Pieces of Me

by Tich Brewster

  Opening my eyes, I blink rapidly to bring moisture back to them. It’s dark outside and I am lying on the sofa with a blanket draped over me. Beneath my head is a leg and I roll over to see Eryc asleep, sitting up and his neck dangling off to the side in an awkward position.

  That neck-breaking position is going to leave him with a major crick. After everything he has done for me since mom’s accident, I cannot allow him to suffer from a stiff, sore neck in the morning. Sliding my legs off the side of the sofa, I start to rise but his arm snakes around me, holding me in place.

  “Don’t.” When I look at him again, he smiles groggily. “Stay.”

  What? Did Eryc just ask me to stay on the sofa and sleep next to him? “Stay?” I ask, wanting clarification.

  Conflicting emotions rage war in my mind, tightening the muscle in my chest known as my heart. Part of me wants to move to the opposite side of the sofa and get some distance between us. Being sexually abused takes its toll on a person and there are times that a single touch sparks fear in me. But the other part of me, the part that longs for Eryc’s touch, is screaming for release. Screaming for me to trust and allow him to comfort me.

  Liquid warmth heats my body from within as his arm tightens a little more. “Yes.” He smiles down at me. “Stay here with me.”

  What I am about to say goes way out of my comfort zone but Eryc is my one true and best friend. A friend that has never taken advantage of me or abused me in any way. I have known him my entire life. He is safe, he is gentle, and he is the kindest soul I have ever met.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I count to ten and then release it. “Okay.”

  His smile grows wider.

  “But only if you lay on this sofa next to me.” Raising a brow, he shakes his head and opens his mouth to object but I cut him off. “You’re going to get the worst crick in your neck if you continue sleeping like that.”

  Those brown eyes of his darken. It looks as if I may have offended him, which was not my intent. His eyes rove to a spot above me. Apparently, these new feelings I am experiencing are one sided. It looks as though he doesn’t like me the way that I like him.

  Pain pierces my heart and my gut twists into a knot. The intensity of it overwhelms me and tears begin to blur my vision.

  I want to take my words back but I can’t. There is no taking back what I have spoken, my words are now hanging in the air between us.

  Removing his arm from my side, he shifts his body until he successfully removes himself from under my head. My aching heart breaks into tiny pieces and the built-up tears slide down my cheeks before I can stop them. Humiliated and dying inside, I stand and rush from the room.

  “Makayla.” His voice is soft and comforting. It causes me to stop but I can’t look at him. The soles of his chucks thud on the hardwood with each step he takes. In a few beats, he is standing behind me and I can feel the warmth radiating from the closeness of his body.

  The hairs at my nape move when he exhales.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Eryc

  Her request is innocent and I know she doesn’t mean anything by it, but after everything I read in her journal I’m not sure that her suggestion is a good idea. When I asked her to stay with me, I meant for us to stay the way we were with plenty of space between our bodies.

  The words penned in that notebook, in her beautiful handwriting and splotched by her tears, haunt me. And the last thing I want to do is lie next to her in an intimate way and cause her any more pain, or to have her wake up in a panic because she has forgotten that I am lying next to her.

  Carefully, I scoot myself out from under her head. Rounding the coffee table, I stride to the window and brush the curtain aside. Streetlights illuminate the paved roads. A dog sniffs the mailbox across the road, then runs down the sidewalk and out of sight. Shadows dance on the street from the tree limbs blowing in the breeze.

  She has no idea what she is asking. Aside from my worry about how lying next to her will affect her, what if Thaddeus walks in and sees us. That boy will go postal on me. Or maybe, he wouldn’t. Maybe he would understand that Makayla and I have been friends for our entire lives and that she is safe with me.

  When she sniffles, I realize that I have given her the wrong impression and have hurt her feelings. She must think I hate her but nothing could be further from the truth. I love her, more than just a friend. Because of my love for her, I want to protect her.

  Her bare feet thud on the hardwood floor as she runs from the room.

