Sparks Fly (Davis Brothers Book 1)

by Nicole Douglas

  “What’s crazy is acting like we could actually be together without me fucking up your life. I see where this is going…and I’m not going there.”

  She shakes her head. “If you think I’m going to stand here and beg you to be with me, you’re out of your mind. I have enough problems without this.”

  With her head held high and not a tear in her eye she packs up her toiletries lining my bathroom counter. She pulls all of her clothes from my second drawer, the one I cleared out just for her, and shoves them in the overnight bag she left here.

  I heat up a microwave meal for lunch and turn my back to the door so I don’t have to watch her leave.

  It’s for the best. I can’t deal with this drama. With worrying about ruining another person’s life. My life is fucked up enough without adding another person to the equation. This whole relationship was a cluster fuck in the making.

  A text lights up my phone from Dad, reinforcing that I made the right choice.

  Dad: I need you tonight.

  Max: I’ll be there.

  Chapter 23

  Lacey

  Work distracts me from my hurt feelings. I waitress Thursday and Friday night and bring in pretty shitty tips. My sour mood doesn’t exactly inspire conversation from customers. I’m honestly coming off as a bitch with my blank expressions, short responses and sullen attitude with co-workers.

  I have no desire to socialize with anyone. Not even those with my tips in their wallets.

  I robotically take orders and drop off drinks with an unnatural smile. Anyone looking closely enough can see it. I know I need to turn my demeanor around by the time Saturday rolls around or I risk losing my paid singing gigs too.

  By Saturday I pull myself together, but barely. On stage I let my heart bleed out through the tortured lyrics I chose to sing this weekend. My whole set is composed of break-up songs.

  If the bar manager notices the theme he doesn’t comment. He’s probably too scared to talk to me at this point, worried I’ll either bite his head off or burst into tears. It’s best to avoid the emotionally unstable girl.

  I miss Max.

  That much is painfully obvious from my song choices tonight. And I know he was speaking from fear of getting too close when he ended things between us. Fear of hurting me or of me hurting him. But I wasn’t lying last week when I walked out the door for the last time.

  I won’t beg him. I wasn’t the type.

  So I spend the next several days studying in my apartment rather than at the campus library, not wanting to risk crossing paths with him. I avoid the old coffee shop, knowing how often he stops by. Can’t go to the beach without thinking of sandy quickies and late night conversations. Other than the nights I work at Blue’s I hardly leave the house.

  Sleeping alone night after night allows my mind to wander. And the places it wanders are dark and best forgotten. I think of David more than I’m comfortable with. Of the fear and humiliation I felt the last time I saw him.

  I can almost feel the sting in my cheek where he slapped me. The sting and ache between my legs throbs even though those wounds have long since healed. The racing of my heart as I left his apartment for the last time returns with each terrifying memory, feeling as scared and lost as I had that night.

  It’s been months but the fear hasn’t alleviated. In fact, it’s become more obvious in my silent lonesomeness.

  I shower in desperation to scrub the memories of him from my skin but they linger in the quiet darkness of my bedroom as I try to fall asleep alone each night.

  Max proved to be an effective distraction from the residual effects of David. Now I have no choice but to deal with what happened. And I had to deal with it alone. No one else knew about what happened to me and I couldn’t bring myself to tell my parents.

  Who else did I even have? Reina didn’t even try to talk to me anymore. Her social media was filled with photos of her at parties with new friends. Didn’t look like she missed me much and when I tried to text her a couple times since breaking up with Max she had barely responded.

  I asked her if we could meet up for coffee one day after class to talk and she gave me a vague excuse. Translation: she moved on the greener friendship pastures and I should too.

  I couldn’t exactly say I was hurt by her response. Or surprised. We weren’t all that close to begin with and when I started spending more time with Max the distance was undeniable. The fact that she hadn’t tried to meet my new love interest or stop by my place was also undeniable.

  But regardless of how shallow the friendship had been the fact remained that I was alone. I didn’t even have the desire to meet new people. I could stop by the coffee shop and talk to Amy but that didn’t solve my problems.

  I wasn’t close to anyone. Not close enough to talk about my problems or unload about David.

  About Max.

  Mid-week I schedule a counseling appointment through the campus psychology department.

  Mid-month I feel more broken and unstable than the night David raped me. Reliving what happened in detail flays me open. Nightmares visit every night.

  But slowly my counselor Belinda helps me talk through what happened to me and start putting the pieces back together one jagged shard at a time.

  I’m far from being whole again but at least I have an outlet to break down. To cry. To get guidance on where to go from here.

  With her help I feel a little less lost.

  Chapter 24

  Max

  Weeks have gone by without a word from Chris. I expected to see him the night I went to work for Dad after I sent him away but he wasn’t there. After I cooled down from our fight I tried texting and calling. The calls went to voicemail. The texts went unanswered.

  Worry was starting to consume me. I was close to calling my dad for help tracking him down and that spoke volumes. I never asked him for a damn thing. But my brother was gone and it was my fault. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that Chris was hiding from him for a reason.

