by Vi Carter
“God Grace. Claire idolizes you.” Amber’s emotional outburst annoyed me.
“I know that. But Craig is also my friend,” I said quietly, and she tutted, sniffing.
“Do whatever you want.”
I looked at my best friend as Peter tightened his arms around her. “I have got to go,” I told Derek and left. My stomach tightened. But I needed to get to Craig.
“Let me drive you.” Derek walked behind me.
“It’s fine.”
Derek took my arm stopping me. “Grace. Just let me drive you.”
I nodded, unable to fight anymore.
We got into Derek’s jeep, and I directed him to Craig’s mother’s house. “Why is this so important to you?” Derek asked. I could hear the anger in his voice, the anger he was trying to keep at bay.
“Because I know Craig, and right now he’s blaming himself," I answered. Why was everyone finding it so hard to understand that Craig would blame himself?
“Are your friends not right? Did he not give it to her?”
“He would have, but that doesn’t make it his fault.” I defended him, my stomach tightening the closer we got. To my relief, Derek remained silent the rest of drive; he just followed my instructions. But his hands tightened on the steering wheel. He pulled up at Craig’s mother’s house. It still looked the same. Derelict, unloved, and unwanted, much like Craig himself.
Suddenly, Derek spoke, catching me off-guard. “Do you love him?” Derek asked as he faced forward, not looking at me, his hands gripped the steering wheel.
I did, but not in the way he was asking. I sighed, “Not romantically, Derek. He’s a friend, and I’m the only one he has.” Now he looked at me, his eyes had darkened.
“Before your phone rang in your apartment, what was your decision?"
Now I looked away, focusing on my hand that gripped the handle of the door? I didn’t want to do this right now. Maybe I should. Maybe I would save him all the pain that staying with me caused. Look at Claire now. Another person dying. “Goodbye,” I told him as I got out. I didn’t glance back as he pulled away. I didn’t dwell on the decision I had made. Instead, I focused on helping Craig.
His mother answered, a fag hanging out of the side of her mouth, her blond curly hair piled on top of her head. In her day, she was a stunning-looking woman but now, after so many years of alcohol abuse, she was far older than her years. “Hi, Mrs. Jones,” I said. She shrugged uninterestedly, her top falling off her frail and thin shoulders.
“He’s in his room, sulking as usual,” she said before turning away. She hit the wall, straightened herself up and stumbled back into the sitting room. I closed the front door behind me.
Craig looked up the moment I walked in, his face twisted in agony. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t respond but moved to his bed and sat down taking him in my arms, and he cried.
“It’s not your fault,” I told him, but he just continued to cry. My own tears joined his.
“Is she dead? Is that why you are here?” I sat back, but took his hands. This moment was vital. Craig had enough badness in his life without adding another thing to it, so my mission here today was to make sure he didn’t blame himself.
“No, I just knew you would blame yourself.” He looked away from me. “But you know it’s not your fault?” I added, and he looked at me, his eyes filled with pain.
“I gave it to her. I didn’t care if she got hurt,” a tear fell down his cheek. My stomach twisted at his words.
“You didn’t think about anyone getting hurt. It doesn’t make it your fault, Craig.”
His eyes were so tormented. “I didn’t care, Grace. It’s really that simple.” I couldn’t accept what he was saying. Of course he cared.
“She’s an adult,” I said back, trying to keep the control on this situation, but a tightness in my chest was making it hard.
Craig laughed. “You’re some friend. She’s dying right now,” he pulled his hands out of mine. “What are you doing here?” His voice was rising hysterically.
“I want to help you.” I didn’t look at him, I was finding it hard to breathe.
He knelt down in front of me. “You? Help me?” Now he laughed a bitter laugh. “You’re a mess, Grace. Do you know how messed up it is that you're here?”
I looked into his angry eyes. “I’m...your friend...I’m trying to help you,” I was breathless now. My breaths where fast and hard. He had asked me to be his constant. That’s what I was trying to be, to be there for at least one person.
“No. You are trying to fix me. Because that is what you do. You fix people because, for whatever reason, you’re broken. And you won’t stay with Claire because she’s dying, and you have no control." Now I stood up. What was he talking about? I shook my head in denial. “You’re angry and upset Craig...”
His hands grabbed my forearms, and he squeezed, causing pain to ignite in both my arms. Fear and uncertainty skittered along my spine. “Listen to me. I am at fault. I can live with that. I fucked up. But you...” he let me go. “You need to take care of you,” he looked at me with a softness in his eyes. “I love you, Grace. I love you enough to know you need to go,” he turned away from me, and I was stunned at what was happening.
“You aren’t thinking clearly," I said, still struggling to breathe correctly.
“Things have never been so clear for me, Grace. I need to own up to what I have done. I can’t keep blaming my mother for the way I am. These are my choices, so I will live with the consequences.” I sat back down on his bed. When had this happened? When had Craig become so wise? “Right now, I need to be alone. You should be with Claire; she thought the world of you."
I looked away as tears fell. “If you need me, I’m only a phone call away," I whispered while standing.
“I know you are.”