  “Makayla.” Dropping the curtain, I quickly make my way toward her.

  Her shoulders slump and her head droops, causing her hair to drape around her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest—” Her words are cut off by a sob.

  Gripping her shoulders, I gently turn her until she is facing me. Her head is still down so I place my finger under her chin and guide her head upward until she is looking at me. Tears are streaming down her cheeks in a steady flow.

  The sight of her so broken kills me. A pain stabs my heart, like a knife, slicing downward and severing the organ in half.

  “You misunderstood me.” I cup her cheek and caress her smooth skin with my thumb. Her eyes close at my touch. “My reservation has nothing to do with my feelings toward you but rather the trauma that you have endured.” More tears fall, coating my fingers. “Kay, the last thing I want to do is cause you any more pain than you have already suffered.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she nods her head. “Okay.” She looks defeated, like I have stolen all the joy from her life.

  Kissing her forehead, I wrap an arm around her and guide her back to the living room. “Come on, I’ll get some blankets and pillows from the closet and make us a pallet on the floor.”

  With wide, puffy eyes, she looks at me. “So, you’ll stay?”

  The fear I see hidden in the depths of her green eyes tugs on my heartstrings. I tap her nose with a finger. “Of course, I’ll stay.”

  A hint of a smile graces her lips. “Thank you, Eryc. Thank you for everything.”

  “Hey,” I cup her face with both of my hands. “You don’t need to thank me. You are my best friend, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I hope you know that.”

  “I do.” Makayla sniffles. “You’re a good man, Eryc.” Her hands cover mine, her skin soft like velvet. “You’re the bestest friend a girl could ever ask for.”

  I laugh at her use of bestest. “I’m pretty sure that isn’t really a word.”

  “It is, trust me.” She smiles. “I mean it. You are the best.”

  For her I will always be the best I can be. She is the only girl I have ever cared enough for to be the best friend that she describes me as.

  I kiss her forehead, again, lingering a little longer than necessary. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  Heading to the hall closet, I gather three blankets and two pillows. When I enter the living room, Makayla is sitting on the edge of the coffee table, her leg bouncing manically. She stands and holds out her hands.

  There is no way I’m going to let her help me spread out these blankets, so I hand her the two pillows and a couple of pillowcases. She gives me a curious look but takes them and begins tugging the pillowcases on the large, fluffy pillows.

  I spread the thickest blanket down and unfold the other two, placing one on each side of the makeshift bed. Makayla tosses the pillows down and looks at me expectantly.

  “Pick a side,” I say.

  While she gets comfortable, I remove my shoes then settle in next to her, careful to tuck her blanket under her and create enough space between us that we are not in each other’s personal space.

  She is facing me and biting her bottom lip, a clear sign that she is nervous.

  Placing my hand on her shoulder, I say, “Go to sleep, Kay. I’m not going anywhere.”

  With the confirmation of my words, she closes her eyes and soon her breathing evens out and I know that she has finally allowed sleep
to take her under.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Makayla

  The creak of the backdoor echoes in the all-too-silent house and I hold my breath as I listen. Most likely it’s just Thaddeus and not some burglar breaking and entering.

  At least I’m hoping that is the case, otherwise we are royally screwed.

  Keys jingle, hit the floor, then jingle again before landing on the hallway table. Yep, it’s Thaddeus and he is being clumsy which means he is probably drunk as a skunk. Judging by how slowly he is walking, I’m guessing he is trying to tiptoe but failing miserably because his thick boots thud heavily on the hardwood floor with each step he takes.

  Peering over Eryc’s sleeping form, I watch my brother fumble with his boots.

  Lifting his foot, he tries to untie the laces but stumbles, hops a few steps, and falls into the wall. Cursing and swaying, he walks the two feet to the staircase and sits, or rather falls, onto the bottom step.

  Once he gains his balance, he sets to work on untying his boots. It is clear that the feat isn’t easy for him and a few more whispered curse words tumble out of his mouth.

