Sparks Fly (Davis Brothers Book 1)

by Nicole Douglas

  My dad is sadistic.

  My brother is self-destructive and unreliable.

  And now Lacey is gone too.

  But the beach would always be here when I need it. It couldn’t die or lie or leave.

  The hopelessness of it all breaks something inside of me and I let it break. It feels good to not grasp at my strength and sanity for a minute. The tears freely fall and I let them, knowing there’s no one out here at this time of night to witness it.

  I don’t even bother to be quiet about it which is how Chris is able to sneak up on me without notice. He sits his ass in the sand next to me with about two feet between us. I appreciate the distance and honestly wish he would just take his ass somewhere else entirely.

  But I’m too emotionally drained to voice that thought so instead we sit in silence, watching the waves together until my eyes dry and the tightness in my chest loosens. I can’t even look at him so I keep my eyes straight ahead at the waves that are illuminated by the moon glowing above.

  “Mom wouldn’t want you out here like this. Still coming out here for her.”

  “She isn’t the reason I’m out here. You are.”

  I see him flinch from the corner of my eye but he keeps talking. “This was where she died, Max. Not where she lived.”

  “Where she died is what I have a problem with.” I force my voice to even before I finish what I have to say. “I come out to the beach to deal with my problems. You shoot yours up your arm.”

  He nods silently and we let the waves fill the silence. I start to think he’s going to shut up since he isn’t exactly one to be dishing out advice but he starts back up again.

  I guess he feels compelled to spew his last two years of pent up brotherly guidance in one night.

  “Sometimes I go sit in front of the old house. I park across the street at that park we used to play at and just watch the house. Pretend like maybe it’s Mom behind the kitchen curtain, cooking us dinner like she used to do. Do you remember that?”

  “Yeah.”

  Damn it. My eyes sting again but this time I fight against it.

  “You were little then. Before dad started dragging everyone in his shit.”

  When did he not drag everyone in his shit? Maybe Chris is right. I was too young to remember a time like that. It probably ended before I was even a fucking fetus.

  “I sit at that park, watch our old house and miss the hell out of her. Miss you. That’s where I use most of the time. It’s the only thing that made it better at first. Made me feel better about how life has turned out.”

  “It’s not making anything better, Chris. You’re killing yourself.”

  “I know.”

  Waves continue to crash.

  “Is that what you want?”

  I don’t know if I want the answer to that. Not sure if I can handle the truth once it comes out.

  “Maybe.”

  “You’ve got to stop doing this.”

  My tone is pleading. Even I can hear the hint of desperation. Of begging.

  But I can’t help it. I want too badly for him to get clean and take care of himself. I want too badly for him to live and keep being my brother and I know if he stays on this path he’s going to end up in a pine box, six feet deep.

  “What difference does it make? I’m not doing anything with my life. I’m not like you.”

  “You don’t have to be like me.”

  “It wouldn’t make a difference if I was gone. There’s no one that would care.”

  “I would dammit. I would.”

  “You want me to quit for you?”

  As much as it hurt to watch him waste away and self-destruct, it couldn’t be for me. That just wouldn’t work. At the first sign of conflict, our first argument, he would turn back to drugs to numb his emotions.

  Getting clean for someone else was a setup for a relapse down the road.

  “Do it for yourself, Chris. No one but yourself.”

  Chapter 25

  Lacey

  I’m wiping down a table when Chris walks into Blue’s in his snug leather jacket and faded jeans. For a Tuesday night it’s no surprise the place isn’t very busy. It’s not hard for him to spot me when there’s hardly anyone around.

  I usually don’t even work on Tuesdays but volunteered to pick up some extra shifts to stay busy. An idle mind is a dangerous thing and there’s only so much studying I can do to occupy mine.

  I instantly regret the decision when I’m met with hazel eyes so much like Max’s my gut twists.

  I blink rapidly and look away, reminding myself this isn’t Max. Other than the identical eyes they really look nothing alike. They act nothing alike too, as opposite as two brothers could be. I keep that in mind as I greet him, trying to remember that it isn’t Chris’s fault that Max threw me away like last week’s newspaper.

  “Hey.” I try sounding as cheerful as possible under the circumstances of my heart clenching, desperate to know how his brother is doing. “What can I get for you?”

  “I didn’t come here for a drink.”

  I force a sweet smile. “We don’t have karaoke on Tuesdays.”

  “You know why I came.”

  I guess he isn’t in the mood for dancing around the point.

  “Do I?”

  “He’s a mess.”

  “He’s also an ass.”

  “Just talk to him.”

  “No.”

  “He misses you. He’s really bad off.”

  My heart clenches tighter. “Too bad.”

  Chris runs a hand over the back of his neck in obvious frustration and I take pity on him.

  “It’s not fair for him to send you as his messenger.”

  “He didn’t send me.”

  “Then why come? He didn’t want you to drag me back to him. Not sure if he told you but this was his decision to end things. He hasn’t called or texted. Hasn’t shown up here. If he wanted to see me he knows where I’m at.”

  “You’re both stubborn as hell, you know that?”

  I just shrug and stare at the center of his forehead to avoid his piercing eyes.