I left Craig’s house a little stunned. Our conversation was on repeat in my head. I hadn’t seen that coming. I hadn’t thought for one second that Craig wouldn’t need me, that he would see the road he was on. He had asked me to be his constant, and that’s what I had tried to be.
When I looked up I was surprised to see the black jeep sitting across the road. Derek looked at me, and my heart pounded. He was still here, he didn’t leave. I stared at him for a moment before crossing the road. I couldn’t stop the tears as I got closer to the jeep. That’s all I seemed to do lately was cry. The moment I got into the jeep Derek pulled me into his chest and he kissed the top of my head. Not another word was said as he started the jeep. I put on my seatbelt and he took me back to the hospital.
***
There I found Amber, Luke, and Peter still sitting. I sat down beside them not saying a word. Amber’s hand found mine, and I looked at her. “How is he?” she asked.
“He’ll be okay,” I told her, grateful that I wasn’t the target of anger. She nodded, and we lapsed into silence. Peter got us all coffees and sandwiches. People came and went in the waiting room; it was hours later before a doctor appeared. I had fallen asleep on Derek’s shoulder, and he shook me awake gently. When I opened my eyes and looked into his my heart fluttered and I smiled at him, forgetting for a moment where I was and what had happened. “The doctor has news about Claire,” Derek said bringing me back to the hospital waiting room. For the briefest moment, I thought we were still at his ranch, and reality came crashing down. I sat up with a shock and Amber took my hand, her other hand resting on her stomach.
“It’s good news, she’s awake.”
My first thought was to thank God. Craig would be okay.
“Can we see her?” I asked, ignoring the nudge of guilt at Claire not being my first thought.
“She needs her rest," the doctor looked at us all. “I suggest you all get some rest and come back tomorrow."
CHAPTER THIRTY
DEREK
WHEN I PULLED UP to Craig’s house, too many memories rushed me. At the side of the house, there was a black bunker, one that I had stowed countless packages in. That had been my j
ob for Emmett, deliver the goods and ask no questions. Craig's father, Michael, didn’t live here. Neither his wife, nor Craig knew what he did. But now, knowing that Michael was Craig’s father, it made me realize why he was so messed up. Michael had always denied Craig as his own, and he left once Craig’s mother fell pregnant with him. I had known their names and story, but never saw their faces. Now, knowing it was Grace’s Craig and finally seeing his mother’s face, made my stomach tighten.
We left the hospital, and I took Grace home. She bit her nails while staring out the window. She never spoke a word. Her silence scared the shit out of me.
GRACE
Derek and I had just sat when he spoke.
“I need to know what’s going on.” Derek said. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees; the struggle evident in his eyes. He didn’t seem like a man who would go back on his word, yet he was here after I said goodbye. Craig’s words about me being broken made me take a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, I was ready to tell my story. I loosened the grip that I had on my hands, while nodding to Derek.
Here goes everything.
“My brother, James, he was more like my son than a brother. We had a shitty mother. She was a drunk, and vacant most of the time. Most times it was James and me,” I paused, taking a breather, and also to gauge his reaction. Derek didn’t say anything, but waited for me to continue. My stomach lurched, not wanting to keep going, but a part of me knew I had to. “We did everything together. He wasn’t like all the other little brothers. He wasn’t annoying; I didn’t want him to go away. He really made me smile, he made me laugh,” My eyes had been burning since I started speaking, and now I couldn’t hold the pain and tears back. They trickled down my face, but I wiped them as they fell. “Just give me a moment.”
Derek nodded. “Yeah, of course.” His voice was so soft that it made my pulse quicken.
Each step I took towards my room had that surreal feeling to it. It felt like forever as I retrieved my small shoe box from the last drawer, taking it with me I went and sat back down in the sitting room. My hands shook slightly as I removed the lid. A watch with a cracked screen stared at me. I held it for a moment before looking back at Derek, who looked as if he was holding his breath. At that moment, I think the world was. Dread pooled in my stomach, and a fear that had me clutching the watch.
“Grace.” Derek’s softly spoken word had me looking at him, blinking the tears back. I had to do this.
“My boyfriend, Simon, had broken up with me. He was a pompous ass, to be honest, but at the time it seemed like the end of the world. So, when I got home, I didn’t notice that my mother had been drinking again, or how my father locked himself away in his study.” I bit my lip stopping it from shaking, as the scene played out before me. “But James was waiting for me with a big smile, a football tucked under his right arm. He wanted me to play with him, but I was too upset.” I stopped, wiping away more falling tears. “I gave him my watch and told him when the small hand got to thirty I would go out and play with him. He was so happy. His eyes, they were huge brown ones, that just swallowed you up. He was just adorable.” I stopped again, my heart aching, my watch dug into my palm and I closed my eyes, I needed to finish this. “So, I was on my phone giving out about Simon. It was so stupid.” A small laugh found its way through my tears.
“Time got away from me. I didn’t realize how long I was on the phone. It wasn’t until I heard screams…the screams of my father that made me run outside.” I hung my head, the image tearing at me. Derek shifted, as if moving towards me, but I couldn’t handle that. If I was to tell the story, I needed to focus. “Stay where you are,” I told him. He nodded, sitting back. I was thankful that he understood what I needed right now. If he held me, I would break, and I needed to tell him.
