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The Fire Between High & Lo (Elements #2)

Page 18

by Brittainy Cherry


  As she ate, tears kept falling down her face.

  “You’re crying,” I said.

  “Am I?” She wiped at her face. She gave me another smile. But it was such a broken grin. “How’s Kellan?” she asked.

  “Did you know about the…”

  She nodded.

  “He’s okay. He asked me to come to a therapy meeting with him next week. He’s going to beat this, ya know. He’s tough.”

  “Yeah,” she murmured, eating more than I’d seen her eat in a long time. “Yeah. He’s strong. He’s strong.” The tears started falling faster down her cheeks, and I wiped them away. “It’s my fault though, you know. I did this to him… I was a shit mother. I wasn’t there for you boys.”

  “Ma. Come on.” I wasn’t sure what to say, how to make her stop the tears.

  “It’s true. You know it. I messed up. I did this.”

  “You didn’t give him cancer.”

  “But, I didn’t make your lives easy. You went to rehab, Logan. Rehab. I sat with you on your sixteen birthday and we did lines of coke. I fed you my addiction…” She shook her head back and forth. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  She was so broken. She was so lost. Truth was, she’d been wandering around lost in her mind for as long as I could remember. For so long, I’d been so angry at her. I held so much bitterness for the choices she made, but it wasn’t her fault. She was just running round and round on her own hamster wheel, unable to stop repeating all of her same mistakes.

  “We’re all going to be okay, Ma. Don’t worry.” I took her hand in mine, and held on tight.

  Just then, the front door flew open and Ricky came barging in.

  It was amazing how much my hatred for him still existed the moment I saw him.

  “Julie, what the fuck?” he hissed. He looked much different than when I last saw him five years ago, though. He seemed…broken down? Old. Tired. His fancy suits that he used to wear were replaced with sweatpants and T-shirts. His fancy shoes were now sneakers. His once-buff arms weren’t as strong and defined as they’d been before.

  I wondered if he was using the stuff he sold.

  “You owe me fifty dollars,” he hollered, and paused when he saw me. His head tilted to the left, bewilderment in his stare. “Did a ghost just cross my path?” My chest tightened the same way it always did whenever he came across my path. It only took a moment before his confusion turned into a sinister smirk. He seemed pleased by my return, almost as if he knew I’d be back.

  “You know,” he walked toward me, his chest pushed out. “There were rumors going around saying you were back, but I figured it was just bullshit. Now that you’re back, you can come join me in the family business.”

  “I’m never going to do that. I’m never going down that road again.”

  His eyes narrowed and I watched his serious inhales and exhales. Then he laughed. “I love that. I love that you honestly think that you’re strong enough to stay clean.” He came nose to nose with me, and instead of backing down, I stood tall. I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I couldn’t be afraid. He pushed my chest with his, trying to make me back down. “But I know you, Logan. I see in your eyes the same weak bitch that resides in your mother. There’s no way you’ll ever manage to keep away.”

  I watched tears form in Ma’s eyes as he said that. It had to feel like a dagger to her soul, because all her life all she ever did was love him. She wasted so many years loving a man who loved to control and belittle her.

  “Don’t talk about my mom,” I said, standing up for her because she hadn’t a clue how to stand up for herself.

  He snickered. “I love your mom. Julie, don’t I love you? She’s my one and only. You’re it for me, baby.”

  Mom kind of smiled, as if she believed him.

  Something I’d never understand.

  He made me sick. “You don’t love her. You love controlling her because it hides the fact that you yourself are nothing but a fucking rat.”

  I flinched when I felt his fist contact my eye. “This fucking rat can still kick your ass, little boy. I’m not going to waste any more time on you, though. Julie. Give me my money.”

  Her voice shook with fear. “Ricky, I don’t have it right now. I’ll get it though. I just have to…” He went to hit her, and I stepped in front of him, this time blocking his hit.

  “So what, you went off to some fancy rehab place and come back thinking you can just step back into this place, Logan?” he asked, annoyed. “Trust me, you don’t want me as your enemy.”

