You Are Here

by S. M. Lumetta

  When the pounding repeated itself, my heart hammered against my ribs. I could hear voices all but shouting for Lucie to open the door. At least one of them was easy to identify—Nash. The other, I was certain, was Vivi.

  I ducked to the opposite side of the front hall as Lucie pulled the door open, though not wide enough to invite them in. I was maybe five paces behind her and not easily visible.

  “Do you answer your fucking phone anymore? I know you said you had plans, but you don’t send a text? I was about to send a carrier pigeon, for Chrissakes. Is everything okay?” Vivi sounded simultaneously relieved and pissed as she pulled Lucie across the threshold to hug her.

  “I’m sorry,” Lucie said with a whine.

  “Shit, Red,” Nash groaned. I could partially see him rub his forehead with his palm. “Viv got freaked out and then she got me all paranoid. She only said that you didn’t answer—”

  Nash spotted me. “What the fuck is going on in here?” He shoved past Lucie, who lost balance and fell to the side. The door bounced off the opposite wall. I stepped forward to help her up, but Nash got in my face with his hands clamped around my throat, pinning me to the wall. I didn’t fight him, but I met his sharp glower dead-on.

  “I didn’t want to believe it,” he said, his voice low. Never a good sign for him. “Vivi told me you were here. That Lucie thought you were her dream man. ‘Nah,’ I said. ‘Couldn’t be, too coincidental,’ right? But here you are, you son of a bitch.”

  I blinked slowly and remained silent. I had nothing to counter with. Regardless of what Lucie said, I would never be anyone’s “dream.”

  She appeared behind him, clawing his shoulders. “Stop it! Nash, let him go,” she cried. Her eyes found mine and her tears were ready to fall.

  “Red—”

  Vivi pushed Nash to the side and took his place, her hand on my chest, pressing me against the wall.

  “Vivi, please!” Lucie shouted.

  Vivi stared me down, ignoring Lucie’s pleas. Nash paced like a caged tiger, chewing on his words at a volume too low to understand.

  “I should kick the ever-loving shit out of you,” Vivi growled at me, ignoring both of them. “Do you have any idea what you did when you abandoned her? She was an absolute wreck! She was convinced that she’d lost her mind.”

  “What? You didn’t tell me about that!” Nash bellowed, breaking his circuit of pacing.

  “I told you she flipped the fuck out!” Vivi shouted over her shoulder.

  “You didn’t say it was Grey!”

  “I … I didn’t? My bad, babe.” She bit her lip and shrugged.

  Lucie stepped between Vivi and me, slapping Vivi’s arm down. “Stop it! Can we all just calm down?”

  “No!” Vivi and Nash roared at the same time.

  Lucie jumped back into me, surprised. I held on to her arms, rubbing lightly. I saw Nash’s eyes zero in.

  “Why didn’t you say you had plans with Grey?” Vivi asked, venomous.

  Lucie fidgeted, avoiding her eye. “You were so mad at him after the freak-out, you know, and …” She turned and threw a guilty look over her shoulder at me before whispering, “I wanted this to myself.”

  “Dios mio,” Vivi continued, her pacing punctuated by the sharp knocks of her high heels. “When you don’t tell me this stuff, I automatically fast-forward to him strangling you to death and hiding the body!”

  My stomach dropped at the joke.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Lucie said, grabbing her hair in her fists. “I’m sorry! I turned my ringer off.”

  That seemed to take some of the wind out of Vivi’s sails. Not Nash, though. If anything, his pacing grew faster.

  “Honey,” she said, calmer. “I tried to be patient and all, knowing …,” she gestured reluctantly to me, “you know. But after the breakdown, I was really worried.”

  I glanced at Nash who was texting furiously. He backspaced more than he typed.

  “Sausage fingers,” I mumbled, accidentally smirking.

  His gaze snapped up and his eyes narrowed when he found me. “Don’t be my best friend right now,” he hissed. “I can’t take it.”

  My attention fell to the floor. Now that I wasn’t trying to escape him as I had in Chicago, his resentment didn’t sit so well. Referring to me as his best friend was uncomfortable, but for a completely different reason.

