Before We Fall

by Courtney Cole

  Brand stares at me, and something flickers in his eyes. I’ve seen him look that way before, haunted and sad. But then he hides it and shrugs.

  “If he won’t say, then maybe he should blame himself. Maybe it is his fault,” he suggests softly.

  “I doubt it,” I mutter. But then I see Brand’s face, and his soft gaze, and I’m reminded once again of the truth.

  For him, I’m no longer his little sister. His feelings for me have grown. I can’t cry to him anymore about my issues with men. Not when he’s in love with me.

  God. Why did I come here? My heart squeezes in my chest and I reach for Brand’s hands.

  “Brand, I’m sorry to unload on you like this. It isn’t fair now that I know how you feel…”

  My voice trails off like the dumbass I am. But Brand levels a stare at me.

  “How do I feel?” he asks quietly. He’s hesitant and nervous and appalled. If I tried to lie, it would be an insult to him.

  “I can see how you feel about me,” I say limply. “I’m sorry, Brand. I wish I felt the same way. You’re the best person I know. It’s why I always come to you, because you’re so fucking amazing. I wish that I loved you like you want me to.”

  He flushes, the first time I’ve ever seen him flush.

  “It’s okay,” he says quietly. “It’s my issue to deal with, not yours. It’s not your fault that things changed for me and not for you. I’ll get a handle on it. We won’t change, Jace.”

  I stare at him, at the goodness in his eyes and his heart. Brand is just so… good. Through and through. All along, I’ve been chasing what’s bad for me when maybe the very best thing for me has been in front of me all along.

  On impulse, I lean over and kiss him. On the mouth.

  He kisses me back. For one split second. Then he pulls away. I try to cling to him, but he pushes me away.

  “Make me feel better, Brand,” I murmur pleadingly. “Please.”

  Brand glares at me as he takes a deep breath.

  “Jesus, Jacey. Give me a second.”

  He pulls himself under control as I breathe harshly on the opposite end of the sofa. He finally turns and looks at me, and there is pain in his eyes.

  “You don’t want me,” he says pointedly. “Not really. I know that and you know that. You want Dominic Kinkaide, but you can’t have him, so you want to use me to fill up the rejection that you feel. It’s not fair, Jace. Not to me and not to you.”

  He’s breathing hard as he watches me, as he waits for my reaction. I close my eyes and he continues.

  “This is what you always do, Jacey. You’ve done it since you were a teenager. I’ve stood by and watched it. Your dad was never home, he never cared, and you sought out that acceptance and approval for years from random guys. And when you’re rejected, you run straight to the next guy. But you can’t do that anymore.”

  I choke on my tears because I know he’s right. Because I know it and because that’s exactly what my therapist told me. It’s humiliating and true and horrible.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I mumble before I start crying again. “I’m a horrible, weak person. I’m sorry if I led you on, Brand. I didn’t mean to. I love you. You’re like my brother, and I can’t stand the thought of being without you.”

  Brand pulls me into his arms again, pulling me to his chest where I hide my face. I try to ignore the fact that my chest is pushed against him. I’d never have worried about that before, and I hate it that I think of it now.

  “First, you’ll never be without me. Not ever. Got it?” Brand stares down at me, his eyes stern. I nod.

  “And second, you’re not horrible. You’re beautiful and strong. And what’s more, you’ve pretty much got this shit figured out. You chose to walk away from Dominic because he can’t be what you need. That’s half the battle, Jacey. Now all you’ve got to do is figure out how to stop running to a new guy to make you feel better. You don’t need their acceptance, Jacey. You’re strong enough to deal with things on your own.”

  I snivel into his shirt, breathing in his familiar cologne.

  “I don’t think I am.” I sigh. “I don’t feel strong. Ever since Jared… did what he did, I’ve tried not to be weak. I’ve tried to change, but I’m starting to think it’s impossible. At least for me. Because against my better judgment, I fell for Dominic, Brand. I knew better, and I did it anyway. And he was the worst possible person for me to fall for.”

  “But you walked away, Jacey. That’s huge.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble. “And I came here and tried to force myself on you instead.”

  Brand’s chest rumbles as he speaks with a voice that has always had the power to soothe me, even now when he’s in love with me and I’m crying to him about another guy.

  “You want to know what your grandma told me once?” he asks, and I raise my head.

  “My Gran?”

  Brand nods. “Yeah. It was one summer when I was staying at their lake house with you. She and I were down by the lake and I was upset over some girl… she’d broken up with me and I thought that the world was ending. I told her that I was never going to love anyone else again, because falling in love was the dumbest thing in the world because it hurt so much.”

  I have to smile, because I can practically see teenage Brand saying that. Brand is and always was a one hundred percent in or out kind of guy. “What did Gran say?”

