Tank helps Miller up into his Truck while I pull myself up into the driver’s seat. “Why don’t you guys get in, I’ll give you a ride home.”
“Sure,” he says, motioning for Sophie to hop in the back. He helps her up before climbing in behind her. “Just take us to your place. You’re going to need me to get him upstairs. He’s a big fucker, you know,” he says, trying to make light of the situation. If only he knew. “We’ll walk home from your place.”
“Thanks,” I say, giving him a tight smile.
“Is everything ok?” Sophie asks, leaning forward in the seat and placing a hand on my shoulder.
I take a deep breath and kick over the engine. “No. It’s not,” I tell them honestly. “I’m sure Miller will talk to you when he’s ready,” I tell them both, unsure if Miller would be happy with me sharing his heartache. I glance over to Miller to find him on the verge of passing out but I have a feeling sleep is going to be hard for him to find tonight.
I pull out of my spot and reach over to him with my free hand, taking his hand in mine and lacing our fingers. He gives me a sad, tortured smile and gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
We drive home in a pained silence and arrive back at our doorstep twenty minutes later. True to his word, Tank helps me get Miller upstairs. “Thank you,” I tell him. “I’ll call you guys in the morning.” He gives me a curt nod and makes his way back down the stairs.
I lead Miller into the bathroom and begin stripping him off while I hear Sophie and Tank let themselves out the front door and hear the distinct sound of the door being locked. I mentally send Tank another ‘thanks’ knowing that is just one less thing I have to worry about tonight.
Miller leans up against the vanity as I lean into the shower and wait for the water to warm up. I pull off my own clothes and pull Miller into the shower behind me, he wobbles slightly but manages to get himself in the shower.
I focus solely on getting him cleaned up, scrubbing the foul scent of dirty cigarettes and alcohol from the bar off his body. I reach up and wash his hair and watch as he closes his eyes to allow me to rinse it out. Once he’s cleaned, I press my body up against his and wrap my arms around him.
I feel him harden against my stomach and hear him inhale deeply. I raise my head from his chest and press my lips to his. “I need you,” he says with a sharp edge to his voice and I realize that this is something more animalistic. This isn’t going to be sweet and soft, he isn’t going to make love to me. He is going to fuck me and it is going to be fast and hard. Animalistic.
“Ok,” I nod, looking up into his eyes so he understands completely. “Anything you need.”
He groans into my hair and flips me around so my back is to his chest. His fingers wrap around my hip and he yanks me back into him, crushing my ass against his erection. He places his free hand on my back and bends me over. I throw my hands up against the wall just in time to catch myself as he slams into me.
Just as expected, he pounds into me, over and over again to the point of pain. His fingers dig into the flesh of my hip and I know for sure that will leave a bruise, but I can’t find it in myself to care. He needs this and I will do anything to help take some of that pain away.
His free hand snakes around the front of my body and pinches down on my clit, sending me into an overwhelming wave of pleasure that has my orgasm sneaking up on me in surprise. I scream out as he pumps hard into me one more time and stills inside me as he finds his own release.
He takes a deep breath as he slips out of me and releases his grip on my hip. He turns me back around and pulls me back to him and I notice a bit of tension has left his body. “Come on, let’s go to bed,” I say turning off the taps and stepping out of the shower, dragging him along. I grab a towel and quickly dry us both off then lead him to our bed.
I skip the whole dressing thing deciding that would be way too hard and help slide him into bed. I rush into the hallway and to his study, grab the trash can from under the desk and empty the few papers from the bottom. I come back to our room and place the bin down beside the bed, ready and waiting for if he needs to throw up.
I then rush downstairs, fill up a large glass of water and take it back up to him. He looks at it with longing but doesn’t have the energy or desire to actually ask for it. I take the water over to him and help him sit back up. He takes the glass shakily from my hands and skulls the whole thing. I look over at my side of the bed and figure I should probably fill his glass up again, just in case. I rush back downstairs and refill the glass then come back up and place it down on his bedside table next to a few aspirin pills for when he wakes up.
I climb into bed next to him and open myself up for him. Whatever he needs is his. He rolls over to me and pulls me into his arms. “Thank you,” he whispers.
“It’s ok,” I tell him. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could take your pain away.”
“I know,” he sighs. “Me, too.”
He falls into a tortured sleep with his head resting heavily on my shoulder, causing it to cramp up but I don’t dare move him. Instead, I wrap my arms more firmly around him as he jumps and frets in his sleep, all the while calling out for Mia to come back to him.
---------
I wake a few hours later, get myself dressed and pack a few bags for myself and Miller. I’m riffling around in the kitchen putting something together for his breakfast when I hear him approaching from behind. His arms circle my waist as he pulls me back against him.
“Sorry about last night,” he murmurs in my ear.
I turn around in his hold and look up into his bloodshot eyes. “It’s ok. You’re home now and that’s all that matters.”