  “I love you guys,” Lucie snapped, “but give him a chance, okay?”

  “Baby, it’s okay,” I told Lucie, garnering me an extra death glare from Nash. “I wouldn’t ask for that.”

  Lucie’s shoulders slumped as she turned around to challenge me just as Drew appeared in the doorway.

  “Son. Of. A. Bitch,” he declared, out of breath. His face told me little. He looked lost.

  “Jesus, junior, did you run the whole way?”

  He didn’t even hear Nash. He walked in and stood in front of me. Lucie stayed, wrapping her arms around me, protecting me.

  “You’re seriously here.”

  Guilt pumped itself through my veins like acid and my chest hurt. I glanced at everyone and settled back on my brother’s face.

  “No one is more shocked by that than me,” I said.

  “And no one is less shocked than me,” Lucie grumbled, and I bit back a smile.

  “Grey.” Drew’s voice broke a little.

  I willed him to tell me what the hell he was thinking and froze when he gently pushed Lucie away. He hugged me so tightly it forced all the air out of my lungs. It took what felt like the better part of an hour to get my arms to reciprocate. I felt him shudder and wondered if he was crying.

  “I hate you so much.”

  I believed him, but I knew he hated more that he still loved me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m really so fucking sorry.”

  At the words, he hauled back to clock me in the jaw. I wanted him to do it, because I deserved it. But the soldier reacted first—not his brother.

  I blocked the shot, grabbing his fist and twisting his arm back. Next thing he knew I had my knee in his spine and his arm bent back painfully. He yelped, but it didn’t register with me. Nash pulled me off before I could break his arm.

  I heard Lucie yell, but when I turned to find her, Nash threw me toward the living room. He rushed me, swinging blindly. I could have blocked the first few easily, but I had already lost my balance. I heard Drew scramble to his feet. Moments later, we were a pile of scrapping teenagers.

  I defended myself initially, but then it occurred to me that beating the shit out of me might be the best apology I could give.

  So I let them.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lucie

  Salt and Wounds

  For all the previews my “gift” had provided me so far, I would have appreciated a heads-up on an accidental ambush. It had only been a couple of days since Vivi dropped me off after our spa weekend, but I should have realized how closely she was watching me since I’d nearly lost my shit. Regardless, I wouldn’t let them all steamroll Grey like this.

  Once I recognized that Grey had essentially stopped fighting, I stopped yelling and lunged forward to break it up. Vivi grabbed me by the shoulders before I could reach the pile of testosterone.

  “Just let them fight, babe,” she said. “Dudes just need to go Fight Club sometimes—especially siblings.”

  I shrugged off her hold. “Grey’s not even defending himself,” I snapped, frustrated that I was the only one who trusted him.

  “He deserves it,” she said pointedly.

  I nearly slapped her and glared. Her expression morphed to shock.

  “He deserves a chance,” I hissed and resumed my attempt to end the carnage.

  I got a fistful of Drew’s shirt and leaned back into my heels, trying to get leverage. I grabbed Nash’s arm to keep myself from actually falling on my ass, but he tried to swat me away and ended up nailing me in the face with the back of his fist. I shrieked and fell backward, narrowly missing the nearby c
hair. My hands immediately went to my face and I felt something wet. I looked at my palms and saw blood. For a moment, I was confused, but the edges of my vision went wonky as an unwanted memory blinked into frame. I remembered Jude’s lifeless eyes staring back at me from behind cracked glasses as we lay on the floor of our living room. Her face was bruised and cut. The blood was smeared and dried, and patterns of tear tracks ran along her cheeks.

  I crushed my eyelids shut when I heard my own screams in my head. A painful ringing washed over the sound and eventually drowned it out. When I opened my eyes, Nash was looking over Drew’s shoulder. Both men had scrapes and small cuts on their faces. Nash’s tie was crooked and pulled too tight, but he didn’t seem to care.

  “Red, are you okay? I’m sorry, I-I wasn’t paying attention. I’m really sorry.”

  “Jesus, Cro-Magnon, back up,” Drew barked as he held some kind of cloth around my nose. “She needs air, not your contrition.”

  “Ooh, look at you and your big words,” he taunted. “It’s as if you almost went to college.”