  When he stands, his body sways and he takes a wobbly step up the stairs, clutching the banister like a cane. Before he can manage to get himself up one more stair, I call out to him.

  “Thad?” I try to keep my voice low as to not wake Eryc.

  Whipping his head around, he looks toward the living room. He must be having difficulty seeing in the dark because he cups his hands around his eyes like he is looking through a window. “Makayla?”

  “I’m in the living room, Thad, on the floor.” Eryc shifts but soft snores continue to fall from his lips. I lower my voice so I don’t disturb him further. “I was worried about you. Where were you?”

  Thaddeus squats next to me. “Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

  I hate when he behaves this way. Of course, I’m going to worry about him, he is my brother, my twin. He must know that I can feel his pain. We are linked like only twins can be. I just wish he would trust me enough to let me help him. “Thad, seriously?”

  His lips form a hard, tight line. “Leave me be, Makayla.” Then, as if to soften the blow of his harsh words, he touches my cheek and smiles. “Don’t worry about me. You really should rest, you have to take care of yourself.”

  My brother is so irritating.

  I don’t want to rest because I am worried that he is drinking himself into an early grave. “I can’t rest when you’re out there giving yourself alcohol poisoning and killing your liver.”

  A puff of air blows from his mouth and the sour scent of too much whiskey hits my nostrils, burning the sensitive skin there.

  Seeing me scrunch my nose in distaste, he turns his head in what I can only assume is embarrassment. “Makayla,” his eyes meet mine again, “you’re not my mother.”

  I take his hand and squeeze. “No, I’m not, but right now you are the only family I have to lean on. I need you. I need my brother, Thad.”

  Sadness fills his face and he plops down on his butt. When he shuts his eyes a tear slowly trails down his cheek. “Makayla, I’m so sorry that I got you mixed up with that crowd. I never should have introduced you to Brandt and his goonies.”

  The pain in his voice brings fresh tears to my eyes. He shouldn’t be apologizing to me. It was not his stupidity that hurt me, it was Brandt and his stupidity. My brother is not responsible for the actions of those blazing idiots.

  Placing my finger over his lips, I stop his heart wrenching apology. “Look, Thad, I don’t blame you. Yes, those bloomin’ idiots hurt me. Yes, I have had a difficult time dealing with what they did to me. Yes, I fell into a dark place where death looked like my only option. But I never once blamed you. You did nothing wrong. The only ones responsible are the ones that participated and let it happen.”

  Those words taste like acid in my mouth. Yes, I believe that Brandt, Vince, and Lee are the ones responsible, but I also feel like I’m to blame. I could have fought harder. Instead of agreeing to go to those parties, night after night, I could have stayed home. Heck, I could have told someone about the things they did to me.

  I’m to blame for not doing anything to prevent Brandt from taking advantage of me. But that blame is not for Thaddeus. He did nothing wrong. There was no way he could have known the damage his friends had done to me.

  Every day since that first incident, I took great care to plaster a smile on my face so no one could see the hell I was living in.

  Tears start freefalling down Thaddeus’s face and his shoulders shake with the heartbreaking sobs. Laying down beside me, Thaddeus lets out all the pain and hurt he has been keeping locked away.

  I feel Eryc stirring behind me but I ignore him. My brother needs me right now, so I pull him close and comfort him.

  Eryc places a soft kiss to the back of my head, giving me the support I need while I do the same for my brother. I could not have asked for a better friend than Eryc. He gives me strength and courage just by being by my side.

  I stroke Thaddeus’s hair while his cries echo throughout the house. Those pain filled wails mirror what I have been battling internally since July. It absolutely kills me that my brother is hurting this badly over a situation he had no control over.

  After what feels like hours but was probably only minutes, Thaddeus quiets his sobbing and sits up. Pulling his shirt over his head, he uses it to wipe his face and then blows his snotty nose on it.