  “Fine…I’ll take a Jack and Coke.”

  “Coming right up.”

  I take a minute behind the bar to take a deep breath as I make his drink. I refuse to listen to this shit. Chris means well but really. Does he have a clue about his own brother? Max told me to kindly fuck off. Doesn’t sound to me like a guy that’s depressed and missing me.

  It isn’t Chris’s fault his brother is a dismissive asshole with commitment issues. I replay this mantra in my mind as I deliver the Jack and Coke. Not his fault. Not his fault.

  I smile, set the drink down in front of him and turn to leave when he calls my name.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you doing ok?”

  He asks this with sincerity. Genuine concern. It makes me feel like I’m far from okay. “I don’t know.”

  “Sit.”

  “I’m not a dog.”

  “Sit your ass down and talk.”

  “I’m working.”

  “There’s like three people here and two of them are us. I think it’ll be ok.”

  I look around for an excuse to walk off. A person needing a drink or a table needing to be cleaned. But sure enough there’s only one other customer at the bar nursing a beer and I had already wiped down every table twice out of boredom.

  Resigned to my fate, I pull out a chair and sit across from him.

  “You don’t know if you’re ok?”

  “I refuse to talk to you about this. You’re his brother. It’s too weird.”

  “Ok. Well why don’t I talk? You just listen.” I nod. Not talking sounds good to me. “I don’t give a shit about anyone really. Max is literally one of two people besides myself I give half a fuck about. And he’s been through some shit…but I’ve never seen my brother moping around as much as I have these last few weeks. Why do you think that is Lacey?”

  I shrug again. It’s all I can expend m
y energy on because this conversation is too exhausting.

  I just want to crawl in my bed under the warm, safe covers and not feel anything or hear any more of what he has to say. But he keeps talking and I have no choice but to listen.

  “It’s because of you.”

  “That’s not my fault.” I snap, my anger giving me a surge of energy.

  “I know it’s not. Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you guys or what went down after I left. He won’t tell me anything. But I know he’s different now. And I need to get out of town for a little while to take care of some things with myself but I can’t do that if I’m worried about him.”

  “He’s grown. You don’t have to take care of him. He made his bed. Let him lay in it.”

  “I’m his big brother whether he’s grown or not.”

  As an only child I can’t fathom the relationship. Can’t imagine seeking out some cranky girl at a bar on a Tuesday night to try to convince her to give my sibling another chance because I can’t handle watching him brood. It’s so foreign to me. But I can see the love for Max painted plainly on his face.

  I wish someone loved me that much. I suppose my parents do but I can’t tell them things the way I could with a sibling. Sex, heartbreak and bad decisions were certainly off the table topics.

  I had watched Max and Chris enough before things turned to shit. There was a bond there that couldn’t be logically explained. They pissed each other off to no end and rivaled over every little thing. But they didn’t turn their back on each other.

  Not until the night I came between them and caused their explosive fight.

  I’m glad they were able to work through things. I don’t want to get between them and weaken their bond. Seemed like he was better off now that I was out of the picture. At least he had his brother back.

  Chris senses we’re at a stalemate and once he finishes his Jack and Coke decides to leave. He drops a ten on the table to cover his bill plus a pretty hefty tip and disappears out the door while I’m bringing the only other patron a Blue Moon.

  I pocket the tip and spend the rest of the evening feeling like an ass for giving him such a hard time. It really wasn’t his fault.

  I was still nursing a broken heart and rejection but it wasn’t right to take it out on him. He was just trying to help.

  I muddle through the rest of the night with a small handful of regulars stopping in for a beer after work before heading home. By closing time I convince myself that I need to apologize to Chris for my bitchy behavior.

  First thing in the morning I’ll bring him a coffee, knowing damn well Max wasn’t keeping him adequately caffeinated, and would make my peace. Max had class on Wednesday morning so if I was lucky I could be in and out without him knowing.

  Hopefully I could give Chris what he needed to put all of this to rest, knowing he did what he could to reconcile us and it just wasn’t meant to happen. He said he had somewhere to go and the worry was holding him back. Maybe I could help settle his mind.

  The thought sends another stab to my chest and I choose to ignore it. It’s probably heartburn. Clogged arteries perhaps? Maybe I should lay off tomato sauce and fried foods for a while.

  ✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

  The next morning I stand at Max’s door bright and early with a cup of coffee in each hand. When I pulled up I visually scanned the parking lot for his car and breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t here.

  I just want to apologize to Chris for being a bitch and get out of here. Quick.

  I manage to knock with the back of my hand while gripping the steaming cups. I hope like hell he can hear it. From what I remember Chris sleeps like the dead. If he isn’t already awake this planned apology will never happen.

  The door swings open and Chris steps back to let me in. He doesn’t look surprised to see me. I follow him into the kitchen and put his coffee on the kitchen table, clutching mine and allowing the warmth to comfort me. Being in the apartment sends a tight pinch to my chest.

  It takes a moment for me to notice the tension in the air and the fact that he’s pacing back and forth in front of the sink.

  “I’m sorry about last night. I just wanted to bring you a coffee and apologize.”

