by D. Breeze
We walked into the plush surroundings inside the building and I gaped. The whole place looked like it come straight out of some sort of ‘Your Home’ magazine. It was decorated from floor to ceiling in reds and golds and I was struck speechless.
I followed my brothers through the hallway to the lift and couldn’t stop flicking my eyes in every direction, taking in every last detail.
“Where are we?” I finally asked.
Jackson answered. “My home. Your new home.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. We’d been living in hell for seven years and he’d been living like this?
I couldn’t think, I just felt rage sweeping through my veins and my whole body tensed. Jackson didn’t miss my reaction either because he winced.
His apartment took up the entire top floor but I didn’t even spare it more than a single glance before I turned and launched myself at him.
Every ounce of anger, disappointment and despair that had built up inside me over the years just overflowed. I swung my fist back and punched him in the mouth. I was fourteen, scrawny and weak. He barely even moved an inch but I didn’t stop. I just kept hitting him everywhere I could. Mase attempted to pull me back but I screamed at him to let me go.
“Calm down!” Mase said in my ear, but I was hysterical.
“You bastard! You motherfucking bastard! Is this all some big game to you?’Look what big, bad Jackson Brent made of himself when he left!’ Well fuck that and fuck you! I don’t need your fucking charity.”
Jackson just stood there while I screamed at him. His face was impassive and he wasn’t showing any emotion at all. I hated him.
Finally, he spoke. “If you think I’ve had it easy, little brother, you can think again. Now sit down, calm down, take a breath and we’ll talk.”
The fight just drained from my body and I leant heavily against Mase, who was still holding on to me.
It took a while, hours maybe, for Jackson to tell us his story and I could tell that Mase hadn’t known much, if any of it.
I wasn’t sure who’d had it worse, us or him. Granted, we’d been used as punching bags and made to do a lot of things we didn’t want to, but I couldn’t imagine living on the streets. I felt guilty for hitting him, so I told him so. He just laughed.
“Not the first time I’ve been punched, Ruben. Probably won’t be the last either.”
I still had two questions that needed answering though.
“Did you set fire to our house? And where’s our Mum and Dad?”
He stared at me, his face blank.
“No I didn’t start that fire and I don’t know where they are.”
He sighed. “I know it’s hard to believe, Ruben, but I asked Mase to get you both out of the house tonight so that it would be easier to take you with me. I didn’t want to deal with your, our, parents. So I figured; if you weren’t there, it would be easier. I saw the fire though, that’s when I told Mase we had to get gone as soon as we could. You know it doesn’t look good.”
His eyes shifted away from me and he wrung his hands together. Tell-tale signs of a liar. I didn’t know whether to be relieved, or scared. This wasn’t the brother I knew, of course, he was just a kid himself last time I saw him.
I decided to let him have his lie. The outcome wouldn’t change either way.
“So what do we do now...?” I asked.
His grin was proud. “Now little brother, you guys get to start living.”
*~*~*
Lydia
He was gone.
I waited in all day for him to come back. But he didn’t.
No call, no text, no word. Just vanished.
Lucas was angry, he wouldn’t talk about him. We all knew about the blaze, the gossip had spread like wild-fire around the estate. Two bodies being found in a burnt down house would, I suppose.
I’m not sure how Lucas knew that Ruben and Mason weren’t inside when the house burnt down, but he did. I wondered if Ruben and Mason knew that their Mum and Dad had died or if they were bothered. I knew they weren’t good parents. Which made me wonder if the brothers had actually been involved in starting the fire, but my heart knew that couldn’t be true of Ruben. He was a good boy.
It had been almost a month since the night he ran out of our house and things were changing. Subtle changes, but changes all the same.
Dad seemed more angry and frustrated. Mum seemed more sad and withdrawn.
I turned twelve. I still had balloons and banners, a few presents and everyone was smiling at me. But they weren’t real smiles. They were all hiding things from me and I wanted to question them, but I never did.
Something in me changed when Ruben left. I wasn’t inquisitive anymore, I didn’t ask questions and I didn’t try and be nosey. Mainly because I felt like maybe if I’d been less annoying, less clingy, he wouldn’t have left in the first place.
Irrational thoughts of course, but I was just a child.
I should have paid more attention.
I sat next to Mrs Henley on the recliner and told her all about what was going on at home, how things were changing. I told her about Uncle Freddy’s more frequent visits, how they always coincided with bad arguments between my Mum and Dad and how Freddy always brought me lovely presents; such as the silver charm bracelet I was wearing.
I missed her horrified reaction because I was in the story-telling zone.
“Dad just shouts a lot lately and I don’t understand why Mum is so sad all the time.” I whined.
She patted my knee in what, I’m assuming, was supposed to be a supportive gesture.
“Ahh sweetheart, sometimes grown-ups do things that they shouldn’t do. They don’t think about the consequences and then they feel bad afterwards. You’re too young to be worrying about them.”
I frowned at her. My Mum and Dad didn’t do things they shouldn’t do.
“I’m confused.” I muttered, as I curled into her side.