  “Your grandma was the wisest person I ever knew.” He nods. “She looked at me and she said, ‘Branden, the best things in life are worth the greatest risk. Falling in love is one of those things. Can it break our hearts? Yes. Most definitely. But more often than not, before we fall, we fly’.”

  “What the heck did that mean?” I ask in confusion. Brand nods again.

  “That’s exactly what I asked her. It didn’t make any sense. But then she explained and it was perfect. She said we’re like birds who leap from trees for the first time, terrified that they’re going to crash and die on the ground below. The bird will almost always fly before it falls to its death. So too will we, and so we shouldn’t be afraid to do the things that will bring us the greatest reward… like falling in love.”

  “But what if we fall in love with the wrong people?” I stammer. “Because I’ve done that a hundred times, and each time I’ve gotten hurt or hurt someone else. I’m tired of doing that. How many times do we have to fall before we finally fly?”

  Brand shakes his head and grins wryly. “I didn’t ask your Gran that.”

  I shake my head, but Brand lifts my chin with his finger. “It might take several failures, but eventually it will happen. I don’t know if it will happen with this guy or not, but you’ll learn something from each failed attempt. So at least there’s that.”

  I can’t help but stare at him. “I’m not sure that’s comforting.”

  Brand chuckles. “I know. And that’s actually what I thought back when your Gran had this discussion with me in the first place. But just think on it, and after you do, you’ll see that what she said is true. Before you fall, you’ll fly, Jacey. Whether it’s now or later, it’ll happen. I promise.”

  “I just hope it happens before my wings get broken,” I mutter, curling up on his chest. He chuckles softly and pats my back. I rest that way for a while longer before I sit up and straighten my clothes.

  “I’m sorry, Brand,” I tell him, looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry that I always run to you. That you always have to pick me up and put me back together. I’m sorry that it seems like I use you. I don’t mean to. It’s just that… deep down, I always feel like I’m not good enough. And you always make me feel like I am. But I’m going to stop depending on you to remind me of that. I’m going to have to remind myself.”

  Brand bends forward and presses his lips to my forehead.

  “Just be you, Jacey. You are always good enough and then some. You really have come a long way since everything happened with Jared. Just keep it up. Tonight was just a tiny slipup. You ca
me to me because I’m familiar. That’s all. You’re doing great.”

  I can’t help but smile as I get up and walk out. Pausing in the doorway, I look back.

  “Thank you. You’ll never know how much I love you.”

  Brand smiles, but I can see the sadness in it.

  “Don’t worry,” he tells me easily in his Brand-like way. “I know. I love you too, but I’m going to need some space for a while, Jace. I’m going to pull my head together and sort this out so that I love you the way I should… the way you love me. I’m always here for you if you need me, but try not to need me for a while, OK?”

  I nod as my heart swells in my throat at the thought of how I have accidentally hurt one of the people I love most in the world.

  “OK,” I agree. “I’ll give you space. I’m sorry, Brand.”

  I feel utterly sad as I walk out to my car, but I have to admit that I feel stronger. Being with Brand always makes me feel stronger. He knows me. He’s always known me. There’s comfort in familiarity like that. I hate that I can’t give him what he needs, and in a weird way, that only makes me feel closer to Dom.

  Because I know how he feels.

  He can’t give me what I need, either.

  Sighing, I blink my tears away and drive into the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Dominic

  The world is unraveling.

  After I arrive a few hours late and receive a firm chastising from the director, I go through the motions on-set, then fly back to Chicago, then go to work at the gym. The entire time, I can’t feel anything. I’m utterly numb. But when I walk into the gym, my breath catches, because for the first time in days I feel something.

  The desire to see Jacey.

  And when I do see her, when I bump into her, she turns away like I’m not there, like I don’t even exist, exactly the way I’ve treated her a hundred times in the past. And that moment is when I know why the world is falling to shit.

  I need her.

  I need her in my life. I knew I wanted her before, but to know that I need her is something entirely different, something terrifying, and the mere thought causes my heart to pound. The problem is, she doesn’t need me. She’s barely acknowledges my presence, barely glances at me.

  She’s definitely learned the art of being detached from its best practitioner.

  Me.

  Being on the receiving end of such iciness is complete shit. For the first time in years, my heart fucking hurts… because I’ve opened it up to that. It’s an aching reminder of why I’ve always shut myself off, away from people.

  It isn’t worth the pain.

  I look around as I wipe off the counters in the kitchen, musing about how much has changed in a few weeks time. I just finished making twenty peanut butter sandwiches and wrapping them in foil. Why?

  Because Joe insists on sending sandwiches home with the boys, because so many of them don’t have enough to eat. Why does this signify change? Because I just found myself making a mental note to buy some pre-charged debit cards to send home with some of them for groceries. They shouldn’t have to worry about eating.

  But this isn’t something I would even have thought of a month ago.

