They wouldn’t want Amber to rush back to Charleston for them. They’d want her to stay and remained focused. The difference between Amber’s life and my life was Amber didn’t have a paid ride for college. She worked her ass off for her grades and scholarships. I, on the other hand, had a backup plan … Dad’s college fund.
“I’m so sorry, Nik,” she said, her tears finally escaping and rushing over her chunky cheeks.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“I’ll call you once I figure out everything. Good luck on your exam.”
We hugged, and then I was rushing downstairs to catch the cab I’d called earlier.
The tears obeyed on the ride to the airport, staying put in the pools of my eyes. I checked out completely as I checked in and prepared for my flight. My robotic ways kept me from crushing beneath the weight of grief settling over my shoulders.
My eyes became dry and itchy during the flight back to Charleston. The tears once pooling in my eyes dried themselves, leaving my emotions and my expression stiff. I stared at the back of the seat in front of me, unblinking, until it was time to land.
I didn’t call anyone to pick me up from the airport. Really, there was only one person I could call, and I was still embarrassed and hurt over our last encounter. Throwing myself at him for him to only push me away … again. Always pushing me away. And then later, walking in to find some girl with the same name as mine riding him.
He wanted a Nicole; I just wasn’t the right Nicole.
The cabby tried to make conversation on the way to my house, but I mostly mumbled and made agreeing noises to shut him up. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to think. All I wanted to do was get to Brian and hold him. I just wanted to see my little brother and try to deal with everything that had rocked our world so terribly.
Tyson’s car was parked out front, but I gave it a passing glance as I opened the door and climbed from the backseat. Once I pulled my luggage out of the trunk of the cab, I stood there on the sidewalk looking up at the place I’d always called home. It wasn’t a rich place, but it had always been full of love and laughter. It had always been full of life and family—a connection I’d never feel again.
The two-story brick ranch held all my favorite memories, but now, it was going to be forever connected to the moment my parents ceased to exist. The moment when I had to grow up and leave my eighteen-year-old self in the past because now I had no one to fall back on and a young boy who depended on me.
The wheels on my suitcase creaked up the sidewalk as I made my way to the front door. My feet didn’t seem to want to cooperate, as if they knew what kind of darkness would be waiting on the other side of the door.
I didn’t want to face the reality of our situation. I didn’t want to see my little brother crying, and I definitely didn’t want to see Tyson. My heart couldn’t handle those things, and I knew I’d break again. That was the last thing I wanted since I needed to hold myself together for Brian.
The house was silent when I opened the front door. Death had settled over our little home, washing it clean of all the echoed laughter of my youth. Christmas had been cleaned from our home, and Mom had set out new winter decorations for the month of January.
Setting my luggage to the side, I quietly shut the door behind me and made my way into the living room. There, sitting on the couch, was Tyson and Brian.
Brian’s face was buried in Tyson’s side, and his large tattooed arm held him close as he whispered soothing things to my brother. Brian had always tried to act manly in front of Tyson—always trying to puff out his chest and be bigger than he really was—but at that moment, my brother was just a sad little boy.
Small.
Broken.
Miserable.
I didn’t miss the fact that Tyson was allowing Brian to hold him. I guess maybe the cowgirl who’d ridden him in his bedroom had broken him of that touching issue.
I cleared my throat, and Tyson’s head popped up. His dark eyes glittered up at me from the couch, and I could tell he was waiting for me to break, as well. He’d be waiting for a long time. I wouldn’t do it. I had to be strong for Brian.
I looked away from Tyson’s gaze. I was sure that if I kept the eye contact, he’d see all the broken parts of me floating around inside. He could never know how badly he’d hurt me, and he could never know how torn up I was over the death of my parents. I was going to be the strong girl I’d promised myself I’d be. No matter what.
“I’m home, Brian.” My voice cracked.
His head popped up from Tyson’s arm, and I was met with red swollen eyes and flushed cheeks.
He leaped from the couch and wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his wet face into my shoulder.
“They’re gone, Nik,” he cried. “They’re gone, and we’re all alone.”
My body was stiff; my spine locked in place to hold me up. My knees felt like they were seconds away from collapsing. I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the flow of tears that threatened. His body shook against mine, but all I could do was hold him close and pray I wouldn’t crumple to the floor.
I twisted my fingers in his blond hair. “Shhhh,” I soothed. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m here, bud.”
But even as I said the words, I knew I was lying. Everything would never be okay again.
SIXTEEN
Tyson
THINGS WENT DOWNHILL after Nicole ran from my room and hauled ass back to New York. Rock bottom became my home, and I lived there … tortured and broken.
What I did was wrong … so fucking wrong, and I had no excuse. I could pull the crazy card or I could claim mental instability, and while those things were true, no excuse was good enough for me. Therefore, no excuse would ever be good enough for Nicole.
She’d never understand my twisted ways. She’d never know that every time I had sex with a woman, she was on my mind. Not that it made things better … it didn’t. But I just wished I could explain and make her understand that she was all I ever wanted. She was everything to me, but I loved her too much to let her settle for me.