  I reached into my pocket and grabbed my wallet, counting out fifty bucks. “Here. Take it and go.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Did I say fifty? I meant seventy.”

  Asshole. I pulled out another twenty, and shoved it at him. He willingly accepted the bills, stuffing it into his pocket. He bent down in front of the lasagna. “You make this, son?” he asked, knowing that calling me son would get under my skin. He took a spoonful of the food, then spit it out, back into the pan, ruining the whole thing. “Tastes like ass.”

  “Ricky,” Ma said, going to defend me, but he shot her a look that shut her up.

  He stole her voice so long ago, and she had no clue how to find it. “You act like I don’t take care of you, Julie. That’s really offensive. Don’t forget who was there for you when this boy walked out and left you. And you wonder why it’s so hard for me to love you. You betray me every second you get.”

  Her head lowered.

  “And this? Him bringing you food and groceries? That doesn’t mean he cares about you, Julie.” He opened the cabinets and the refrigerator, grabbing all of the food I bought for Ma, opening each item, and dumping them into a pile on the floor. I wanted to stop him, but Ma told me to say quiet. He opened a box of cereal, locked eyes with me, and slowly poured it on top of everything on the ground, before opening a gallon of milk and doing the same exact thing.

  He then walked over it with his sneakers, and headed to the front door. “I’m going to handle some business,” he said with a smirk. “And Julie?”

  “Yeah?” she whispered, a tremble in her body.

  “Clean that shit up before I get back home.”

  When the door slammed, my heartrate started to go back to normal. “Are you okay, Ma?”

  Her body was tense, and she wouldn’t look at me. “You did this.”

  “What?”

  “He’s right. You left me, and he was there for me. You’re the reason he made this mess. You weren’t there for me. He took care of me.”

  “Ma…”

  “Get out!” she shouted, tears falling down her cheeks. She started toward me, hitting me, just like she used to when I was young. Blaming me because the devil didn’t love her. “Get out! Get out! It’s all your fault. It’s your fault that he doesn’t love me. It’s your fault that this mess is here. It’s your fault that Kellan’s dying. You walked away from us. You left us. You left us. Now leave, Logan. Leave. Leave. Leave!” she shouted, pounding against my chest, her words confusing me, hurting me, burning me. She was hysterical, reminding me too much of the Ma I once knew and hated. Her words were echoing in my mind.

  It’s your fault. It’s your fault that this mess is here. It’s your fault that Kellan’s dying. You left us. You left us. You left us… Kellan’s dying…

  My chest scorched as I blinked over and over again, trying not to fall apart. How did I get back here? How did I find myself in exactly the same kind of position that I was in five years ago? How was I back on the hamster wheel I spent so long running away from?

  She didn’t stop hitting me. She didn’t stop blaming me.

  So I packed up my things and I left.

  ***

  Logan, eleven-years-old

  “Don’t you look comfortable?” Dad stumbled into the living room while I sat on the floor watching Cartoon Network. I ignored him the best I could and continued eating my Captain Crunch cereal out of a bowl. He was smoking a cigarette and smirked at my attem
pt to pretend he wasn’t there.

  It was only four in the afternoon and he was already stumbling. He was already drunk.

  “You deaf, boy?” He moved over to me and ran the back of his hand against my head before he smacked me hard. I shivered at his touch. But I kept ignoring. Kellan knew how bad my dad could get, and he said it was best if I didn’t respond. Kellan was so lucky that he had another dad. I wished I had another dad, too.

  I couldn’t wait for Mom to get back home. She’d been gone for a few days, but when she called me last weekend she said I would see her soon. I wished Dad would leave and stay gone forever.

  When his hand ran against my shoulder blade I flinched again, knocking my cereal bowl out of my hands. He laughed wickedly, pleased by my unease. His hand rose and he slapped me against my ear. “Pick that shit up. And what the hell do you think you’re doing eating cereal at four in the afternoon?”

  I was hungry and it was all we had. But I couldn’t tell him that. I couldn’t tell him anything.