  When my thoughts cleared and the anger receded I knew him and Lacey were right that day. I overreacted.

  Chris shouldn’t have done what he did. Shouldn’t have disrespected me or my budding relationship by pushing it to its death. But at the end of the day he was my brother. The only real family I had that didn’t make me want to change my name and move to another country to escape.

  Then one evening there’s an unexpected knock on the door. At the time my thoughts had drifted to pretty brown eyes and soft smooth skin under my touch. Sugary sweet kisses and angelic songs.

  I open the door half expecting to see Lacey standing there.

  Instead I find Chris. He pushes past me without greeting and heads straight for the fridge. I stand in the doorway dumbfounded as he pulls out a beer and chugs half of it before coming up for air.

  “God. Where have you been?”

  He belches loudly, finishes the rest of the beer and tosses the empty bottle in the trash. “You tell me to fuck off and then ask where I’ve been? You need to work on the mixed signals, bro.”

  “I’ve been trying to call you.”

  “My phone broke.” He pulls a takeout container from the fridge, opens it and scrunches his face. “This is disgusting.”

  I look down and notice the molded half eaten Salisbury steak. It’s been in there at least a week and I had pushed it to the side of the fridge, not giving enough of a shit to throw it away.

  Chris tosses it to the trash and takes the time to look around the apartment. Several pairs of shoes are scattered across the living room floor. Coke cans and beer bottles litter the coffee table. The carpet has mud stains by the front door that I never bothered to scrub clean.

  The messiness is so far from my norm even my slob of a brother looks stunned.

  “Is everything ok with you?” He asks carefully, eying the clutter. “You seem….off.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah you’re fine or yeah you’re off.”

  I take a mom
ent to decide if I should lie to him or just go ahead and admit the truth. He can clearly see it by the state of my apartment.

  “Off.”

  He nods. “When was the last time you left this place? Or more importantly when was the last time you showered?”

  He takes a step away from me and it takes me a moment to realize it’s been two days since I showered. Four since I left the apartment and that was only because Dad called on me to be his muscle against a guy that owed him money.

  I hadn’t been to class all week and the only thing saving my grades from going down the toilet was that my professors posted PowerPoint slides of their lectures on Blackboard. I had to show up for an exam next Wednesday.

  Aside from that I had no immediate plans to leave. There was no need to venture into public. I could order take-out and do my homework here.

  “Come on, bro. Go take a shower. Get dressed. We’re going out tonight.”

  “Out?” I groan, not even pretending to want to leave. “Out where?”

  “Blue’s.”

  “No.”

  “Why the hell not? We always go to Blue’s. It’s chill there. And they have Lady’s Night on Thursday’s.”

  “I don’t want to go to Lady’s Night. And I sure as hell don’t want to go to Blue’s.”

  “Lady’s Night was for my benefit, not yours. Aren’t you practically a married man now? Lacey spends damn near every night here.”

  “Not anymore.”

  He chuckles under his breath. “I see. That’s why you aren’t taking care of your basic hygiene and we can’t go to Blue’s? The two of you split?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “She dump your sorry ass?”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Ok. She just seemed like a sweet girl. Different.”

  “Yep.”

  “I liked her.”

  “Stay away from her Chris.” I snap, shooting daggers at my brother.

  “You still like her too.” He says with a knowing smile.

  A denial is on the tip of my tongue but I can’t quite bring myself to say the words.

  “It doesn’t matter if I do or not.”

  He stares at me carefully until I get uncomfortable before finally speaking up. “Regardless of what you might think of me I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t mess with your girl.”

  “That’s not what you were saying the other day.”

  “I know. But I was here long enough to see you feel something for her. And I was just fucking with you.”

  My mouth opens but he cuts me off before I can say anything.

  “Don’t give me any bullshit.” I stay silent. “I would ask why you didn’t tell me about her before I showed up here. But I guess I know the answer to that.”

  More silence from me.

  “To be honest the first day I thought she was just some girl you were screwing.” Chris picks phantom lent off his jeans, refusing to look at me all of a sudden. “Remember when we were kids?” I nod although he can’t see me with his eyes cast downward. “We were so close. You used to tell me everything. We told each other everything. You were all I had back then.”

  The last words are whispered so softly I almost wonder if I imagined them.

  “I remember.”

  “You think we could ever be like that again?”

  I pause. “I don’t know.”

  Silence fills the room but it isn’t awkward. We both take the time to think. Reflect on the past and the present. Finally he slaps me on the back roughly, jarring me from my thoughts.

  “Let’s go. Get a shower so we can go out.”

  “I told you I’m not going to Blue’s.”

  “Fine. We won’t go there. You still need to get out of the house and get some fresh air. It’ll be good for you. Always works for me when I’m hung up on a girl.”

  “When the fuck is that?”

  “Every day.”

  I laugh to myself at his ridiculous way of life, jumping from bed to bed. I shower and change my clothes into something presentable. We climb into his car and he drives us somewhere surprising. I laugh freely when I see the sign lighting up the parking lot.