“Oh, you poor mite. Of course you are. Just keep yourself busy and stay out of their way for a while. Things will get better, I’m sure.”
She didn’t sound sure. In fact, she sounded down-right scared.
“You should be getting home little girl, it’s getting dark. But promise me one thing, you’ll come see me if you need me, yeah?”
I felt slightly sick at her choice of words. Promises didn’t mean anything to me anymore.
I nodded. “I promise, Mrs Henley.”
“Go on then, I’ll see you soon.” She said, sounding wistful.
“Bye, Mrs Henley!”
I ran across to my house and flew through the front door. Uncle Freddy sat on the sofa next to my Mum and she cringed when I walked in.
“Hey, Uncle Freddy.” I called.
He smiled his beautiful smile. I really didn’t understand why no one else seemed to like him.
“Where have you been, Ladybug? It’s nearly dark outside.” He asked. I liked his nickname for me, it made me feel precious...just like Ruben’s used to.
“Oh, just over to Mrs Henley’s house. She’s our next-door neighbour. She makes me tea and gives me cookies! Then she tells me all about the olden days and I tell her all of my secrets.” I giggled, she really was my secret keeper.
Uncle Freddy frowned and suddenly looked mad at me. He got like that sometimes, so I stepped back.
“What secrets?” He snarled, making me gulp.
“I don’t know, I just tell her everything. She’s my friend.” I whispered.
“I see.”
He didn’t say anything else and I took the opportunity to run upstairs, into my bedroom. I didn’t understand how one man could be so nice sometimes, yet still scare the living daylights out of me like that.
I missed Ruben. I missed his smile, his laugh, just him. But something inside me had shifted when he left and I was fighting an inner battle of emotions. On one hand, I was happy for him, I knew he needed to escape his horrible parents. Then on the other hand, I was so, so angry at him for lying to me, for le
aving me. I didn’t know how to deal with it.
Sleep soon solved the problem for me and I didn’t have to think about it again until the morning, which came far too soon.
I heard my Mum calling me and she sounded panicked so I ran down the stairs, still in the previous day’s clothes and froze in the doorway.
My Mum sat on the sofa biting her bottom lip and her hands were shaking. Her eyes looked funny, all bloodshot and jittery.
“Mum? What’s wrong?”
She sucked in a shuddering breath and patted the sofa next to her, silently asking me to sit.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, so, so sorry, but Mrs Henley passed away in the night last night. I didn’t know how to tell you, but I thought you’d rather know sooner than later.”
The room was so silent that I was sure I heard my own heart break.
“How...?” I whispered. I mean, sure she was really old, but she’d seemed fine the day before.
Mum bit her nails, looking anywhere but at me and muttered “I don’t know.”
I was quickly becoming used to people lying to me and I noticed straight away.
“How did she die, Mum?” I asked again, stronger this time.
She jumped from the sofa and started pacing. Her hands grabbed the roots of her hair.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!” She chanted, trying to convince herself.
I left her to it, she seemed like she had forgotten that I was even there. My tears flowed freely and I didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. I ran from the house and straight to the park. It was early, so I figured no one would be around.
Sitting on the swings, I used my feet to push myself – higher and higher – just trying to forget anything and everything.
After a while, I started to slow down, dragging my feet on the floor to make the swing stop. I noticed Lucas walking across the field and I stood to wave at him but he wasn’t looking in my direction. I snuck after him, keeping enough distance that I hoped he wouldn’t notice me.
He approached a couple of men standing by the bushes and I shuffled to the other side of the hedge, it didn’t look like a friendly chat. They handed him a roll of money that had my jaw hanging. I’d never seen that amount of money.
He counted the money and shoved it in his pocket. The men looked at him expectantly. He glanced around and then gave them a handful of something, I just couldn’t see what it was.
One of the men held up a little bag, and stuck his finger inside. He then put that finger in his mouth and made a motion like he was brushing his teeth. I was twelve, but I wasn’t stupid. My brain did the math and I gasped out loud. What on earth had Lucas gotten himself into?
Three heads swung in my direction and I threw myself to the floor, just catching the two men run off in one direction and Lucas run in the other.
I lay still for a few minutes, making sure they had all gone and then stood from my hiding place. Stumbling around for a beat or two, I tried to get my mind around what I had just seen.
That wasn’t part of my world.
Mrs Henley wasn’t dead.
My brother wasn’t involved with drugs.
And I didn’t have a sneaking suspicion that my parents were somehow involved too.
But it was.
She was.
He was.
And they were.
Chapter Six
Ruben
Six years later
I stared at our new house, almost giddy with excitement.
“Holy shit! Holy fucking shit! This place is insane!” Mase exclaimed beside me.
I couldn’t speak.
“This is seriously yours?”
Jackson looked like he was going to burst out laughing.
“It’s pretty special, right? Yep, it’s ours. Surprise! All your stuff is already inside – go check it out.”