  Just like how a month ago, my heart wouldn’t be hurting. It would be safe and sound in its cage of ice. I’m not sure what’s better.

  Jacey sticks her head into the kitchen, interrupting my thoughts and talking to me for the first time since we arrived this morning.

  “Hey, have you seen the ladder?” she asks me quietly, hesitantly. She glances around the kitchen for it at the same time I do.

  “No,” I tell her needlessly. “It’s not here.”

  She starts to turn away, but I say her name and she looks back at me. She pauses in the doorway hesitatingly, her eyes saying what her lips won’t.

  I trusted you. But it was a mistake and I won’t do it again.

  It gives me pause and I close my mouth, swallowing all of the words that I’d wanted to say.

  I’m conflicted. I might need her, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t give her what she needs.

  She looks impatient, but all I can do is shake my head. “Never mind.”

  She turns and walks away, but not before I see the disappointment flash across her face.

  To distract myself from thinking about her, or about the fact that I might’ve let the only good person that I know in the world slip through my fingers, I pile the sandwiches in several neat stacks and fold napkins to go with them.

  As I fold the last napkin, I hear a commotion coming from the gym. Curious, I head out to see what’s going on, only to find a crowd of boys congregated around the ladder in the middle of the room. Some are kneeling, some are standing, but they’re all in a circle around something.

  My heart starts pounding as I see Jacey’s pink tennis shoe poking through the legs.

  Shoving through the crowd, I get there just as Joe does.

  Jacey is motionless on the floor, and my heart stops as I stare down at her limp form. She’s crumpled on the floor, utterly still, her face devoid of color, her eyes closed.

  Holy fuck. I can’t breathe. Because I can’t lose her. Because she doesn’t deserve this.

  Because I can’t do this again.

  “What the hell happened?” Joe barks as he kneels down beside her. I’m motionless, frozen, as I stare at her still body.

  “She was changing the light bulb like you asked,” Tig explains quickly. “But she tripped coming back down the ladder. I think she hit her head on the cement.”

  “Jesus,” Joe mutters as he feels her head. “That’s a big lump. Someone call an ambulance.” No one moves, so he barks, “Now!”

  Jake bolts for the office and I’m finally able to move.

  I woodenly shove through the boys and drop to my knees beside her. I grab her hand and her fingers are so cold. The coldness sends panic rippling through me, and I shake her shoulder. Hard.

  “Jacey, wake up,” I tell her firmly, my heart firmly lodged in my throat. “Wake up.”

  She doesn’t even twitch.

  This can’t be happening again.

  “Jacey,” I shake her. “Jacey.”

  I’m panicked now, overwhelmed by emotion and déjà vu, so much so that I can’t think straight. The last time I was in this situation it didn’t end well.

  It can’t happen this time.

  This time, all I can think is that I need to make Jacey wake up, no matter what it takes. I squeeze her hand and shake her shoulder, chanting her name.

  “Be careful, son,” Joe advises. “You shouldn’t move her neck.”

  “I’m not your son,” I tell him without even looking up. “She needs to wake up.”

  “Yes,” Joe agrees calmly. “She does. But don’t move her.”

  I ignore him and shake her lightly one more time, and we’re both surprised when she opens her eyes. A thrill like a jolt of electricity ripples through me.

  “Dominic?” she asks groggily, staring at me with blurry eyes, trying to focus. “What happened?”

  The relief that floods me is overwhelming. Thank Christ.

  “You fell,” I tell her softly. “And you hit your head, but you’re going to be fine. We’re going to take you to the hospital.”

  “An ambulance is on the way,” Jake calls out, jogging over from the office. “Did you trip on your bad foot, Jace?” he asks, kneeling next to me and staring down at Jacey.

  She shakes her head in confusion. “I don’t know.”

  Guilt eats at me because I didn’t even know her foot was still bothering her. What I do know is she hurt her foot in the first place because of me. Protecting me.

  I sit with her wordlessly, holding her hand until the paramedics arrive. They load her onto a gurney and roll her into the back of the ambulance, where I insist on riding with her. She’s still disoriented, and I can’t stand the thought of sending her away alone.

  “Are you a family member?” one of them ask
s, staring at me curiously. I see the realization when it dawns. “Aren’t you Dominic Kinkaide?”

  “Yeah,” I nod. “I’m her brother.”

  Jacey’s eyes are fluttering closed again. At this point and the EMT looks at me, knowing that I’m lying but not questioning my words. “Keep your sister awake,” she instructs. “I’m going to start an IV.”

  I squeeze Jacey’s hand.

  “Jace, you’ve got to stay awake. Let’s talk about the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. Or about racing. Do you want to go back out to the track?”

  “Not with you,” she tells me groggily, her eyelids fluttering. “I’m not going anywhere with you again, Dom. You’re fucking toxic.”