by Bowie, Emily
I give him a jerk of my chin in agreement. If only he know how true this all was. Looking up, I can see the steady stream of what looks like dragon fire licking the sky.
“Who’s ready to party?” Kellen slaps a few people on the back while slinging his arm around me, turning it into a headlock. Playfully, I punch him in the stomach, going off like guys do. It finally ends with him sitting on me, making me tap out. I could have taken him but I wanted to leave an element of surprise in case I need it in the future.
*
Coming to the fire, I see my other brother Brax alone on a tree that has been placed strategically for a place to sit. Looking around I see no sign of Cynthia so I decide to make my moment with him. Sitting beside him, I continue to glance around in case she makes an appearance. Luke eyes me a little, like he’s worried that this may end on a two-on-one situation and I bravely give him a wink.
Brax wraps him arm around my shoulder. “What’s up, LS?” he asks immediately, looking down at me.
“Does something have to be wrong for me to sit next to my big bro?” I lift one of my eyebrows in question.
“Matter of fact, yes. I know you would never sit beside me, letting me protect you unless something was up. Typically, you stay far away from us boys to make sure we don’t ruin any of your fun.” He smirks at me in his I-know-everything attitude.
My head goes back and forth, realizing his words are true. Moving my head in the direction of the darkness that surrounds the fire I ask, “Can we talk for a second?”
He stays quiet and nods, using his hands on his thighs to help him get up. I allow for him to lead the way as I follow into the darkness.
He stops where there is a private spot and stands there, watching me carefully. Telling him about his girlfriend is harder than I thought. All of a sudden I am consumed with guilt for not saying anything sooner and for being the bearer of bad news.
“It’s about Cynthia,” I start. I fiddle with the hem of my jersey, not knowing what to do while this gets the best of my nerves.
He’s silent, watching me with curious eyes, and I see a hint of something else in them as soon as I say her name, then it disappears before I can analyze it further.
“She’s cheating on you.” I say it in one huff, the words joining together as one.
He clears his voice; it’s low and forceful. “You of all people should know not everything you hear is true, Shay.”
The way he says my name puts a knife in my heart. It’s cold and protective of the callous bitch.
“I’ve seen her, Brax, many times!” I can’t keep the hurt from escaping as his words hit me. I’m trying to help him, not be mean.
“Many times?” he questions me, almost not believing it. “Then why haven’t you said anything?” His words are slow and calculating, eating away at me with guilt.
Taking a deep breath in, I confess it all. “This is going to sound horrible.” My hand goes to my forehead, trying to mask all of my embarrassing selfishness.
“Because, if I did what she said, Mom and Dad would let up on me.” My excuse is weak, and I know in this moment I lost the trust of my brother.
“Always looking out for number one.” He shakes his head at me in disbelief. “You and Kellen are so much alike.” Each word hits a little harder.
“You have to dump her, Brax, she is using you. I love you, I would never lie.”
There is so much disappointment showing in his face and maybe a tinge of sadness. I feel about two feet tall, and for the first time in my life I feel like the little sister they all treat me like. I knew better, I should have listened to my gut and done the right thing. Then maybe this conversation would go differently, and maybe I would be treated like an equal and not some child that I have been acting like.
“She’s pregnant. Shay, I can’t leave her.” His voice is gruff and low, I can see the pain I have caused him. Brax is a good guy who will always do the right thing. Cynthia played right into his good features, and I let her.
I can feel my eyes go wide as I am about to protest that he needs to find out if he is the father, but his eyes have me closing my mouth before any sound comes out. This is the same look my father uses when he is done with a discussion. It is final and scary. I know better than to argue right now. Nothing I do will make Brax waver in his decision. At least not right now.
He leaves me standing there, flabbergasted, lost for words.
I take in the darkness, thinking about the way my brother is messing up his life. He has a bright future and all I can see is Cynthia dragging him down. I always thought I would like whoever my brother settled down with and I would finally get the sister I’ve always wanted. Brax and Cynthia can’t last long, I try to convince myself.
“There you are!” Luke’s strong voice breaks into the darkness before I see him approach. “You okay?”
I give my head a shake. “I will be after you give me a kiss.”
Linking my arms around his neck like I have done thousands of times before, he brings me in for a slow, sensual kiss.
*
Not wanting to interrupt, I watch from afar as Shay and Brax argue. It’s never good when the Steeles fight. I can see the hurt in her eyes as she quickly wipes away the first tear that falls then she gives her head a shake, no doubt scolding herself for crying. My heart hurts for her.
Deciding that I have given her enough space, I go to her. “There you are.” I pretend that I have been looking for her, when in fact I have been standing guard, trying to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Unfortunately, her brothers seem to override my protective powers.
“You okay?” I ask, not trying to push too far into Steele business.
“I will be after you give me a kiss.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I want to tell her she can talk to me but can’t seem to find the words. So I try to tell her through my kiss. She gives me just as much as I give her.
