51. Forty Eight
Forty Eight
Creed
Ever since our spat, Cecil and I have hardly spoken to one another.
There was no follow up conversation to clear the air, no apology, nothing.
We’re both stubborn to a fault, neither willing to broach the subject and make amends.
Even when he informed Eden and I of the fast approaching battle, the conversation was cut and dry.
My mind was filled to the brim with questions, but I settled for a shrug and an assent.
And Cecil being Cecil, he offered no further information.
God, what an asshole.
I’ll admit that the convoluted relationship he has with Eden bothers me. But, despite what he thinks, it’s not stemming from jealousy.
I’m concerned. For both of them.
Although my interactions with people have been limited, I can safely say that my brother is the most emotionally unavailable person within a two hundred mile radius. The guy exudes apathy at every turn. And he’s making a move on Eden? The girl who is the epitome of vulnerability?
Yeah. It’s not going to end well for either of them. And when Eden inevitably gets her heart shattered, I’m going to have to choose a side. Excuse me for not wanting to get in the middle of that train wreck.
However, I would choose Eden over him. Obviously.
My train of thought has completely derailed, and beneath the suds of sink water, I crack a glass with my too-vigorous scrubbing.
And to make matters worse, the muse of my suffering marches into the kitchen and stomps until he garners my attention.
Just to be a bastard, I pretend I don’t notice him for a solid thirty seconds.
“Are you ready?”
“We trained this morning.” Soapy bubbles fling from the tips of my fingers as I sign. One lands on his cheek and I have to bite back my petty grin.
“Good memory,” he snarks, swiping at his face. “We’re a week out and you need all the help you can get.”
“I’m cleaning,” I try.
“Finish it later. Come.”
He’s out the door before I can refuse.
Bending at the waist, I place my palms on my knees and suck in lungfuls of air. My hair has grown out enough to cling in sweaty ringlets along the nape of my neck, and I wipe at them in annoyance.
For an hour, we’ve been working on my self defense, grueling conditions be damned. If it weren’t for the impending fight, I’d think he’s looking for an excuse to throw me around.
The sun is persistent, beating down on us from high in the sky.
Air as dry as the Earth, the drought has taken its toll.
The world appears bleached, everything washed out in a pale hue.
The flesh on my arms and cheeks are tender; the promise of a sunburn.
Cecil steps around me and I have to scowl into the sunlight to make out his face.
He’s just as sweaty as I am, but his breaths are even and slow through his nose.
“Again. This time, try to knock me off my feet.”
My mouth tastes bitter and my saliva is thick, so I spit a wad at his feet.
“I need a break.”
Cecil shakes his head. “We’re almost finished.”
“I need water.”
“After we’re done.”
“No.” I push to my full height and take a step towards the house. Cecil is quick to side step, blocking my path.
“Can you stop being so stubborn for once in your life?”
I can’t help the snort that escapes. He angles his head, eyes narrow in a challenge.
“That’s funny, coming from you,” I sign back, an unfriendly smile on my face.
He rolls his eyes, and my skin prickles with irritation.
“Eden doesn’t complain this much.” He’s goading me, and I know it. But I dive right off the deep end of my pent up anger and land in the pool of confrontation.
Fuck it.
“That’s because you have her wrapped around your finger,” I accuse.
Cecil looks to the sky, pinching the bridge of his nose. His lips move as he mutters to himself, then he fixes me with an incredulous look.
“Really? That’s what you’re worried about?”
My nostrils flare. “Worried about my friend? Yes,” I respond with an emphatic nod.
A breeze carries through the tall weeds, cooling the damp skin on my face. I glance at the house and hope Eden isn’t peering through any of the windows.
“You honestly think that above everything else, I am the biggest threat to her?”
“Of course not.”
“Then let it go.”
“Someone has to protect her.”
“Oh?” Cecil laughs. “Is that person you?”
“Yes. You’ve done a shit job at it.”
“Have I?” He feigns hurt, lower lip prodding. “That’s interesting, considering you can’t hit a target, and you can’t throw a punch. But you’re right. You’re a real hero—”
No time to think of consequences, I charge my brother and knock him to the ground.
The impact knocks the wind from my lungs, but it hardly phases me.
Climbing on top of him while I’ve still got the upper hand, I pull a fist back, but he’s much faster than me.
Legs swinging, he gathers enough momentum to roll us over until he’s above me.
One swift punch is delivered to my mouth.
The sunlight fractures into fireworks behind my eyes. The pain takes me by surprise. A dull ache rattles through my skull, and the tang of blood caresses my tongue.
The hit stuns me enough that I don’t fight back. Eyes wide, I look up at my brother. His arm is cocked back like he might hit me again, but his own brows raise in shock of what he’s done.
I surprise myself when I let loose a bark of laughter.
Lips stretched over bloody teeth, my smile only grows the more alarmed my brother appears. Warmth trickles from the corner of my mouth, and I’m vaguely aware of how deranged I must look.
Expression twisted in concern, he scrambles off of me, plopping onto the dry patch of dirt. A dust cloud rises around him.