  The arcade.

  “I can’t believe this place is still here.”

  “I know.” Chris concurs. “I’m glad it is though. I’m about to school you in Final Fight just like last time we came here.”

  The last time we came here was at least ten years ago. My entire mood lifts as we go inside. The sounds of beeping, dinging and clinking fill the room noisily and it brings me back to simpler times. Times I shared with my big brother back when I looked up to him and followed him around everywhere he went.

  Times had changed. I can’t deny that fact. But the moment we walk back into the arcade it’s like time has remained frozen. It sounds the same. Looks the same. Feels the same.

  Chris shoves me playfully and takes off for the back wall where we both know Final Fight should be. We find it right where it should be, in the same corner as always. It’s aged considerably in the ten or so years since we’ve been here. If we wait another ten to return there’s no way in hell this game will still be working.

  We blow off steam on Final Fight and boast of our athletic abilities at NBA Hoopz. We bowl at the mini glow in the dark lanes that seem so randomly placed against the wall furthest from the entrance. I beat him during our first round and he demands a rematch.

  We laugh and bowl three times before he finally wins, throwing his hands in the air and doing a stupid dance in victory. It’s such a Chris thing to do. Rubbing it in my face had always been his favorite part.

  I haven’t laughed this hard in months. Maybe years.

  At the end of the night Chris drops me off at the apartment and goes back to his hotel. The air between us has been cleared after our night of fun.

  He has five days left at his hotel and I invite him to come back to the apartment when his days are up. No sense in him staying at a hotel. I had been pissed when I kicked him out. His accusation that I was being a hothead? Maybe it was accurate.

  But I was a hothead for Lacey and I didn’t regret that.

  He could help me with the utility bill and we can share space without the tension from before. Lacey was long gone from my life now. There was no one around to shelter anymore from Chris’s questionable decisions.

  ✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

  I come to regret extending the invitation within days of Chris moving back. I may not have Lacey to shelter anymore but maybe I should have considered sheltering myself. I sure as hell didn’t want to walk in the front door to witness my brother shoving a needle in his arm on my couch.

  I didn’t think I would care so much. I knew what he was up to when no one was around. I guess I tried not to think about what it meant. What it must look like. How he could kill himself chasing this high.

  It should piss me off that he was doing it right here in my fucking apartment when I told him to keep that shit out of here.

  But the rush of panic for him, of grief for what he had become, flooded me unexpectedly. His eyes, the mirror image of mine, look up from his task in surprise. He didn’t expect me to be home yet and the turn of the doorknob pulled his attention from his arm.

  I stand there staring, feeling muted. He breaks the eye contact and squeezes the poison from the needle, surging it into his veins slowly. It was like he couldn’t stop himself at that point in the process even if he wanted to. Even with his little brother as an onlooker.

  Nothing could pull that needle from his vein until it was filled and sated.

  His eyes close in ecstasy and if I don’t get the fuck out of here I’m going to be sick. So I storm downstairs, jump in my car and drive off without a destination in mind.

  Like always when I’m troubled I find myself driving to the beach. The sun has already set and the darkness of the sky with the sounds of waves crashing into the shore reminds me too much of Lacey.


  The scene is the same as the first night I spent with her, downing tequila on the sand and trying to escape life’s problems. Seems I’ve come full circle except this time sans tequila and Lacey.

  The breeze wafts the salty ocean aroma over me and my frazzled nerves begin to settle.

  Letting go of Lacey was the right thing to do. If I had done it any differently, any less cold, she would have tried to talk sense into me and stayed right by my side.

  I didn’t want that.

  I wanted her to go, to give me space to clear my thoughts. Because when she was around I was under the influence. Just as enlivened as Chris was when he snorted a line of coke. As complacent and unguarded as when he shoots a syringe full of heroin into his veins.

  That’s what Lacey did to me. She altered the chemical makeup in my brain and body.

  Maybe that’s what I did to her too. She clearly made shit decisions when she was around me. She may have been pissed off the night I made her leave but she hadn’t tried to call me since. Hadn’t shown up at my door or sent a single text.

  It seemed she saw the truth in my parting words and decided to take heed and move on. I needed to do the same. My thoughts kept wandering back to her. She was a hard one to forget.

  I come to the steady, stable beach to think.

  Sometimes I come out here to talk to my mother, hoping somehow she can hear me. Yearning for the motherly advice I imagine she would give if she were here.

  What would she say if I told her what Chris became? A heroin addict that occasionally broke free from the clutches of addiction to function as a normal human being. As normal as he could be given who our father is. Given what we had witnessed years ago and every day since.

  But it never lasted long before he fell under the spell of addiction and chased after his next high without regard for anyone else. Without regard for me.

  I sit in the sand for hours, letting the waves soothe me. The steady crashing against the shore comes unfailingly as always. It’s still the only thing I can depend on. That’s why I always come running here when life becomes too much.

  My mom is gone.