It was hard to let her go—to know she was probably running back to Russell. She’d said they were just friends, but somehow, I knew what I’d done would change that. I knew that once she went back to school, she’d fall into his arms. It hurt to think about that, but the truth was I’d rather watch from afar, as she blossomed in another man’s arms, than let her wither in mine.
So I didn’t go after her. I didn’t try to give her any bullshit excuses. Instead, I texted the only words that seemed to fit the situation …
I’m sorry.
I let her go only to find out the following day that she’d flown back to New York early. The Palmers didn’t seem to understand why she’d run back to school so quickly, but I knew why. She was trying to get away from me, and honestly, I didn’t blame her one single bit.
Then when I didn’t think I could get any lower, another tragedy struck, and I found myself sitting on the couch holding my semi-adopted little brother while he lost it.
The Palmers—the people who’d taken me in and given me life, given me Nicole—were dead. I wasn’t taking it well. I’d basically blacked out on the way to their house once I got the call from Brian, but I knew I couldn’t break. I couldn’t let the blackness in. Staying strong for Brian and Nicole was the most important thing, and I was determined not to fuck it up.
The closing of the front door echoed throughout the house, and I knew she was there. I wanted to go to her—hold her to my body—keep her safe, but I couldn’t move. I was pinned to the couch by Brian, and holding him together was just as important as holding her together.
They were all I had left in the world—my little family—my brother and the girl I loved more than life itself. From that moment on, I’d protect them no matter what.
Her skin was pale when she came into the room. Black smudges rimmed her wide, unblinking eyes. She looked like a zombie—going through the mo
tions of living while being dead inside. I wouldn’t let her check out. She couldn’t leave me too. I’d never survive it.
She was barely holding herself together. I could tell by her tense shoulders and straight spine. And I knew she was hanging on for Brian—being strong for her little brother the same way I was strong for them.
Brian left my side and ran to her, and she shook as she held him. Her knees were weak—I could see them trembling from where I was sitting—but my beautiful girl held strong and whispered words to her little brother as she tried to soothe him.
“Are you okay?” I asked, standing from the couch.
She blinked, her sad eyes scanning the room as if she’d never seen the place before, and then her eyes connected with mine. The death in her eyes was frightening and sent a jolt of shock down my spine. I’d never seen her that way. I’d never seen someone, other than myself, so completely broken, and my heart ached for her. I wanted to take it all away.
“I’m here now,” she said, ignoring my question completely. “You can go. I have everything under control.”
Her voice had no emotion behind it—no pitch—nothing.
She looked away from me and tucked Brian under her arm as she walked him out of the room and toward the kitchen. I’d been dismissed. She was more than obviously done with me, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should stay and be supportive, or if I should go and lessen the blow since I knew I’d also been a bad thing in her life.
I decided to leave. She’d need me during this. She’d need me to hold her up, and I couldn’t do that if I pissed her off and she pushed me away before that time came. Grabbing my keys from the table by the door, I left and drove around, running through almost an entire tank of gas. I couldn’t go back to my apartment. I wasn’t ready to sit in that quiet shell and reflect.
THE WAKE WAS three days later at a funeral parlor in the center of town. I’d passed the place a million times over the years, but I never imagined I’d be inside letting go of the very people who’d taken me in and given me a life.
Nicole opted to have one wake and funeral for both parents at the same time, and even though the Palmers were well-loved people, not very many people showed up. A couple of Mr. Palmer’s co-workers, friends of Mrs. Palmer’s, and friends of Nicole’s and Brian’s showed. The guys came to give their respect since they knew how much the Palmers meant to me, but other than that, it was a small group.
The caskets were closed, not because they weren’t presentable, but because Nicole asked for them to be. I knew her. I knew her way of thinking, and I knew she couldn’t see her parents that way—lying there cold and lifeless. I didn’t blame her. I’d seen my own father dead, and even though I hated the bastard, it still wasn’t pleasant. I couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like had I actually given a shit about him and not been the one to take his life.
I stayed across the room from Nicole, sticking myself in a corner where I could silently watch. Her posture was straight, her smiles forced, but she stood there, welcoming friends of the family without falling to pieces, which I knew was exactly what she wanted to do.
“Hey, man, how you holdin’ up?” Nate asked at my side.
I hadn’t spoken much, choosing to stick to myself. I was in pain, but I wasn’t one to show my emotions.
“I’m okay.” I shrugged. “Thanks for coming, man. I appreciate it.”
He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed, and his touch felt like hot knives were jabbed into my shoulder. “I’m here, bro. You know that,” he said.
I didn’t breathe again until he released my shoulder.
Nodding, I acknowledged his words.
He’d brought his girlfriend, Stacey, and she stood at his side wearing a sad smile.
Everything felt so unreal—like I was watching a dramatic movie instead of living my life. Every few seconds, my eyes would scan the room to check on Brian, who hadn’t left his spot next to his parents’ caskets, before landing on Nicole. It was hard to watch her. She was tearing at the seams slowly, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she snapped.
