26 years old
“Okay, let me wrap my head around this.” He legitimately grips his head and stares at me, his incredible lips flat, his tempting eyes wary. “You didn’t leave me by choice, you were kidnapped?” Then he laughs like I’m hilarious. “So why didn’t anybody but me report you missin’? Why did nobody ask for you? Why didn’t your mee-maw do anything?”
I open my mouth to answer all his questions but he raises his hand.
“All you do is lie. How can I believe a word you say?”
This time I lift a shoulder. “Clearly you’ve made up your mind, Kane.” I brush past him, feeling irritated and bitter that he could laugh at my pain and act as though I’m not being honest when I am. Or at least I’m trying to be. “I’m going to get dressed.”
He doesn’t follow for a moment but when I reach my bedroom his chest hits my back and his hand snakes around my waist.
“What’s your name now?” he asks softly. “What does everybody call you?”
“Still Immy, but my surname is Messer.”
“And why did you change your name?”
“I was tryna get to that part Kane but you’re not interested in listening.”
He holds me so tight I can’t breathe. “Fuck you. I’m just not interested in listening to more of your lies.”
“That’s fine.”
“You said you were pregnant but didn’t have an abortion.” He squeezes me again. “So must mean you had the kid, so where is it? Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me?”
“I was gettin’ to that too.”
He pulls away and mutters a curse. “Naw… I’m gonna need more than just your words, Imogen. I need proof.”
“Proof?”
“Pictures, birth certificates, something. You’re telling me I got a kid, I need evidence before I let myself feel it here.” He hits his chest with his fist.
“This evidence enough?” I ask, pulling up my nightdress to my waist, showing him my lace-clad pussy and the scar only a couple of inches above it. It’s a silver and pink blur now, resting below stripes that wrinkle my otherwise tight skin. Evidence that I was pregnant once and it changed my body.
“I don’t know dick about love,” he reads, his expression intense but vacant, from the tattoo directly above the scar. It sits at the left side in pretty scrawl. “But I know that I love you.”
His eyes find mine and mine fill with tears. I register the look of horror on his face as we share this revealing moment. Our souls collide and burn together, forever changing with the intensity of just our gazes locking. Finally he is learning the truth. “Where’s my kid, Immy?”
“I told you this would haunt you Kane. There’s no going back.”
“Where’s my kid?” His tone is dark and desperate and his breath is faster now, more agitated.
“I don’t know.” I close my eyes and tears spill down my cheeks. “I don’t know.”
“HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW?”
“SHE WAS TAKEN FROM ME!”
He places his hand against the wall for support. “You’re gonna need to start from the beginning.”
“I did try,” I snap, wiping my eyes on the back of my wrist.
“I know.” He rubs his face with his hands, looking ready to vomit. He’s trying to stay calm but I can see his pain and turmoil. “I’m listenin’ now. I’m listenin’ and I ain’t talkin’ unless I have to. There are so many gaps that I need filling but I’m gonna try and be respectful. But if you give me bullshit or you give me an answer I don’t like or believe, I’m fucking done with you Immy. You hear me?”
My body is trembling as I approach the sofa and sit on it. He moves to the window and looks out at the scenery, likely unable to look at me.
“Matthew knew I was pregnant. He was the only one who knew…”
17 years old
“Oh dear Lord, save me from this child.”
“Fuck off, Mee-maw,” Matthew snarls and I hear Officer Barny reading him his rites. What the fuck is going on?
I leap out of bed, tired and dazed and skid into the hall, almost tumbling down the stairs. “What happened?”
My brother has been pinned to the ground with his hands at the base of his spine. His eyes are bloodshot and swollen, his nose is bleeding. He looks awful. He definitely looks high.
“Please Officer Barny, be as discreet as you can.”
“Of course,” the officer tips his hat and smiles sadly at me. “I’m sorry y’all had to see this.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, moving to Mee-maw’s side as my brother thrashes on the ground like a possessed man.
“What do you think?” she replies bitterly. “He’s been poisoning his veins and soul!”
“He assaulted two people tonight, that’s all I can say on the matter,” Officer Barny whistles and another backs up the police car to as close to the house as possible.
“Please tell me Poppy is okay,” I whisper, looking at my brother.
“You know about it?” Barny asks.
I shake my head. “Poppy is his ex, he hasn’t gotten over her. She had her first date with Brandon tonight.” I sneer at my brother, unable to see past this monster that has taken over him. “What did you do to them? Why couldn’t you just leave her alone?”
“Shut up,” he retorts, spit flying from his mouth. “You don’t know shit about anything!”
“They’re both in hospital, I’m sure they’d appreciate a friend visiting tomorrow when they’ve been treated.”
That must mean they’re okay for the most part but it hasn’t exactly stopped my stomach churning with worry.
I turn to the side and vomit, it bubbles up and unleashes before I can stop it. Mee-maw coos and rubs my back. Acting every bit the doting grandmother.
“It’s hard on her, he’s her twin,” I hear her explain. “His behavior has really gotten to her.”
I can’t speak around the powerful force of bile coming from my mouth. Snot and saliva stream from my nose and mouth. I hate this.
