by Marie York
I hated that she was there alone, and that I was stuck in a prison cell when I should have been with her. Hated that Beckham knew more about the girl I was in love with than I did.
“Can’t this car move any faster?” I seethed, wishing I had Tanya with me. I would’ve been halfway to the hospital by now, instead of just getting to the end of the fucking street. Beckham laughed. “What the fuck is so funny?” I demanded.
“I just never thought I’d see the day where Nixon ‘Viper’ Bennett was affected by a girl. What happened to, ‘they’re nothing more than a body and a hole’?”
I cracked my neck from side to side. “She’s different.”
“Maybe now you get it.”
“Get what?”
“When it happens, it just happens. You don’t choose it. It’s what happened with me and your sister.”
I held my hand up. “Stop talking.”
“For fuck sakes, Nix. I’m trying here.”
“When did you turn into such a bitch?” I asked, and he dramatically rested his head on the headrest. I could see his frustrations in the way he gripped the wheel, and maybe I wasn’t ready to forgive, but maybe for now, I could forget. “Look. I don’t give a shit what you do. I just don’t want to know about it. Okay?”
His grip loosened on the steering wheel. “I can live with that.”
“Good. Can you stop acting like a sniffling bitch now?”
“One more thing.”
“What? What now?”
He scratched at his chin, and then glanced in my direction. “Talk to your sister.”
“Not going to happen.” After all the years of watching her get praise from our parents while I got shit on, witnessed her be the perfect child I could never be, setting a bar so impossibly high that she purposely made me look like an asshole. There was no way I was just going to talk to her.
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. She hates your guts right now, anyway. I’d doubt she’d even talk to you.”
“And that’s how it should be,” I spat.
“For now,” he muttered, and I could’ve argued, but I just let it go. With Brooklyn in the hospital, everything else seemed like a waste of breath.
I didn’t know fear and I assumed what was eating at my gut would be the closest thing to fear I would ever feel. It was a nagging, annoying pang in my stomach that wouldn’t go away.
I kept reminding myself that Brooklyn was strong, but I couldn’t hide from the thoughts in the back of my mind. The way she looked the last time I had seen her… bruised, bloody and broken.
Sometimes strength wasn’t enough.
Chapter 26
Nixon
Beckham pulled into the parking lot, and I was out of the car before he even had a chance to come to a stop. I ran toward the doors when I heard Beckham call out my name.
“Room 222. Second floor.”
I nodded and took off as he climbed back into the car. I ignored the check in sign, and as I flew past it, the woman behind the desk yelled out. “Hey! You need to check in first.”
I didn’t fucking think so, I thought as I kept going, besides it’s not like she’d run after me. I bet the only exercise she got was lifting her arm to stuff a donut in her face. I’d already had enough distractions and wasted too much damn time. I wasn’t about to stop and go through some fucking spiel when the only thing keeping me from Brooklyn was a ceiling.
There was a line at the elevator so fuck that. I ran to the stairs and took them two at a time. I pushed through the door and searched for something that would tell me where 222 was. I finally spotted a plaque with numbers and an arrow pointing to the right for rooms 215-225.
Brooklyn’s room was at the end of the hall, and I nearly took out a nurse as I hurried to get to it. “Brooklyn?” I yelled, as I grabbed the door to stop my momentum, and made a quick turn into the room.
I looked to my right only to find a woman who looked half dead, her mouth open, and she was snoring louder than a freight train. The dividing curtain was pulled all the way forward, so I bypassed the lying dead to finally get to Brooklyn.
Her face looked even worse than I remembered. Blacks mixed with blues and yellows mixed with purples. Her one eye was still swollen shut and the other was now marked with broken blood vessels.
Seeing her like that made me sick. Consumed me in guilt. I wanted to go to the morgue and beat the shit out of Karl’s already dead body, but I doubted that would bring me any real satisfaction. I was so outraged at him for what he did to her, but more pissed off at myself for not getting there on time
The asshole was dead, and I should’ve been grateful for that, but a part of me wished he had made it, so I could’ve had my turn with him. I would’ve killed him all right, but it would have been a long, slow and torturous death. By the time I’d been done with him, he’d have been begging for me to end his miserable, pathetic life. And I would have done so with a smile on my face.
Unfortunately, I would never have the satisfaction in taking life away from the man who abused the only girl I ever wanted. I only hoped that Brooklyn would feel vindication in her actions and not guilt nor regret.
She looked like fucking hell, but I didn’t care. She was alive, breathing and healing. It was the best sight I had ever seen. Her good eye glanced up at me and the smile I was expecting was lost to the trepidation engulfing her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
I sat down on the bed and the desire to touch her turned into a need. I took her hand in mine and ran my thumb across her bruised knuckles. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been locked up, and the entire time all I could think about was you, and how I wasn’t here. How you were dealing with this on your own.”
She pulled her hand back from me, and tucked it beneath her arm. It wasn’t just her hand, either; she was pulling away from me in every way she could. “I’m fine.”
Anger reared its ugly head at her blatant lie. “You’re not fine. Have you looked in a goddamned mirror?”
