My heart was hammering now. I didn’t want him to feel alone anymore.
The light changed to green, so I began to drive. I pulled into the school lot and parked. “Listen to me, Darren…” I paused, trying to think of a delicate way to say this without scaring him. “I know what Grandpa did to you.”
His head snapped around, and his eyes widened.
“I saw him the other night…when he was in your room.”
He didn’t say a word.
“We need to tell Mom.”
“No!” he shouted. “Don’t do that. Please…you can’t, Rae…you can’t. Promise me, please. Promise me!”
He was frantic. It gave me a true sense of how much fear he was living in. My heart was breaking for him. “Okay…okay. I won’t.”
He stared out the window as his breathing starting to calm. He tucked his hands under his knees. “Nothing happened anyway, so there’s nothing to tell.” He was lying, that was why he still wouldn’t look at me. “You didn’t see what you thought you saw, Rae.” He took another breath. “You’re wrong…”
I let the silence settle between us. There was nothing he could say that would convince me I was wrong. I knew what I saw, and he needed to know I was going to protect him regardless of what he was willing to admit. “I will never let him do that to you again.” Our eyes slowly filled with tears. “I will never let him do that to you again,” I repeated.
He hesitated for a second. Then hugged me, tightly. So hard, I could feel my ribs buckle. “You can’t tell Mom,” he whispered. “Please.” Then he jumped out of the car.
It wasn’t long after that that I saw him on his bed, asphyxiated with his own belt.
That was how I remembered him, even when I didn’t want to. But every year on his birthday, I forced myself to imagine what he might look like if he were still alive. How tall he’d be, how handsome. If he’d still have only three freckles under his left eye or if there would be more. What a fantastic young man he’d be, if only…
If only.
I traced my scar, remembering the sacrifices I hadn’t been able to make for him. Maybe he’d been more fortunate to have escaped. “Happy nineteenth, Darren,” I whispered into the mirror.
“Happy nineteenth, Darren,” Hart echoed.
The sound of his voice made me smile. It was the only happiness I could have hoped to find on a day like this.
I turned around, watching him lean against the frame of the door, dressed in only a pair of thin cotton sweatpants. “We’re not staying home today,” he said.
“We’re not?”
He shook his head as he walked over to me. His nose grazed my cheek, as though he was taking in my scent before he kissed the center of my scar. “We’re going out to commemorate Darren’s birthday.”
Commemorate it? It was enough just to survive it.
“Don’t you do that every year?” he asked.
“No. I usually just smoke pot all day and hope to pass out at some point.”
He smiled. “So what would you do if you weren’t high?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I’d never been asked the question before and didn’t have an answer ready.
I wasn’t sure if Hart’s silence meant he was thinking of something, or if he was waiting for me to say more. He just breathed on my neck and held me quietly.
Finally, something came to me. “I’d like to see his grave,” I told him. “I haven’t gone back since the funeral.” I hadn’t been able to, though I’d tried several times. Each time I’d been alone by choice. I thought it was what I needed to do; it just ended up being too much. I never made it past the entrance of the cemetery.
Hart smiled. “Then that’s where we’re going.”
***
Several inches of snow covered the ground as Hart and I walked through the gate of the cemetery. A sidewalk circled the whole property; several shorter paths weaved among the graves, through different patches of plots. We stayed in the middle, taking the narrower aisles that led to Darren’s section. Hart’s hand clung to my mitten-covered fingers. His body was pressed closely to mine. I couldn’t feel him, even though I knew he was holding it tightly.
After the second hill, my pace began to slow. Hart’s arm wrapped around my shoulders and he pulled me into his chest. His smell was stronger than the pine in the air. I could tell he was trying to use his warmth to thaw me.
“I should have brought you a blanket,” he said.
My whole body shivered. “I’m not cold.”
“We can stop if you need to.” He pressed his lips against my temple.
“No. I’m good.” I knew my feet were moving, but it felt like he was lifting them for me and placing them back on the ground, like he was carrying every ounce of my weight and keeping me softly fogged, so the realization of where we were wouldn’t hit me all at once. And while he was busy with me, I kept my eyes on the ground, staring at the different footprints that had been pressed into the snow. So many shoes and boots and sneakers had walked this path before us. Probably would after us, too. I wondered if their hearts hurt as badly as mine.
I knew how close we were getting, even without my eyes following the names on the graves that we passed. I remembered all the stones that surrounded his plot, even only having been there once. When the prints in the snow weren’t enough, I began counting my steps. When we were only feet away,
I stopped and glanced at Hart. “It’s that one,” I said. My head nudged toward the stone in front of us, but my eyes remained on his overcast gaze. My emotions seemed to be reflecting back at me from within his vision.
“How are you?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Not even a sound. Just a drop that started at my bottom eyelid and fell to my cheek. He caught it before it reached my chin, cupping my scar as his mouth brushed over mine. It was a tender kiss full of breath, encouragement and hope.
It was the pause I needed.
“I think I’m okay.”
I faced forward again, my side pressing against him as I took the final steps. When I came to a stop, the wind seemed to as well, a pocket of serenity hovering over us. It wasn’t warmth, but it wasn’t cold, either. It was a quiet, steady storm that held in place as I read the words on his headstone.
Darren Ryan.
Son. Brother. Friend.
Fourteen short years of life from start to finish, and now he lay in front of me, underneath a mound of snow and dirt, in a box that would never be opened again. How was that even possible?
Had he really been gone for five years?
I closed my eyes and leaned my head into Hart’s shoulder. “I miss you, Darren.” Hart’s grip tightened around me. “I miss you so much…” I opened my eyes and watched my exhale cloud from my lips.
“I remember the way he used to look at you,” Hart said. “The way his eyes watched you when you spoke, admiring you, eating up every word you said.”
I smiled at the thought. I remembered that, too. But I remembered more…
“I let him down.”
“No, you didn’t, Rae.” Hart’s arm wrapped over my stomach. “He knew he could go to you with anything and that he could trust you. But his pain was something you couldn’t fix.”
Aside from Darren and Hart, everyone else in my life had wanted to be saved at one point or another. I had watched Brady reach his rock bottom after falling again and again. But Darren didn’t stand a chance. He was a little boy victimized by someone he trusted. He started at rock bottom.
He had nowhere else to fall.