“I’m so sorry we had to do this on your property ma’am.”
“Not at all, Barny. I can only apologize for failing to be a good parent to him. He’s always had a demon inside of him this one has.”
“Yeah, well perfect fucking Imogen has a baby in her!” Matthew hisses as he is shoved through the doorway. “So apologize for being a shit parent to both of us. I might do drugs but at least I use a fucking condom.”
My heart shatters and for a moment the pain of his betrayal outweighs the nausea I feel for just long enough for me to gape at him.
“That’s not true,” I whisper, horrified.
“He’s high on Lord knows what, Mrs. Hardy,” Barny explains, still dragging my brother away.
Mee-maw seems too shocked to talk.
“I’m guessin’ you ain’t gonna bail the boy out?” Barny questions.
“Absolutely not until he has learned a lesson.”
“Rehab. I think at this point he needs it.”
I leave them to their conversation and get to work cleaning up the small amount of vomit I let loose on the wooden floor. It’s making me want to vomit again.
“IT BETTER NOT BE TRUE!” Mee-maw shrieks after returning and when she knows they are out of earshot. “I cannot cope with this. I cannot cope. I cannot!”
“I’m not pregnant, Mee-maw. He’s just tryna hurt you.”
She stares at me, gauging my honesty. I’m the worst liar in the world.
“Don’t do this to me child, not again. I can’t cope with this again. I don’t want to be raisin’ no more babies and I can’t let it go into care because what kind of Christian woman would that make me?”
“I’m not pregnant!”
She nods but doesn’t look convinced. “Your Grandpa will be turnin’ in his grave at all this hassle.”
“Mee-maw,” I insist, placing my hand on her arm. “He’s just saying things to get you to stress.”
“Yes, I hope so.” She looks ready to break and I don�
��t blame her.
“Shall I make you some tea?”
Shaking her head she places her hand on the console table by the door for support. “I need to lie down for a while.”
“Okay, Mee-maw. I’m going to call Poppy. I need to know that she’s okay.”
She nods again. “Thank you for cleanin’ up your own mess.” She looks so dazed as she moves away from me, every step is slow and calculated.
“Of course.” I try for a smile but it’s shaky. “What’s going to happen to Matthew now?”
“I’m going to get him the help he needs.” She wets her lips and looks away. “And Lord knows he needs it. Why me, Jesus? Why?” Her eyes follow me into the kitchen and she watches me clean out the rag and bucket I used before making herself a drink. “Please don’t be pregnant. I don’t want to raise no more babies.”
“Mee-maw, I’m not pregnant and even if I was, I wouldn’t be no deadbeat momma like mine. I’m responsible.”
“Responsibility starts with safe sex, or not having sex at all!”
She has a point. “I’m not pregnant Mee-maw.”
“You better hope not.”
I’m already hoping not. I’m hoping not so hard that it’s all I can think about.
“Shout for me if you need me,” I utter and get the hell away from her.
I try calling Poppy and her mom but I get no answer as is expected. To say I’m worried is a massive understatement. When neither of them answers on the third try, I call the only other person I want to speak to in this moment.
“Kane,” I say immediately when he answers the phone.
“What’s wrong?” He sounds so sleepy and adorable.
“My brother has been arrested, apparently he put Poppy and her date in the hospital.” I sniff unattractively. “I’m freaking out.”
“Shit, that doesn’t sound good.”
“Nope. He’s in serious trouble.”
“Need me to bail him out?”
“No, let him stay in there and rot for a night.”
He sighs heavily. “Hate to say it but that’s probably the right call. Is Poppy okay?”
“I don’t know. Cops wouldn’t tell us anything.”
“Want me to go check?”
“Would you?”
“Yeah. Not sure they’ll let me know anything but I’ll do what I can.”
Relief sinks through the heaviness of my chest. “Love you, Kane.”
“Love you too.” He doesn’t say it often but he does say it when it matters, like now when he knows I need to hear it. I hear the twang of his belt as he gets dressed. “I’ll call you soon as I hear anything.”
Thankfully Poppy is fine, Bradley fared a lot worse. He has a broken femur from where my psychotic brother stamped on his leg after sucker punching him onto his ass. Poppy took a kick to the ribs when she tried to protect Bradley but it was when she got hurt that my brother stopped. I’m just relieved he cared enough about her to stop. These days he doesn’t seem to care about anybody but himself. He’s acting like he’s the only one in pain. The violence sounds all too familiar. It reminds me of the first time I met Kane. God I hated him then.
My brother, in his hysterical and high state of mind came home, not realizing just how dire the situation was. He was so high he couldn’t even remember doing half of it apparently.
Poppy and Bradley are both pressing charges which means my brother, now home, is looking for a lawyer and is probably going to jail for assault and battery. I haven’t stopped crying about it and neither has he. For the most part he’s apologetic but he’s high again and it’s only two in the afternoon. I think he might be addicted. He’s so gaunt and twitchy.
“Do you want to go for a ride to the water tower?” I ask him, wanting to get him alone so I can at the very least try and talk some sense into him.
Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he nods and immediately grabs his jacket which was slung over the back of his chair.
We head out, making the long walk to Kane’s where I keep my bike. For the most part we don’t talk, he texts on his phone and smokes three cigarettes which is an insane amount for any journey. I don my gear and give him a spare helmet. I know West won’t mind it.
“Let me drive,” my brother demands but I pull my keys away.
“Not while you’re under the influence.”
Grumbling, he waits for me to climb on and slides on behind me. He pinches my bicep and laughs hysterically. “Don’t know how you turn this thing with your chicken arms.”
“Fuck you,” I reply, my voice muffled through the visor. “My biceps are like stone. I could lift you above my head.”
A complete lie. I’m strong but not that strong.
The engine purrs and my brother spreads out his arms when we pick up speed. I go faster and faster, overtaking cars on the long and dusty road. For a moment in time I feel like everything is normal again and my brother is normal. But then we pull over and he stumbles off my bike, pulls a baggy of pills out of his pocket and pops one on his tongue.
“Want one?” he asks, chewing the thing in his mouth.
I cringe and look away. “You really need that? Can’t we just enjoy the moment without the high?”
“Need it,” he mutters, kicking at the long grass. “Need a lot of shit to help me get through the day.”
“You need to deal with life without those. You’re hurting yourself.”
“Did you come out here just to tell me off?”
I look away, unable to witness the change in his body and the way he talks now. My brother is no longer a man but a waif and it’s terrifying to see. “We could run away,” I suggest like I used to. Because once upon a time my twin was my best friend and we faced the world together. “We could get the fuck out of here, go to Austin, get a place together. Go to college…”
“I’m going to fucking jail!”
“That’s if they find you.”
At that he laughs and shoves the baggy back into his pocket. “You’d do that for me?”
“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate with my reply and I mean it with my whole heart. I love Matthew, he’s my brother and I just want him to get better.
“I’d do it for you too but running away ain’t gonna solve this. I fucked up.”
“You’re still fucking up.” I point to his pocket where the bag of pills resides.
“They’re antacids.”
“Yeah and I’m aunt stupid,” I remark sarcastically making him laugh again. We settle, heavy and full of remorse for entirely different things. “I’m so sorry you’re not coping Matthew.”
“I’m sorry I ratted you out to Mee-maw.”
“Yeah, that was fucked up.”
“I’ll steal you a pregnancy test to make it up to you.”
Like when we were kids we head towards the main street, giggling amongst ourselves. Matthew heads into the pharmacy and I follow behind. I talk to the lady behind the counter about heartburn while Matthew peruses the sexual health section. Antacids were the first thing that came to mind after our conversation.
Unfortunately the lady is a talker and I don’t leave until five minutes after Matthew and to say I’m desperate to know what my current condition is would be an understatement.
He pats his jacket to let me know it’s in his pocket and we head to a burger joint on the corner. I hand him ten dollars to get us something to eat and I scarper into the restroom with the test in hand.
I don’t know how to use it. It looks easy on TV but I’m scared I’ll do it wrong. My heart is hammering in my chest and I don’t feel good at all. I don’t know why I wasted money on getting food because I doubt I’ll be able to eat after this.
I pee on the end of the stick after removing the cap and stuff it into my pocket. It says four minutes and I don’t have that kind of time, so I wash my hands and discard the box after burning the results section to memory. Plus means baby, minus means none. Simple and easy.
If only this situation was simple and easy.
“I don’t know, I have to wait a few minutes.”
He pushes my burger towards me as I chew on another fry. “Eat. You need to take care of your body.”
At his words I laugh, it’s genuine but also cruel and then sad because I’m watching him ruin his and there’s nothing I can do.
I reach across the table and squeeze the hand of my twin.
“I love you,” I say to him. “Whatever happens.”
“I love you too.”
At that I smile and peek at the test in my pocket and a whoosh of air leaves my body.
“What is it?” he asks as my face stretches with a blinding smile that aches my cheeks and jaw.
“I’m not pregnant.”
“You sure?”
I nod and show him the stick, using a menu to shield it from the prying eyes of others. “No plus sign. I’m not pregnant. I must just have a bug.”
“There’s a lot going around right now.”
I take a big bite of my burger and wipe away the grease that rolls down my chin. I’ve never felt so relieved in my entire life. I’m not pregnant and I don’t have to worry about a thing.
To celebrate, I of course surprise Kane at work and throw myself at his grease covered body. I mash my lips to his, shove my tongue into his mouth and grab his hair so he can’t move.
His coworker wolf-whistles and cheers us on, which is gross because he’s like forty, but I suppose it’s what they do at work. It’s all good fun.
“Well hello to you too,” Kane whispers when I pull back breathlessly and stare into his eyes. “Didn’t think I’d see you until later.”
I kiss him again, unable to help myself, crushing my lips so painfully against his.
“I’m sorry I said that you’re ruining my life, Kane Jessop.”
He frowns, confused.
“You’re the only thing I have these days that brings me any kind of happy feelin’,” I admit, still clinging to him.
His eyes, his smile, his body soften all for me and he looks at me in that expressive way that he only looks at me.
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