“I’m going to tell Kellen tomorrow,” I tell her. “No more hiding after tonight.”
CHAPTER 23
Tomorrow never came. At least in the sense of me being able to tell Kellen. Just as the sun starts to peek its head around the land, splashing shades of pink into the sky, I get the call. The call that tips my world upside down, stealing a part of the life I had imagined.
Shay is snuggled between my legs, curled up in a blanket as we watch the sun come up. We both watch my phone light up with my mother’s phone number.
I worry that it’s Shay’s parents trying to track down where she is. Hesitantly, I pick it up, not knowing what the phone call has in store.
“Hi, Ma,” I answer. She is used to me being out all hours of the night. It’s never been a problem before.
The sound of my mother’s strained voice has me sitting up. “I need you to meet us at the hospital.” Her voice leaves no room for questioning. I know this voice; you do as you are told.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her immediately.
“There’s been a ranch accident.” Her voice is shaky as she tries not to cry over the phone. I can feel a tremor wanting to erupt through me, starting at my hand, but I push it out. She doesn’t have to tell me who had the accident. I already know. It has to be my father. He would often get insomnia and work it off until he could sleep again. My mother is always lecturing him about the dangers. I refuse to think of the repercussions of what that might mean.
“I’m dropping Shay off and I’ll be right there,” I tell her, my mind on alert, going right into action without really thinking.
“You be good to that girl.” Are the final words she leaves me with before ending the phone call. Just as I feel like one of the Steeles, I know my mother thinks the same for them. Since I was five years old not a day has gone by without my parents seeing at least one of them. So much so our parents do not differentiate when scolding one of us and vice versa when they show us they are proud.
It’s typical of my mom, always looking out for everyone else. Even in a time like this she
is worried about Shay being out this late with me. I wish I could say it hurt my feelings but it doesn’t. I know my reputation. What no one else knows is that most of it is an act. Why make anyone’s expectations too high? I have no intention of fucking anything up with Shay.
“Was that your mom?” she asks softly. I can see her watching me out of the corner of my eye. All I can do is nod.
I kiss her shoulder. “I need to get going.” Standing, I help her up.
I hold her close, keeping her body pressed against me as we walk to the cab of my truck. Her skin feels warm and soft against my cold skin.
My head is in a fog as I drive her home, the cab in full silence. I can tell she wants to ask what’s wrong; her mouth opens once or twice like the words want to roll off the tip of her tongue. Instead, she sits next to me, keeping her hand on my thigh; it is her way of being here for me. I’m afraid to say anything out loud until I know what has happened. There is no point in worrying her for no reason.
“Call me once you know what is happening.” She kisses me though my window before scurrying into the darkness to where she can climb up to her bedroom window.
By the time I get to the hospital it’s too late. I come running in, one of the nurses questioning who I am. “Luke Rogers?”
“Yes, ma’am.” My voice is out of breath as I huff out my response.
“They are down the hall, room three zero two.” I take off in the direction she points to, afraid what it means that they already know who I am.
My mom and sister are crying over my father in the small hospital bed. Coming up next to my mom, she wraps her arm around my legs as I stand stiff next to her small chair. I take in the room, the machines are silent, and my father looks peacefully asleep. There are no nurses or doctors frantically moving around our room.
“What happened?” I ask in confusion.
“He had a heart attack when working on some equipment,” she tells me.
I still wait for the outcome of the accident. Not understanding why she is still crying.
“They couldn’t save him.”
I stare in disbelief, not fully comprehending her words. Regret surges through me as I think of his final days. I was so busy with football, did I even tell him that I loved him?
I have to hold onto the bed railing to hold myself up. Blinking a few times, I try to decipher if this is a dream. Did Shay and I fall sleep?
“It’s all yours to work now,” she tells me with a forced smile. I pause knowing that the ranch was always my plan B. Or at least something I would naturally grow into as I got older. Dad talked about me taking over all the time, the actuality of this happening never took root as a reality in my mind.
In months to come, when I look back at this moment, I would realize the significance of my mother’s words as they didn’t sink in and weren’t fully understood. In the moments, hours, days that followed, I would be forced to realize that I’m the man of the house with real adult responsibility, my dream of becoming a football player gone, with this town as my home for good now.
*
I walk around in a haze, trying to understand why him, why our family. I refuse to shed a tear in front of anyone, and in turn I can’t seem to do it when I am alone either. Shay brought over a meal for our family and is sitting here with me now. I want to be able to reach out to her but don’t know how.
“You can talk to me you know.” Her voice has me looking down at her angelic face. I had forgotten that she was here. I keep doing that. I nod my head, faking my smile.
It’s just Shay and me in my living room watching a movie. A movie I should be enjoying, while also enjoying Shay’s hand on mine. Each time I try, guilt consumes me, knowing my father will never get to enjoy his ranch, his family, or anything else that once was his life.
My mind goes into itself, thinking of every what-if situation and how my life would be different.