  He barely glances up at me and continues wearing down the tiles.

  “Is…is everything ok?”

  “Yeah, yeah it’s fine.” He grabs the coffee from the table and takes a drink. “It’s ok.”

  “I was really rude to you.”

  “It’s cool. Thanks for the coffee. You should go.”

  I’m taken off guard by how short he’s being. He walks me to the front door and I start to worry Max is almost home. Maybe he wants to rush me out before he has to mediate another awkward encounter between the two of us.

  When he kindly hurries me to the door a loud knock rattles through the wood. It radiates into the walls. Even the kitchen table clatters on the floor in the other room.

  Chris freezes.

  I freeze.

  Another angry knock jars him back to life and he reaches to open the door. There’s a man standing in the doorway. Medium height. He’s wearing a soft yellow dress shirt tucked into navy dress pants neatly.

  “I suspected I would find you here.”

  Chris stiffens more, his anxiety coming to a peak as he stands before this man. I take a closer look and notice familiar features.

  Dark brown hair. Angular jaw. Hazel eyes. The similarities between the three of them are uncanny and I can’t believe I didn’t see it immediately. He looks past Chris, suddenly noticing me standing there.

  “Well hello there.” He shoots a charming smile at me and extends his hand. “I’m Brad Davis. Chris’s dad.”

  I reach for his hand reluctantly, fighting against the chills I get when I meet his eyes. They’re different than his sons. The shade is identical but there’s something missing.

  There’s something under the surface that doesn’t sit right with me. I remember everything Max has told me about him. Before our hands meet Chris shoulder bumps me out of his dad’s reach.

  “Lacey give us a minute.” He casts me a serious expression, almost pleading as he motions to Max’s bedroom.

  I hesitate, the hairs on my arms standing. Something is very wrong.

  “Ok.”

  He gives me an encouraging smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. I see the worry in them and pure fear sparks. I know Chris to be carefree and silly or moody and brooding. Even when he stopped by Blue’s last night and straight up told me he was worried about Max it was nothing compared to this.

  I take a small step back to put distance between us but I don’t leave the room outright.

  Chris’s unease is palpable and that scares me even more. I’m not able to do anything to help the situation. I don’t want to get in the way. I don’t want to leave him alone to deal with whatever the hell this was that was unfolding right there in the doorway either.

  “I knew your brother was lying to me. He never was very good at it. I didn’t know he was hiding two things from me though.”

  Cold eyes zero in on me standing near the hallway. A chilling smile graces his lips. It looks more like a sneer.

  “It’s only been a couple days, Dad. He hasn’t lied to you about anything.”

  “Do I look stupid to you?” His voice holds a hint of warning.

  Chills break out across my arms, the hair still standing at attention at the malice in his tone.

  Chris continues stuttering and scrambling for excuses. At least that’s what it sounds like to me. My mind is rushing to keep up with what I’m seeing and hearing.

  Just when I think it can’t get any worse or that I can’t regret showing up here unannounced more than I already do, I hear Max’s voice.

  “Dad? What are you doing here?”

  He hasn’t seen me yet. The three of them stand in the doorway, no one bothering to step fully in or out. The door is wide open and I sincerely hope none of the neighbors
walk by right now to witness this family spat.

  My heart can’t handle seeing Max again and it aches painfully. I ignore the feeling and force my breathing to stay even and quiet, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

  As if reading my thoughts, Brad finds me across the room. Two other sets of eyes follow and I suddenly find myself the center of attention. No one speaks a word for a moment as tension rises and thickens. It’s too substantial to take a deep breath.

  “Which one of you boys found this one?”

  “Leave her out of this.” Max says tightly.

  “Ah. Max.” He turns his attention to his youngest son, noting his clenched fists. “She sure is cute.”

  The way he looks at me makes my skin crawl. It’s like dollar signs are in his eyes calculating my worth.

  “No.” Max’s voice is firm but I can hear the fear in his tone. The same fear Chris had when Brad first got here. They didn’t want me around him and I could see why. “That’s not what’s happening. That’s not why she’s here.”

  “Well why is she here then?” Brad asks, causing Max to open his mouth to reply but he’s unable to come up with an answer. “With your brother….alone…”

  Max’s brows crinkle and eyes dart to me and then to Chris.

  “Max, don’t listen to him. Nothing like that is going on.” Chris explains.

  Brad is trying to plant doubt and suspicion and my stomach drops in dread. What if Max believes what he’s trying to imply? He already broke up with me. It’s not like his dad could ruin things between us any more than they already were. No way could he make shit more over than it already was.

  But I still didn’t want him thinking that of me. And I sure as hell didn’t want him thinking that of Chris, ruining their relationship more than I managed to do already by taking that damn morphine pill for my headache.

  My pain had been insurmountable that night, throbbing in my skull, but I regret taking that pill more than anyone could imagine. It set our breakup into motion. Without it maybe I could have dragged this thing between us out longer. Made it last just a while longer.

  One night of pain in my head would have been more tolerable than weeks of pain in my heart.

  “Don’t do that.” Max says to his dad, seeing what he’s doing just as clearly as I can.