  “I was a fucking EMT, you dick, so why don’t you go sue someone for making you such an asshole.”

  “Boys! Seriously?” Vivi’s voice cut through the static. I heard her shoes clicking on the floor.

  I turned away from Drew’s attentions and frantically searched for Grey. When I couldn’t find him right away, I sat up quickly and spun. And by spun, I mean everything but me spun.

  “Shit.” I closed my eyes.

  Drew instructed me to lie down again.

  “Grey?” I needed to hear him.

  Nash grumbled, but warm hands tugged on my shoulders from behind.

  “I’m here, my Lu.”

  I allowed him to lay me back until my head rested on his lap. His subtle, sad smile drifted down to me, even though the litany of marks and a blooming black eye made it clear he’d been in a fight.

  “Baby,” I whimpered. I reached up to touch his face, but he took my hand and kissed my knuckles.

  “I’m fine.”

  After a few quiet and epically tense minutes, I slowly sat up. My lower half was covered in the blanket from the couch. I remembered with an explosion of heat in my cheeks that I was pantie-less under Grey’s shirt and they all probably got an eyeful. I was sitting bare-assed on the floor. Funnily enough, it was the second time in recent memory.

  I stood carefully and yanked down the hem of the shirt. Nash coughed and Drew pretended to clean up the towels and first aid stuff.

  “Thanks for flashing the coño, hon. Here,” Vivi said, throwing me a pair of shorts.

  “The what?”

  “Pussy,” she stage-whispered and shrugged, smiling as I eyeballed her.

  I turned to Grey, still and stony. I leaned into him and he softened. “I’m sorry for all this,” I whispered.

  “Nothing to be sorry for. It was mine to take.” He picked up the blanket and held it up as a dressing screen. “Put those on, please.”

  After my bottom half was properly covered, I lifted on my toes to kiss Grey, but bumped our noses together. I jumped back.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just a little sore.”

  “It’s not broken,” Drew offered. “It may swell a bit, and you may get the bruising around your eyes, but otherwise it’s fine.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nash repeated. “I didn’t mea—”

  “Well now, if we’re done acting like children,” Vivi said, cutting him off and openly angry with him, “maybe we can have an actual conversation.”

  Nash bristled. “Is it, or is it not true that just before this altercation you threatened to, and I quote, ‘kick the shit out of him’?” He played it cute to win points, even going so far as to walk theatrically across the floor and back. I’d seen this move before.

  “Not now, Bonnar,” Vivi snapped.

  “It’s a valid point though.”

  She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “If we’re being accurate, counselor, I said that I should kick the shit out of him. You should note that, in fact, I didn’t. Thereby, your argument is invalid.”

  Drew snorted and that made me laugh.

  “All right, FINE!” Nash threw his arms in the air. “Let’s talk. I have to be in court in an hour.”

  Everyone turned to Grey, and I was no exception. He avoided all of us, his stare tracking all around the room, looking at everything but us. “Okay.”

  Slowly, we shuffled toward the living room furniture. Drew, Nash, and Vivi took the couch, but Grey remained standing as if in front of a firing squad. I sat in my red chair, clinging to his hand. He squeezed.

  “You know, we almost had a conversation at dinner,” Nash spat, “before your pussy ass ran out like a sobbing little bitch.”

  “You weren’t exactly dry-eyed,” Vivi pointed out.

  His glare earned him a raised eyebrow in challenge, which only served to incite him.

  This was hilarious to Drew, whose sudden low chuckle quickly built into a wheezy laugh. “Who’s the little bitch now?” he asked.

  “Tears are a sign of strength!” Nash exploded.

  Drew fought to stop snickering.

  “So I wasn’t a sobbing pussy-ass bitch, then?” Grey asked, his voice quiet and gentle, but a little teasing, too. I thought he was reaching out, but when I looked up, I found his face slack and eyes dark.

  “You still were.”

  “Yeah, the pouting helps your case,” Drew quipped. “For sure.”

  “I will beat down the both of you—”

  “Okay, okay! Christ Almighty!” I shouted, jumping to my feet. “The three of you get in a room and you’re thirteen years old. It’s so deceptive when you look like men.”