He doesn’t reply but holds me closer and lets out a deep breath. When he finally releases me, he takes a look around the kitchen and notices breakfast there waiting for him. He cringes down at it then looks back to me with regret. “Thanks, babe, but I don’t think I can handle food for a few hours.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure,” I smirk. “But it's fine, I can eat it,” I say opening the cutlery drawer to pull out a knife and fork.
I pick up the plate and make my way into the living room and sit down on the couch with my legs crossed while I balance the plate on my thighs. Miller comes and joins me on the couch while I eat, sitting beside me in silence, lost in his thoughts. I’m no mind reader, but I’m certain where his thoughts have led him this morning.
I finish my breakfast and lean forward to place the empty plate on the coffee table. As I come back, Miller grabs me and lifts me up onto his lap. I loop my arms around his neck and give him a soft kiss. “I think you should give Tank a call. He’s worried about you,” I explain.
“Yeah, I’ll do that this morning,” he says, dropping his face into my shoulder. He takes a deep breath then murmurs. “Will you come home with me? I know it’s not the best circumstances to meet my family, or what’s left of it,” he scoffs. “But I can’t do this without you.”
I pull him tighter against me. “I’ve already packed our bags. There’s no place I’d rather be than by your side,” I whisper. “I figured I could take care of the funeral arrangements if that’s ok with you and your mom. It’s just one less thing you guys have to worry about.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he says.
I take his face in my hands and make sure he truly hears me. “Organizing a funeral is hard enough on its own, let alone doing it for your baby girl or little sister. Your mom is already going through enough pain. I just want to do anything I can to make this a little easier for her… for you.”
“I don’t want to burden you with this, but at the same time, I would do anything to make this better for mom and take away what little pain I can,” he says, conflicted.
“It’s ok,” I tell him as I look deeply into his eyes, hoping he can see just how serious I am about this. “Let me handle this.”
He takes another deep breath and searches my eyes then gives me a slow, pained nod. He raises his hand to hold my cheek. “You
let me know if it gets too much and I’ll take over,” he says.
“Promise.”
He holds me for a little longer when I decide it’s finally time. “Come on,” I tell him. “Your Mom is all alone at home and she needs you more than ever. Why don’t you go and call Tank and I’ll load up your truck so we can get going.”
He gives me another nod and raises us both up off the couch and places me down lightly on my feet. He walks to the front door and spots our bags. He grabs them both in one hand while digging in his pocket for his phone. I watch him out the window as he loads up the truck for me and presses buttons on his phone as he searches for Tank’s number. I desperately want to be with him but I know he needs his space.
I grab my handbag off the counter and do a once around the house making sure all the windows and doors are locked then head back down to the kitchen and wash up my dishes from breakfast. Once I’m finished and ready to go. I take a seat in the living room and flick on ESPN while I wait for Miller to finish his phone call. The screen lights up with the highlights from the Dragon’s game last night with the reporter stating that it was one of Miller’s best games, then jokes how it would have been one of the best days of his life so far and that he would be up for a huge night of celebrations after a win like that.
I hear Miller scoff from behind me. “If only they knew, right?” he says, scowling at the screen then turns his gaze to me. “You ready?” he asks.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I say, picking up the remote and turning it off.
I follow Miller out the door and take the keys from him. “What are you doing?” he asks attempting to take the keys back.
“After how much you drank last night, I can assure you that you are still way over the limit and considering the circumstances, there’s no way I’m letting you get behind the wheel,” I tell him, hoping I’m not crossing too many lines with him this morning, knowing he’s going to have to break at some point. But still, there’s no way he’s driving today.
He gives in and drops his hand. “Yeah, you’re right,” he sighs and continues over to his Truck. He opens the driver’s side for me and helps me climb up into his truck, even in his worst moments, I can’t fault him, he’s still a gentleman.
We get on the road, driving a few hours back to his hometown. He points out the frozen lake he first learned to skate on. The very one where he fell in love with hockey and recognized his potential as a player. We continue driving to the next town over, the one they moved to when he was ten, the one that held an actual ice rink with a hockey team for him to join. He continues pointing out different places that hold special meaning to him, like his school and friends’ houses. Hell, he even shows me the little cafe where he got his first kiss from some chick called Megan.
Five minutes later, he directs me around residential streets before telling me to stop before a small, beautiful, cottage style house. “This is it,” he says, glancing at his childhood home.
He hops out of the truck and grabs the bags from the backseat. He meets me around the front and takes my hand. We walk down the small pathway together and I notice his eyes roaming over the house, probably remembering all the memories he has had here with Mia.
We make it up to the front door and he takes a deep breath before knocking.
The door is opened moments later by a small woman who I can tell immediately is Miller's mom. She gasps the moment she sees him and falls into his arms. He drops the bags and catches her with ease and she begins to sob into his chest. He holds her tight and somehow ushers her back inside their home. He leads her to the living room and I follow on behind, bringing in our bags and leaving them by the front door.