CHAPTER 24
I reach out to Luke each day but his reaction is a shell of himself. Physically, he’s present, but he has burrowed into himself. Refusing to talk to anyone.
I watch as Luke, Kellen, and some other male relatives walk the casket toward the gravesite. I tried to maintain composure during the service, my eyes never leaving Luke. His face lacks expression.
The casket is lowered on the metal beams and he walks toward his mother. I cry for him, his family, and for his father. It kills me that I can’t be the one holding his hand right now. As the wooden casket is lowered, Luke breaks for the first time. A loud growl of a sob leaves him, and without question I go to him and hold him. He lowers his body to the ground as he cries for the first time, his body shakes beneath my grip. I don’t care what anyone says. I will be here for him. Giving him anything he needs. I hate feeling like I can’t do anything. That is why I have baked so much food for them. Even now with Luke baring his soul to the town, I want to be able to take away his pain.
Luke’s fingers squeeze mine before he stands up, composing himself once again, his fingers slowly distancing from mine. At this moment, Luke is like a stranger in his own body, my heart hurts for him. I stay standing by him, making sure that I’m here for him the next time he needs me. I won’t lose him to this. I know deep down he will come around, and when he does we will be back to what we were.
*
Christmas and New Years pass, each day I tried to do something, anything, to make Luke come back to me. He constantly dazes off or sleeps when we are together. At school he picks fights, adding to his bad boy image. Teachers look at his mother with pity for putting up with a son like him. Kellen has been no help, rarely hanging around Luke unless it involves another fight.
Like every other day, I try something new to bring the old Luke back to me, or at least emerge a new Luke. Currently, he is sitting somewhere in-between.
Luke and I sit on his bed, papers and textbooks sprawled out. It looks like we are studying when I know it is anything but. Luke’s eyes have not left the same page; he’s in another one of his dazes. I can’t seem to concentrate on the words on my page either, with each passing minute it has me questioning how to make Luke start living again. I have tried everything, except one thing.
Taking my time, I pull my sweater from over my head, leaving me in a thin spaghetti-strapped tank top. Purposely, I wore the tightest most uplifting bra I had, hoping for a flicker of anything from Luke.
“Hand me your book.” Luke looks startled at the sound of my voice before handing me the textbook his eyes have not left.
“The game is simple. I ask you a question. If you get it right, I take off an article of clothing. If you get it wrong, you take off an article of clothing.”
Luke straightens up more, his eyes flickering with the life they once held but it doesn’t stay long.
Gathering our papers, I remove them from the bed, making sure to give flashes of my cleavage as I go. He looks confused when I drop his textbook with the rest. “Question one. What’s your favorite memory of your dad this past year?”
It takes him a few seconds before he looks at me.
“I don’t want to talk about my dad.” An emotional rainbow dashes across his face, anguish, hurt, anger, and sadness.
“You can’t keep your feelings bottled up.” I tried to hide my frustration. It’s been months, and other than the one breakdown at his father’s funeral, he has displayed zero emotions. Nothing. Not even with me. I know bottling this up will only evoke an emotional response later and will show in a way that will get himself in trouble.
“I’m fine, Shay,” he tells me sternly, but I’m not giving up.
This is the most fight he has put up. He has even watched the most sappy chick flicks with me and was fine. Everything is fine, when in reality nothing is.
“No, you’re not.” I get up from the bed, trying to calm myself since I know he’s still not himself. I need him to see that he needs help. This is not normal or healthy.
He stands up, kicking the books at his feet. Finally, a reaction. At thi
s point I will take anything.
“Tell me a memory of your dad,” I challenge.
I can tell he wants to tell me to fuck off. If I were anyone else he would have, and I may have a death sentence. He can glare and huff all he wants. He doesn’t scare me. He will never hurt me.
“This isn’t your concern.” His words are slow as he grits them through his teeth.
My heart is beating erratically and faster than anything I have felt before. I unbutton my jeans and slowly inch them down past my thighs, to my knees, then off completely.
“What are you doing?”
I can tell he still wants to fight, and I plan to give him that satisfaction. I’m not giving up.
“It’s none of your concern,” I lash out at him, leaving myself in my tight tank top and panties. His eyes flash with the same frustration that mirror mine.
“You don’t have a memory that’s recent, do you?” I accuse, it’s harsh but I know it’s far from the truth, and I need him to see that. To see that talking about it does help.
He rushes toward me, causing me to jump in surprise, and I back myself to the chair. My lips curve upwards as I slowly begin to see life coming back to Luke.
“You think I have an issue?” His jaw is clenched tightly, as he begins taking off his shirt, his eyes going up my body until they reach my face. His chest looks more solid than before, making me wonder what’s he’s been doing physically to deal with his anguish.
Feeling brave, like I am finally getting to him, I poke him in the chest, feeling the stiffness in his muscles against my jab. The current around us sizzles, pulling me in closer, causing me to relapse in my thought process.
“Damn right I do.” I might look like a pixie next to him but if no one will wake him up, I will.