  “I love you, Luce.” Vivi winked at me.

  I wanted to smile back, but I was too stressed. “Someone say or ask something useful. I have the least amount of knowledge on any of you, especially when it comes to the past, so speak up or everyone can just leave. I love all of you but I’m about to get medieval up in here.”

  “Dude, she just dropped a Pulp Fiction reference!” Nash stage-whispered.

  Vivi ignored him.

  Nash cleared his throat. “Right. Okay, I’ll go.”

  “Why do you get to go?” Drew asked, offended. “You had your chance in Chicago!”

  Grey shook his head and let go of my hand. I looked at him with worried eyes, but he had pinched his shut. His fingers tangled in his curls, twisting and pulling. He dropped his hands to his sides.

  “How about I start?” he said, his voice strong as it carried through the apartment. “I’m the one with the goddamn answers you want.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Grey

  Buried Treasure

  Even when I had the floor, I didn’t.

  “Would you put on a fucking shirt, man?” Nash snarled before I could say another word. “I’m sick of looking at your pasty-ass chest with that piss-poor excuse for chest hair.”

  “We’re not all orangutans, asshole,” Drew muttered. “And not everyone goes to the tanning salon.”

  “Ellicott, I swear to Christ. I went once, God dammit, and it was because it was winter and the UV can be a mood lift. I have seasonal affective disorder.” Nash pointed at Drew as if to drive the point home. “All I got was a rash on my back and burn stripes.”

  “Yeah, you have a disorder, all right,” Drew mumbled.

  Johnny Cash warbled out of me before I had the chance to stop it. “I got stripes.”

  Nash, predictably, was not amused.

  Drew was this close to offering me a high five. Even though he didn’t, he dissolved into laughter that corrupted me for a moment.

  “I hate you guys.” Nash stalled his chuckles with righteous indignation.

  Drew and Vivi rolled their eyes in unison and silence settled over us. They were waiting for me to talk. I lifted my eyes and volleyed around the room. Lucie offered me an encouraging smile and her hand. I nodded but didn’t take i
t.

  “Stop deciding what you’re gonna hide.” Nash’s statement wasn’t exactly inaccurate.

  I knew this was unavoidable, but that only made it shittier. I kept my eyes locked on the carpet at Drew’s feet and dragged in a breath.

  “I ran away. From everything, from Dad, from you guys, all of it.”

  “Revelatory,” Nash barked bitterly.

  “Nash, you wanted him to talk, let him talk,” Vivi said, her arms crossed as she watched me.

  “I tried to talk with that fucker, and he fucking walked out on me,” he said. “You know—”

  “Please?” Lucie stood and grabbed my hand. “Please just listen?”

  Nash gave a little. And gritted his teeth a little more. “Fine. Forty-five minutes. Then I gotta go.”

  “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

  Nash chuffed. Drew sighed and asked, “Just … where have you been?”

  I thought about that for a while, ultimately shaking my head. “Everywhere and nowhere.”

  “Fucking hell, I need coffee,” Vivi muttered. She stood and walked to the kitchen.

  “Make a full pot. And put booze in it,” Nash shouted.

  “I’m going to help her, okay?” Lucie looked at me like I might crumble. She stood on tiptoes to kiss me. She rubbed her palm over my heart. Before walking away, she patted the spot as if to remind me.

  Looking back to the couch, I found Nash spearing me with his eyes. He was obviously protective of Lucie.

  “Did you even get my letters?” Nash could not stop himself. It was comical. “I wrote letters.”

  “Christ on a cracker, will we never hear the end of your stupid letters?” Drew looked as if he were contemplating sealing Nash’s mouth shut with duct tape.

  Pain grew behind my left eye like a slow-motion mushroom cloud and I squinted, scrunching up part of my face. I rubbed my temple. “I got the letters, and all the messages Drew left. I just … had nothing to say.”

  I wanted the explanation to sound more genuine. It was true, but I knew they wanted more. For an entire year, messages came and I ignored them. Nash’s letters were too painful to read. I’d barely gotten through half of the first one before I tore it up and threw it away. I had eventually erased Drew’s messages without listening to them before I got rid of my phone altogether.