The funeral was the next morning, and even fewer people showed up for that. That probably had more to do with the light misty rain. I stood there in my suit without an umbrella, letting the rain wash over me and dampen my clothes. The longer the funeral lasted, the wetter I became, until finally, I was soaked and freezing.
Shivering, I stood behind Nicole and Brian, trying to be supportive while keeping myself together. The days were catching up with me, and the nights without sleep weren’t helping. My nightmares worsened, making me afraid to even close my eyes. I couldn’t see the flashes of death and memories. It was too much, especially considering the way my life was going—the terrible loss of my adopted parents.
Part of me wanted to stay at the house with Nicole and Brian so I could be there for them, but then the other part of me remembered the broken look in her eyes when she ran out of my room. I knew my presence would only make matters worse—would only add pressure to her pain. That was the last thing I wanted.
By the time the preacher was done and they were tossing the first bits of dirt over the vaults, my teeth were chattering. It was January and raining, and even though I had on a thick suit jacket, I could feel the cold cutting through me. Nicole was wearing a simple black dress with a nice coat over it, but I could see by the way she was shaking that she was freezing.
She was driving her father’s car, but I worried she wasn’t completely together enough to be driving. When she and Brian started toward the car, I followed, stopping her before they could get in.
“Hey,” I said, getting her attention.
She turned toward me, but her eyes never shifted toward my face.
“Why don’t you let me drive you guys home,” I offered.
“No, thank you,” she mumbled before turning away and getting into the car.
I stood on the grass at the side, hoping she’d change her mind, but she didn’t. Instead, she cranked the car and pulled away.
Maybe it was crazy. Maybe she’d hate me, but I followed her. I’d just lost my adopted parents. I couldn’t lose her and Brian, too. I parked on the sidewalk when I pulled up to the house. She and Brian had already gone in. Opening the door, I walked in to find her standing in the foyer staring off into space.
At my entrance, she turned to face me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I told you …”
Everything came to a head, and she broke. But instead of freaking out on me, she fainted in my arms. I held her close, breathing her in. She’d lost so much—had been through so much—and all I wanted was to make it better. I couldn’t do that for her, though. There wasn’t much I could do.
Instead, I carried her to her room, put her in her bed, and covered her tiny body under the warmth of her blankets.
Things were going to get worse. The days were going to get harder, but regardless of whether she wanted me there or not, I wasn’t leaving her. I’d spent my life making sure she was safe and taken care of. I wasn’t about to stop now that there was no one else in the world for her to fall back on.
Even though she didn’t want to, she could always fall back on me.
SEVENTEEN
Nicole
IT FELT AS if I died with my parents. My body went into protection mode, and emotionally, I went numb. I prayed every second through the wake and funeral that my feelings didn’t return.
If I couldn’t feel anything, I couldn’t hurt. If I was numb, I could stay standing for Brian. I didn’t cry. It was as if my tear ducts had dried out completely. And when someone spoke to me, I tried to smile. I knew the second the numbness wore off I’d break.
That break happened the minute I stepped inside our house. Brian went straight upstairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him to block me and the rest of the world out. For the first time since arriving back in Charleston, I was alone. The numbness went away at that moment, and everything came crashing down over me
.
The room shifted. My heart felt as though it exploded in my chest. And when the door opened, and I saw Tyson standing there, the pain was even worse. I couldn’t take it anymore, and everything rushing to the surface all at one time shut my body down.
I fainted.
When I woke up, I was in my bed tucked in and warm. Lying there, I let the pain wash over me, drowning in misery and making me feel like I couldn’t breathe. Clenching my eyes shut, I tried to hold the tears in, but I couldn’t. They broke through my lids, draining down the sides of my face and soaking my pillow.
The sun broke through my curtains an hour later, and I knew I had to greet the day. Brian needed me. I needed to take care of things for Mom and Dad’s insurance. I couldn’t afford to lay around in misery and grief. Not when I had to tend to everything.
Going back to school didn’t seem like a possibility, and I could already see my life unraveling before my eyes. My dreams—my desires—everything I’d worked hard for my entire life was gone along with my lifeline … my parents.
The house was silent when I went downstairs. I’d dressed for the day and cleaned my face as best I could. My eyes were still red and puffy, but at least they weren’t swollen like I’d been punched in the face. Considering how hard I’d cried earlier in the morning, I expected that.
If this were any other day, Mom would be in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Dad would be at the table reading the paper and greeting me when I came in. But nothing would be the same, and things would never be good again … At least, that was how it felt.
But I was surprised to smell bacon in the air as I made my way toward the kitchen. Surely, my little brother wasn’t up and cooking breakfast. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him touch the stove, and I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. Burning the house down wouldn’t be good, and it was the last thing we needed, considering it felt like we were losing everything.
When I stepped into the kitchen, I was met with Tyson’s back. He was at the stove cooking, and for some reason, it angered me.
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