“It’s just a few bruises. They’ll go away. I appreciate you coming, but I’ve been on my own for some time now. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
I rested a gentle hand on her arm. “That’s because you didn’t have anyone to take care of you, but I’m here now.”
She shook her head and a determined look settled on her face. “That’s the thing. Karl thought he was taking care of me, too, and for a while, I thought he was. Just assumed the abuse went along with it… Now, I know.”
“Know what?” I asked.
“When a guy wants to take care of you, it’s because they want to control you. And I’m not…”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I interrupted her, unwilling to hear any more of the bullshit coming out of her mouth. I jumped up from the bed, slammed my hand down on her bedside table. I saw her wince and immediately regretted it. I came to a stop at the foot of the bed and stared at her. “Don’t you for even one second, compare me to that piece of shit.”
“I’m not. It’s just… I don’t even really know you. How do I know that two months from now you aren’t going to be a completely different person?”
As hard as it was, I shoved the anger down, and sat back on the bed beside her. I reached up and ran a finger down the side of her face, being careful not to hurt her as I relished in the warmth of her skin. “You don’t. And the God’s honest truth. I don’t either. This is all new to me. But what I do know. Seeing you like this…it’s making me sick to my stomach. Thinking that someone could even think to raise a hand to you makes my blood boil. I would never hurt you. I don’t make promises because they’re impossible to keep, but I can promise you that. I swear to never lay a finger on you or to make you feel inferior to me because you’re not. You’re my equal. The only one I’ve ever met. Don’t push me away.”
For a moment, I thought I saw tears building in her beautiful eyes, but with a blink, they were gone, and made me wonder if I imagined it.
She
took a deep breath and carefully sat up farther on her pillows. “I just need time.”
“Time for what?”
“For me. Time to figure this all out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out. You left him, and if he hadn’t showed up, I know damn well we would’ve been together.”
“You don’t know that.”
I shot up from the bed again, losing my patience and needing to calm my ass down before I said or did something I would later regret. Which was annoying in itself, since I didn’t care enough to ever regret anything. Brooklyn was messing with my goddamned head, and now she kicked it, sending it spiraling in circles.
I took two deep breaths, and went back to her, taking her hand in mine again. “Tell me you don’t feel this. This crazy, unexplainable energy whenever I touch you. The need for more, knowing no matter what it’ll never be enough, but willing to accept any taste of it you can get. Tell me you don’t feel it, and I’ll walk out that door right now. You’ll never hear from me again.” She looked up at me, but didn’t say anything. “Tell me,” I urged.
“I’m scared,” she finally whispered, and for the first time since I got in the room, I could see her opening up to me.
I closed my other hand around hers, and brought it to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You don’t have to be. Not with me.”
“I wish it were that easy, but it’s not. Every time I close my eyes, I see his dead body beneath me. See the blood dripping from the knife, and the lifeless expression on his face. And the vision should scare me, but it doesn’t. It does the complete opposite. It makes me so unbelievably happy. Happy that he’s dead. Happy that I’m finally free, but knowing I killed him, and I can still feel happy… that scares me.”
“You shouldn’t be scared of that. He got what he deserved, and you shouldn’t bear the burden of guilt. You should look at this as a good thing.”
She shook her head. “No. This isn’t good. I killed someone. Watched as their life was sucked right out of them. I shouldn’t be happy about that. I should feel some remorse or sense of grief. There was a time when I was in love with him and I keep thinking shouldn’t that at least mean something? Make me feel bad that he is gone. But still, all I feel is relief. It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“You’re still the same person.”
She was silent for far too long when she finally spoke. “Please just leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I stated.
“You just promised me you would never hurt me. Right?”
I nodded and bit my tongue, not liking the resolve in her gaze.
“You being here right now is hurting me. So, please leave.”
She might as well have taken that knife and stabbed me in the heart because that’s what her words felt like. A direct hit that hurt far worse than I ever imagined possible.
I went to argue, but it was like beating a dead horse. There was no fucking point. So, without a word, not even another glance, I walked away and kept my promise.
Chapter 27
Brooklyn
I held back the tears stinging my eyes for as long as I could, but as soon as Nixon left the room, they poured out of me. Part of me wanted him to stay, to call out to him and beg him to stay, but the other part of me, the part that knew I got him thrown in jail, kept me from saying anything.
Sending him away nearly broke me, but it was for the best. I was no longer the broken girl he knew. I was a killer and I needed to come to terms with it before I let him back in, and he needed to let the dust settle and realize who I was I now. Maybe when that happened, he wouldn’t even want me anymore.
I didn’t want him to stay with me out of pity. I needed to know that if and when we ever wound up together that it would be because we followed our hearts and not because we shared trauma.
So while I wanted more than anything to run after him and collapse into his arms, I fought the urge, using the strength he taught me.
***
Nixon
It was ninety fucking degrees in the hospital, and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. The bitch at the check in yelled at me again as I passed. “Sir? Sir, excuse me.”