I’ll be honest; I ran just as fast as Mase to get inside, neither of us could wait to see. I’d just celebrated my twentieth birthday the week before and Jackson had surprised both me and Mase by telling us that we were moving from Birmingham, where we had lived for the last six years, to London - the freaking capital city of England!
He knew I’d always wanted to go to university in London, and as always, he’d made it happen.
A lot can change in six years and my life was everything I’d ever wanted and much, much more.
We laughed every day. We worked hard, we played hard and we lived life. Not to say it was easy straight away, because it wasn’t.
I spent the first few months after our parents had been killed in the fire - in foster care because Jackson had to fight to keep us. The social workers were all in agreement that he was too young to raise two teenage boys. We proved them wrong. Every home they placed us in, we ran away, back to Jackson, always.
It became a game, of sorts.
We were minors, but we weren’t children - hadn’t been children for years before that. So we pretty much forced their hand.
We also had to lie to the police about the circumstances surrounding the fire. Convincing them that we always spent time with Jackson and that, that night wasn’t a rare occurrence, wasn’t exactly easy.
We didn’t know what happened. I think by then, we’d convinced ourselves to believe the lie enough, that the police believed us too.
So it was tough, for a while.
But standing in the main room of our new home, I couldn’t have felt any happier. The whole room was decorated in blacks and greys, with the odd splash of white and Jackson’s huge TV had pride of place on the wall. Pure masculinity. It was ours.
“Hey, little brother! Your room is up the stairs, second door on the left. Mase, yours is the first one on the right.”
I ran up the stairs and opened the door to my new room, I sucked in a breath so fast that my head spun.
Everything was organised, clean, and tidy – just the way I needed my things. My king-size bed was against the wall in the centre and I had built in wardrobes surrounding it. But my eyes were drawn to my pride and joy, sitting on my desk, right underneath the window, looking out over the garden.
Jackson had money, that was no secret, but I worked my ass off to save up and buy myself a Macbook Pro computer. It was something I’d always wanted and the first thing I’d ever saved for. I’m a computer geek, so sue me.
I laughed. I laughed so hard that my sides cramped and my cheeks ached. Every single day, I woke up thinking I was living a dream, but I knew that I wasn’t dreaming anymore – because that was more than I ever could have wished for.
I loved my life.
My laughter continued as I heard Mase bouncing around like a hyperactive child and Jackson chuckling at him. There was no better feeling than being in a house filled with laughter.
I never allowed myself to think of the past, ever. Not the people, the places, the drugs. Nothing. Regardless of what he thought he’d convinced me of, I still knew he’d taken huge life-changing risks to rescue us. I had decided a long time ago that I was going to live every day of my life like it was my last - that was the only way I could think of thanking Jackson, rewarding him even, for doing what he did.
I couldn’t say it. My mind wouldn’t let me form the words.
He started that fire. He killed our parents.
What’s the saying? Sometimes good people do bad things. Yeah, that definitely applied, because he was a good person. He just technically did a bad thing. I say technically, because let’s face it, no one will ever miss our parents and he inadvertently saved our lives.
So yeah, I made sure I enjoyed life every day, even if it was the smallest thing.
I sat in my new leather computer chair and logged on to my computer. The second I did, my life took another turn. My head spun.
An instant message popped up on the screen.
Lucas Romero: Well well. So you do still exist?
I stared at the screen for a good five minutes before responding.
Ruben Brent: Holy shit! Ho
w are you Luc?
Lucas Romero: Yeah, listen, let’s skip the bullshit. I need a favour.
I frowned at the screen, not sure if he was joking with me. I decided he probably wasn’t and I felt guilty about not keeping in contact with him.
Ruben Brent: Um, sure. What can I do for you?
Lucas Romero: Long story, gimme your number, I’ll call you.
I gave him my number and sat holding my phone, waiting for his call. The phone buzzed and I picked up immediately.
“Hi...”
“I’m going to jail.” Was his opening line.
“What the fuck?”
“Everything you left behind? Well it’s worse. And me and Lydia...you remember her? My baby sister whose heart you broke? Her. We’re right in the middle of it.”
The thought of little Lydia made my heart falter. I had tried to put everything from back then in a tiny box in the back of my mind and never think about it.
“Ok...” I dragged the word out, ignoring his verbal jabs. “So what do you need from me?”
“She knows I’m going to jail, I got busted for dealing. She’s not the same girl she was back then and she did something really fucking stupid; now Freddy’s out for blood...her blood specifically.”
“Oh my God.”
“Uh huh. Yep, sounds about right. So, I have my court date in three days, I can watch her until then, but can you help? I mean afterwards...can you get her away from here? She doesn’t have anyone else now.”
I thought about their mum and dad and I knew they wouldn’t protect her like they should.
Fucking drug addicts.
“Your mum and dad still the same then, yeah?”
He snorted. “The same? No, they’re worse too. Dad’s in jail too, for armed robbery. Mum can’t pull her head out of her ass long enough to know what fucking day it is. She’s usually too high anyway.”
I felt my jaw tense. Those bastards had no clue what they had wasted. I remembered Lydia, how could I ever forget? She didn’t deserve that life.