  Standing, I shook as I began to put the pieces of the cereal back into the bowl. Dad started whistling a tune from my cartoon, and my heart started pounding. “Hurry the fuck up, kid. Pick that shit up. Making messes in my house like you don’t have any damn sense.”

  My eyes started to tear up, and I hated that I was letting him get to me. An eleven-year-old was supposed to be tougher. I felt weak.

  “Pick. It. UP!”

  I couldn’t take any more of his drunken anger, his apparent displeasure for me. I picked up the cereal bowl and threw it at him. It missed his head and hit the wall, the bowl shattering into a million pieces. “I hate you!” I hissed, tears burning down my cheeks. “I want Mom back! I hate you!”

  His eyes widened, and I panicked, regretful of my outburst. Kellan would’ve been so disappointed. I shouldn’t have talked back. I shouldn’t have responded. I should’ve locked myself in my bedroom like always.

  But there were no cartoons in my bedroom.

  I just wanted to be a kid, if only for one day.

  Dad swung around and gripped my arm. “You want to get slick? Huh?” He yanked me across the room, forcing me to trip over my own feet. “You want to break shit?!”

  I was dragged through the kitchen, where he opened the cabinet under the sink. “No. I’m sorry, Dad! I’m sorry!” I cried, trying to tear away from his grip.

  He snickered, and pushed me inside of the cabinet. “Here’s your damn cereal,” he said, grabbing the box, and dumping it all out on my head.” When he shut the cabinet door, I tried my best to open it, but it wouldn’t move. He’d placed something in front of it to keep it locked.

  “Please, Dad! I’m sorry!” I cried. “Don’t leave me.”

  I’m sorry.

  He wasn’t listening though, and after a while I didn’t even hear his footsteps.

  I didn’t know how much time had passed since I was locked inside of the cabinet, but I fell asleep twice, and pissed myself. When Mom found me, she looked strung out and shook her head, seeming so disappointed in me.

  “Oh, Logan.” She sighed, and ran her hands through her hair. She lit up a cigarette. “What did you do this time?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Alyssa

  “Do you have any idea how much you’re confusing me, Logan?” I asked, my arms crossed as he stood on my porch in a black T-shirt with dark jeans. I was chilled by the cool breeze that hit me, seeing how I was only wearing an oversized T-shirt and knee-high socks. His back was turned to me as he moved over to the edge of the porch and wrapped his fingers around the railing. He stared out into the darkness. His arms were muscular and I could see every cut to him as he held onto the wooden rail. When we were younger, he was handsome, but not built. Now, he looked somewhat like a Greek god who made my legs tingle just by looking at him.

  “I know. I just… I don’t know where to go.”

  He turned to face me, and I gasped, seeing his blackened eye. With haste, I hurried over to him, lightly touching it, watching him cringe. “Your dad?”

  He nodded. “If I go back to Kellan’s like this, he’ll freak out.”

  Oh, Lo…

  “Are you okay? Is your mom okay?” I asked, and I paused. It was as if we traveled back in time, reliving the same routines we used to perform. I wished this wasn’t one of the more common memories.

  “She’s not okay. But she’s okay.”

  Déjà vu.

  “Come inside,” I said, taking his hand in mine.

  He shook his head, pulling his hold away from mine. “You asked me something the last time we spoke, and I didn’t reply.”

  “What?”

  “You asked me if I think about the baby.” His fingers rubbed the back of his neck. “I think about how at the end of the summer, he or she would’ve been starting kindergarten. I think about how maybe he’d have your laugh, and your eyes. I think about how she’d probably chew on her collar and hiccup when she was nervous. I’d think about how his heart would beat. How she’d love you. How he’d walk, talk, smile, frown. I think about it. More than I want to. And then…” He cleared his throat. “Then I think about you.

  “I think about your smile. About how when you’re nervous you chew on your shirt collars, and when you’re shy you do the same thing. I think about how when you’re angry, you hiccup three times, and that every time your mom puts you down, it still stings. I think about where your mind is at night when it storms, and if you ever, for a second, still think about me.”

  “Lo.” I sighed. “Come inside.”

  “Don’t invite me in,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What?”

  “I said, don’t invite me in.”