I make my way deeper into their home and search out the kitchen. After taking two wrong turns, I finally find it and grab his mom a glass of water before heading back to the living room to find her trying her hardest to pull herself together.
I hand her the glass of water as she finishes wiping her tears. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, dear. I’m Juliette,” she says taking a sip of water to help calm herself.
“It’s more than ok. I understand. I’m Dani.”
She flashes me a beautiful smile that I instantly know she passed on to Miller and gets to her feet with Miller joining her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, stepping forward and taking me in her arms. “I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I tell her.
She holds me a little tighter then pulls back to study my face. She lets out a pained sigh. “I bet you and Mia would have been amazing friends,” she tells me.
“I would like to think so, too. I regret that I never got the chance to meet her, but from what I’ve heard, she was an absolute force to be reckoned with.”
Juliette giggles at that and gives me a thoughtful smile. “That she was.”
Chapter 24
Miller
The days following my arrival back home are easily the hardest days I have ever endured in my life. I’ve been to hockey camps that exhausted me physically and mentally and up until the last few days, I had thought were the worst things I could have suffered through. But being back home in the house that holds my memories of Mia, seeing her beautiful, smiling face plastered all over the house in every available picture frame has haunted me, knowing that it’s a face I will never see again.
As promised, Dani has been my absolute rock. She has taken care of everything. She organized the most spectacular funeral for my baby sister that I could have ever imagined, she made sure mom and I didn’t have to worry about a thing. She shooed away the people who came to the door over and over again, she took care of cooking and cleaning when mom and I were having particularly bad days. She even called Coach Harris to explain what was going on to save my ass from getting kicked off the team due my unexplained absences.
Like I said, she has been my rock, particularly during the middle of the funeral when one of Mia’s very drunk friends got up and decided then was the time to air all Mia’s secrets that she had shared in confidence. Dani got up and shut that shit right down.
I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get up at the funeral and talk about my sister. I spent the days before sitting in my old bedroom ripping up every word I wrote down. Hell, I even went as far as to say I wasn’t going to do it. Mia knew how I felt about her, why would I have to share that with a bunch of dickhead’s I’d never met before? But come time for the funeral, Dani asked me to get up and say a few words, not something generic that I would have written down, but to share something with everybody, something that came from my heart which is exactly what I did.
I got up and shared the stories of my childhood and told of how I had loved my little sister so fiercely. I hardly made it through the funeral without breaking down but I’m so happy I did it. I would have never forgiven myself if I hadn’t got up there and shared a bit of Mia with everyone, a bit that nobody but me as her big brother had the chance to experience.
Which brings me to now.
I stand here by myself on a mountaintop in the national forest behind my home. The exact mountaintop that Mia and I used to climb every summer. I hold the vase which holds her ashes close to my chest as I remember that night about five or six years ago. There was a huge storm and mom had been out of town visiting her sister, so it was just me and Mia.
The storm was huge and Mia was so scared, she would have only been eleven or twelve. We were sitting in the living room watching some ridiculous movie that she had chosen when thunder cracked so loudly above, the power went out, shooting the house into darkness. She screamed and cried as the front window broke from the wind and blew a loud, hard gust of wind into the house.
I ran into mom’s bedroom, grabbed the blanket off her bed and covered Mia in it. Come to think of it, it really did nothing to protect her from the storm, but a blanket always made her feel safe and just as expected it had worked. I riffled through the house looking for the torches whil
e trying to use the shitty light on my phone. When I finally got them, I ran into the garage and found some wood to board up the window.
When I deemed the house finally safe enough, I went back and joined Mia in the living room and played the ‘what would you rather’ game to try and get her mind off the storm. I remember her asking me the most ridiculous questions that I was shocked an eleven year old could come up with. We played for ages asking stupid questions like would you rather eat dog food for a week or go streaking through a movie cinema with all your friends there to watch. The game suddenly took a serious turn when she asked if I would rather be buried or cremated.
I looked over at her in question, trying to figure out why she would even be thinking about it, then she scolded me for not answering her question in a timely manner. “Well?” she asked, crossing her little arms over her chest.
“Well, I don’t know. I guess I’ve never really thought about it,” I told her. “Have you?”
“Yep,” she announced. “I want to be cremated.”
“Ok,” I said a little confused. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want my body to be rotting in the ground for all of eternity. I want to be free when I die. I want to be cremated, and you know that mountain we walk up every summer? I want my ashes to be scattered there, right at the very top when a big gust of wind comes so I can fly,” she had told me.
That was the moment I realized my little sister wasn’t so little after all. She was growing up and quite frankly that scared the shit out of me. “Well,” I said with a smirk, playing off my emotions. “That’s never going to happen because you’re going to live forever, annoying anyone who stands in your way.”
She laughed up at me and snuggled closer to my side. “I love you too, big brother,” she smiled.
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