“My dad was still screaming. James was lifeless in his arms, his blood was all over the ground, all over my Dad. God, there was so much blood, and he was so small. I remember wondering where all the blood was coming from." I cried now, the image so clear. “I tried to do CPR, but he was gone.” I sobbed, “When the paramedics and cops got there, they opened his hand." Now I opened mine showing him the watch. “He had gone outside when I told him I would be there. He had thrown the ball, went after it, and a drunk driver hit him. He went outside because I told him to. Because I said I would play with him."
“Grace. That's not your fault…”
I held up my hands. “My mother couldn’t accept what had happened, and she’s in a psychiatric unit. Well, Emmet has shipped her to a more natural rehabilitation center. My father died shortly after. I think it was all too much,” I wiped the tears. “It’s been two years, and for two years, I have blamed myself for destroying my family. For two years I have held myself responsible,” I wiped away more tears. “Until today. I now realize it wasn’t my fault,” I started to cry again, this time with a sense of relief. The burden that I had carried wasn’t mine to carry anymore. I realised that today, with Craig. I don’t know what it was, but hearing him take responsibility for Claire made me realise that I had taken responsibility for something I didn’t do. This time, when Derek came to me, I didn’t stop him. He held me as I cried. I cried until there was nothing left to cry, and it was the stiffness that Derek held me with that gave me pause. I finally looked at him and, with a sucker-punch to the gut, I realized he was afraid.
“Derek?” I questioned, pulling away from him to look at him.
“My father—" Derek’s skin had gone ghostly pale, and his words were slurred slightly as if he was drunk. Dread trickled down my spine. “My father was the driver.”
I moved fully away from him, not sure what he was saying. “What?”
“Grace…My father was the drunk driver. The one who killed your brother."
Why was he saying that?
“No. What?” Every muscle in my body felt heavy and solid, as my heart spiked in my chest.
“Why would you say that?” I shook my head as I spoke. My hand fluttering to my throat as Derek’s eyes glistened.
“No. This isn’t funny."
It was the tears that fell from Derek’s eyes that made my stomach twist in recognition. I was in front of him in a second. My hands hit his face and chest over and over again. He never once stopped me. When I couldn’t hit him anymore, I turned away from him. “Did you know who I was?” I looked at him over my shoulder, he didn’t answer me, but it was plain as day on his face. “It makes sense now. You appear out of nowhere, you get in with my friends, join my class, move across the hall from me. What was this to you?” He stayed silent, unable to speak, his hands sat limply on his knee. I moved towards him again and my hand connected with his face. “You sick son of a bitch, answer me,” I roared.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his face ashen and sad.
My heart broke a little more. I had fallen in love with him, but it was a lie. “Get out.” He didn’t move straight away. “I said get out.” I screamed, feeling the burn along my throat. Derek stood, his chest rising and falling quickly.
“Please.” His word tore at me, I could hear the loss. Folding my arms I looked at the fridge as tears started to trickle.
“Get out.” This time, I didn’t shout and he left.
The door closing was like a dam bursting. I broke again, and this time I wasn’t sure I could be fixed. As I stood in my living area, my plant shed its last and final leaf, summing everything up. I let out a battle cry while racing towards the plant. Picking it up, I hurled it out the window of my second story apartment.
DEREK
My face and chest throbbed from Grace hitting me, but I hurt so much more knowing I had lost her. It’s always when you lose something that you realize you truly loved it.
I entered my apartment and started to pack. I was a dead man, and what situation had I landed my family in? They would lose everything, now. I heard a scream and then glass breaking. I stood frozen in my apartment, listening but that was it, then silence. I was sure it had
come from Grace’s apartment. I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn’t. She wouldn’t want me to.
Grabbing a bag, I stuffed my clothes into it, threw on a hoodie, grabbed my phone and keys and left.
I drove in circles not sure where to go. Going home wasn’t an option. I pulled into a local supermarket and knocked off the car.
The cigarette made me focus as I tried to calm myself. Maybe if I spoke to Emmett, explained somehow, maybe he would let me pay off my debt in another way. “Shit,” I hit the steering wheel. I didn’t want to sell drugs; I didn’t want any dealings with it. That is, if Emmett forgave this debt, and that wasn’t likely. Yeah, I was so screwed.
GRACE
My tears soon turned to anger. I got out of bed feeling confused, lost, and alone. After I had thrown the plant out the window I had lain here and cried. Now, I just wanted answers.
I knocked on Derek’s door, but no one answered. I pounded his door, still, no one answered.
“Grace, hun?” Amber stood on the top step, holding a piece of my plant. I stared at it until my vision blurred. Amber’s arm moved around my waist as she steered me into my apartment and onto the couch, where I collapsed.
“What’s happened?” She put the plant on the coffee table and took my hands, making me look at her.
“Derek, his dad was the driver who killed James.” I said in an exhausted voice. Amber pulled me into her, but I had no more tears to cry. I was so tired.
“Oh, hunny.” Amber stroked my back and just held me. I could feel her body shake, she was crying. It wasn’t fair to her, she was pregnant.