  “You don’t want to talk?”

  “No.” He locked eyes with me. “No. I don’t want to talk. I want to forget. I want to make my mind stop remembering all of the bullshit. I want to… High…” He lost his breath, and his words faltered. The tremble in his voice would’ve been missed by someone who didn’t know Logan. But I heard it, I knew him, and his mind was traveling to those dark places again. He stepped in closer, and I stood still. I wanted him closer. I missed him being so close. His hand fell against my cheek and I closed my eyes at his gentle touch. “I want to talk to you, but I can’t. Because then we’ll be back to where we were all those years ago, and I can’t go back to that, Alyssa. I can’t fall back in love with you. I can’t hurt you again.”

  My heart skipped. “Is that why you’ve been so mean to me?” He nodded slowly. “Logan. We can just be friends. We don’t have to be in a relationship. Just come inside, and we can talk.”

  “I can’t be your friend. I don’t want to talk to you, because when I talk, I hurt. And I don’t want to hurt anymore. But… I can’t stay away from you. I’m trying to, but I can’t. I want you, High.” His words sent chills down my spine, and fogged my mind. “I want to run my hands through your hair,” he whispered, taking his fingers and combing my curls behind my ear. “I want to run my tongue across your neck. I want to feel you.” His hand ran against my cheek. “I want to taste you,” His mouth slowly licked the curve of my neck. “I want to suck you.” His lips engulfed my earlobe, sucking it gently. “I want to…Fuck…” He sighed, pulling me closer. “I want you, Alyssa. I want you so much. I want you so hard and deep that my mind can’t think of anything else. So please, to avoid any more confusion between us,” he hissed against my earlobe, before sucking it lightly. “Don’t invite me in.”

  My heart was racing, and I took a few steps backwards until I was pressed up against the wall of my house. He grew closer, his arms boxing me in. His eyes dilated as they locked with mine, filled with need, want, hope…? Or maybe it was my own hope, which I’d prayed still existed within his stare. My thighs quivered, my mind a jumbled mess. A part of me wondered if I were dreaming, while a bigger part of me didn’t care. I wanted this dream. I missed this dream. I longed for this dream over the past five years. I wanted to feel his body pressed aga
inst mine. I wanted to feel how much he missed me. I wanted to lean in closer and kiss him.

  I wanted to feel him…

  Taste him…

  Suck him…

  Lo…

  “Logan,” I murmured, unable to take my stare away from his lips, which were almost touching mine. Logan moved that gorgeous body closer to me, lifting my chin so we stared straight into one another’s eyes. His lips reminded me of the summer when kissing was all we’d do. Reminding me of the first boy I’d ever loved and the first and only boy who managed to break my heart. “You’re sad tonight.” My head tilted to the left and I studied every part of him. His hair, his mouth, his jawline, his soul. The dark shadows that were always in the depths of his eyes. His breaths were heavy, unsteady like mine.

  “I’m sad tonight,” he agreed. “I’m sad every night. Alyssa, I never meant to hurt you by not returning your calls.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago. We were kids.”

  “I’m not that same boy anymore, Alyssa. I swear I’m not.”

  I nodded. “I know, and I’m not that same girl anymore." But a part of my soul remembered our yesterdays. A part of my soul still felt the fire that Logan and I started to build many years before. And sometimes, in the quiet moments between daylight and night, I swore I still felt its warmth. “That’s why I want you to come inside tonight. Because I’m sad, too. No commitment. No promises. Just a few moments to forget, together.”

  His fingers started lifting my T-shirt, and my eyes closed from the pleasure that simple act brought me. A small moan escaped me as his thumb rolled against the fabric of my panties, and then he pressed harder, sliding his thumb up and down. His tongue danced against my earlobe before he sucked it hard. His right hand gripped my ass as his left moved my panties to the side, allowing him to slide a finger deep inside of me.

  One finger.

  Two fingers.

  Three fingers…

  My pants were heavy, my needs even stronger. My hips arched in his direction, wanting his hardness inside of me. I grinded against his fingers, begging for the touch that I missed so much.

 

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