“Go suck down another donut, you fat bitch,” I exclaimed, and she gasped like I just punched her in her round gut. Not that I ever would. I’d probably lose my damn hand in there.
The doors parted, and the need to hit something was overwhelming, so I punched the first wall that came into sight. The impact reverberated through my arm, and it felt so fucking good. I went to throw my other fist into the brick, but stopped when I heard Beckham approach.
“What’d that wall ever do to you?” he asked with a laugh, and he was lucky I didn’t sucker punch him. Instead, I turned and all but growled at him. He held his hands up in surrender. “Guessing it didn’t go so well in there?”
“What do you think?” I spat, then ran my hands through my hair trying to get a fucking grip. “What the hell are you still doing here anyway?” I asked, when the rage finally chilled out.
“My flight’s tomorrow and I don’t exactly have a place to stay tonight. Hotels are fucking expensive around here.”
“You stingy bastard.” I turned away from the wall and wiped my bloody knuckles on my pants. Beckham had money. He might’ve hated his dad, but his dad gave him a nice cushion to live off while he was in college.
“I already spent money on a plane ticket and a rental to come give your dumbass a ride home.”
“My dumbass? You’re the idiot who…” I held my hand up. “Never mind. Can you just give me a ride to Tanya, and you can crash at my place tonight?” I was too tired to continue the ‘I hate you’ charade. Beckham fucked up in the past, but he showed up for me today, and that counted for something.
“Point me in a direction.”
We got in Beckham’s rental, and took off toward Brooklyn’s apartment. My mind was running in a thousand fucking directions, and I couldn’t make it stop. What if Brooklyn couldn’t get past whatever she was dealing with? She had ruined every other girl for me. Tainted the life of sloppy, careless sex that I thrived on. I’d never be able to go back to it. There was no more rush. The release I always felt was now just a waste of my time.
I dug my palm into my eye. What the fuck was I moaning about? I was turning into a goddamned bitch right in front of my own eyes and I was allowing it. Fuck that. If Brooklyn wanted nothing to do with me, too damn bad. I knew she wanted me as much as I wanted her. She was just being a martyr. I’d give her tonight to deal with it, but tomorrow, I’d be right back at that hospital, fighting. And if there was one thing I knew; I never lost a fight.
Never.
Beckham pulled into Brooklyn’s apartment complex, and I pointed to Tanya.
“You don’t need to point. I could see that car from fucking space if I had to,” he joked.
“Don’t knock Tanya just because she got me more ass than you’ll ever know.”
He went to say something then stopped himself. Probably for the best because if he said one thing about my sister, I would’ve left him fending for himself for the night. That whole situation still pissed me off, and I was finding it hard to forget about it.
I wanted so badly to see my sister crash and burn for once in her fucking life. To prove to my parents that she wasn’t better than me. That she didn’t deserve to be on a pedestal. Beckham fucked my plan up, and that wasn’t even what I was pissed about.
It was the fact that my sister was happy. She was always fucking happy and I despised her for it. For once, I wanted her to know what it felt like to be a failure.
My jaw clenched as my mind slipped to the past. My parents talking in the living room, unaware that I had come home early, going on and on about how I was a disappointment to the family, and if I could only be more like Kennedy. It wasn’t the first time they had made comments like that, but to hear them discussing it, instead of just making snide remarks here and there was the nail in the coffin.
It was the moment I decided to prove to them that Kennedy wasn’t this perfect doll they could show off to their friends like some trophy. She came from the same gene pool, was just as fucked up as I was, and I hated that she pretended like she was so wonderful.
If she was a good person like she claimed, she would’ve stood up for me when my parents berated me at the kitchen table on a daily basis for whatever distress I caused them that day. Not once did she ever say a goddamned word. She was always so quick to talk about herself, though, and how perfect she was.
At least now she knew that I wasn’t the overprotective brother she always assumed I was. It wasn’t the satisfaction I craved, but it would do. And as long as Beckham kept his trap shut about her, I could move on with my life.
“I know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen me, but we have all night together. You don’t have to linger,” Beckham said, and I backhanded him in the gut. “Oomph.”
“Serves you right,” I uttered as I got out of the car.
Beckham rubbed at his stomach then nodded to Tanya. “Is that a ticket?”
I glanced over to my windshield, and saw the white thing he was referring to. “It better fucking not be.” I stormed over to it and took the folded piece of paper into my hand. Bile rose in my throat as the image and words came into focus.
Feeling Sassy? I am.
-S
An explosion went off in my head, and all I could see was red, as my heart pounded against my chest. Beckham got out of his car, blocking me from getting in my car. I turned to him, seething with rage.
“Dude, what is it?”
“Get out of my way. Now!”
Beckham stepped back, and I let the paper fall to the ground. He bent down and picked it up as I got into Tanya.
“Why is there a dead picture of a cat on your car?” Beckham asked.
I didn’t answer. I threw Tanya in reverse, and whipped out of the parking lot, causing an oncoming car to swerve out of the way, and run off the road. I didn’t give two shits. All I cared about was getting home, and making sure Sassy wasn’t dead.