  Bending over, he kisses my forehead then nods toward Eryc. “He’s good for you, sis. You seem awfully peaceful with him around. That makes my heart happy.”

  “Yes.” I peek behind me, at Eryc. His eyes are closed but I know he isn’t sleeping. It seems the words my brother just spoke resonated with Eryc because I catch the smile on his face. “He’s the best. With him here, I have actually been able to sleep soundly.”

  “That’s good.”

  Looking back at my brother, I add, “Instead of the nightmares that have been plaguing me for weeks, I was actually having a peaceful dream for once.”

  A smile breaks out on Thaddeus’s face. “Maybe he’s your guardian angel, or knight in shining armor, or something to that effect.” Brushing hair off my forehead, my brother leans forward and kisses me between my eyebrows. “Get some sleep, sis. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I point toward the staircase. “Try not to fall down the stairs, I’d hate to see you break your neck in a drunken fall.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Standing, he leaves the room on unsteady feet.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Eryc

  I hate that I am lying here awake, eavesdropping on their conversation. To give them the illusion of privacy, I do my best to appear to be asleep.

  When Thaddeus leaves and I can no longer hear his footsteps above us, I lean up on my elbow, resting my head in my hand. “Your brother loves you very much.”

  She rolls over to face me. “Yeah, I know. I love him just as much.” Biting her bottom lip, Makayla scrunches her face like she is thinking of how to phrase her next words. “Um, how much of that conversation did you pay attention to?”

  I shrug a shoulder. “Oh, not much.”

  Makayla rolls her eyes. “You are such a liar.”

  Guilty.

  I never could lie to her, she can read my face like an open book. So, I smile at her and brush a wild lock of hair out of her face. “Yes, I am.” My hand has not moved from her hair and my thumb gently caresses the tip of her ear. “I’m your knight in shining armor, huh?”

  Makayla’s eyes squeeze shut and a groan rumbles out of her. I picture pink tinting her cheeks a lovely rose color. It’s too dark for me to see if she is blushing though.

  I chuckle.

  She is adorable when she is embarrassed.

  “Oh, come on,” I say. “It’s not that bad.”

  Peeking at me with one eye, then the other, she seems to size me up. Maybe she is looking to see if Thaddeus’s statement abou
t me being her knight in shining armor was offensive to me.

  It wasn’t.

  “No, I suppose not.” Pushing herself up, she reaches over and snags the television remote off the coffee table. “Do you mind if I turn on the TV? I’m not really tired anymore.”

  There is no way I can fall back to sleep either. My mind is wide awake now. “Go ahead, I’m not really tired either.”

  A click of the remote brings the television to life. The screen lights up to reveal one of those god-awful infomercials. I hate those stupid things, who in their right mind watches these long tedious infomercials with overpriced crap? Not me, that’s for sure.

  A man who is probably in his early thirties, is animatedly talking about this hair color product that is covering his graying head.

  My brows furrow. I have my doubts about his graying hair since he looks too young to have any. He is demonstrating the product, which looks like a spray can. Really? What is this, and are people actually going to believe this load of horse pucky?

  Shaking my head at this nonsense, I stand. “Do you still like popcorn with lots of butter and salt?”

  Using the coffee table to push herself up off the floor, Makayla sits on the sofa. “Yes, of course.” Snagging the square pillow from the other end of the sofa, she throws it at me. It misses me and lands next to my feet.

  Seeing her like this, playful and with a smile on her face, is the best thing I have witnessed in a good long while. To play along, I dramatically fall to the ground clutching my chest. My reaction causes her to laugh out loud. That laugh is a beautiful sound that I could listen to all day.

  A shift in the light coming from the television draws her attention to the screen and I use this opportunity to pick up the pillow and toss it back at her. She laughs some more and then hugs the pillow to her chest.

  “I’ll be right back with your popcorn.”

  “Okie dokie.” She curls her feet under her and begins flipping through channels in her search for something to watch.