“You’re bleeding,” he informs me, eyes darting between my face and his own hand. One of his knuckles is split, crimson seeping from the crack.
I laugh again, pushing myself into a sitting position. Of course I’m bleeding, I can taste it. This time when I spit, I aim it away from him. Red swirls atop the parched Earth.
He eyes me cautiously as I gather my bearings. With the back of my wrist, I wipe at my mouth.
“I haven’t been hit like that since I was a kid,” I inform him. Amusement still twinkling in my eyes, I glance at my brother. His face is made of stone, his shoulders rigid.
“I’m sorry.”
The apology is so sincere, so full of regret, that it steals all the wind from my sails. My grin falters. “I’m fine.”
“No. I’m sorry for… the other times.” His eyes bore into mine. I raise a shoulder in nonchalance.
“That wasn’t you.”
“I didn’t stop him.”
“You did.”
“Not soon enough.”
I break eye contact, unable to stomach the pain staring back at me. The conversation has shifted so quickly that I struggle to get a grip on what emotion I should be feeling.
Over the years, we’ve had a handful of conversations about our father; none of which included his ever growing temper or violent tendencies. It was a skeleton in the closet—something too ugly to speak of.
Cecil got me out, and that’s what matters.
My anger from mere minutes ago fizzles out, leaving me with a pit in my stomach and a sadness in my bones.
“I don’t want to be like him,” Cecil admits, eyes to the horizon. The light floods his iris, the deep green blooming into a vibrant emerald. So similar to our father, but mine are just the same.
I let out a hmph, smacking his shoulder. “You’re not.”
He shoots me a look of disbelief before reaching over and swiping at my chin. When he pulls his thumb back, it’s stained red. My eyes loll to the side.
Side by side, we float along our respective thoughts.
The heat is intense, but dry, vanishing sweat from my skin now that I’m still.
A pebble sits beside my knee and I take it between my fingers.
Eyes unfocused, I swirl it along the dirt.
Over and over, I etch rolling waves into the ground.
My memory takes me back to that day at the beach.
The lengths my brother had gone to ensure that I enjoyed my birthday.
He’s not selfish. Not really.
I turn my attention to him briefly, studying the hunch of his shoulders. The way he nibbles his cheek. The nervous shifting of his eyes. I’ve seen that same look since we were children, but less so as he aged.
More and more over the past few months, there’s a vulnerability to my brother that I thought was long forgotten.
Clarity comes like a splash of icy water, and I bump my shoulder into his. “You love her, don’t you?”
His head falls forward and he doesn’t meet my gaze. I dip my chin in an attempt to meet his eyes.
“Don’t you?”
When my brother looks at me, I swear tears float around the edges of his eyes. One blink and they’re gone.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Why? Because of her Gift?”
“No,” he replies hastily. “No. That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know if I’m…” His eyes shift around nervously. His lips move on a curse. “Capable.”
I click my tongue, waving my hand dismissively. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
He shoots me a glare that would’ve scared me had his fist still been cocked back and ready to smash my lips into my teeth. But I have the upper hand now. Emotional leverage, if you will.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not cut out for that shit.”
Nodding, I hum pensively. He’s not entirely wrong. But love is integral to the soul. It’s not a choice, or something one can wish away.
It’s the lifeblood of mankind.
“You love me, right?” My question has his lip curling like I asked if he would eat human flesh. If the idea of loving is that heinous, maybe he’s right.
“Of course I do. You’re my brother.”
Bending my knees, I rest my forearms atop them and consider my next words carefully. The moment is so delicate, I’m worried I’ll crush it with carelessness.
“I think,” I begin, faltering when he shoots me a look. Mustering up my courage, I throw caution to the wind. If he’s angry with me, so be it. “I think you’re afraid to care for anyone but me.”
Expecting an eye roll, or a scathing remark, I’m stunned when Cecil simply looks at me. His eyes scan my face, searching for something I’m unsure of.
With the next breeze, I raise my face to the sky and breathe in deeply.
The scent of dirt, honeysuckles, and the distant pond fill my nose.
The more time we spend here, the more I come to love it.
I know we won’t stay, no matter what happens, because of Eden’s history.
But as a child, I would’ve loved nothing more than to grow up in a place like this.
It’s clear that some prisons are just larger than others.
“I am.” The admission has me whipping my head back towards him. I barely catch it in my peripheral. He continues.
“I’ve spent my entire life trying to protect you. It’s hard to give any of my… myself,” He deliberately avoids the word ‘love’. “To anyone but you.”
Sadness tightens my heart in a melancholy fist.
“If I were you, I would feel guilty for not.”
Like a sundrenched angel, Eden emerges around the side of the house. Dressed in a pale blue dress, she makes her way toward us, wariness slowing her steps. Her hair whips around her face, and she raises her hand to shade her eyes.
“Everything okay?” She asks, still a ways away. Cecil hops to his feet before I can respond. Eden’s eyes follow him as he heads to the house, and from the line between her brows, I can tell she wants to go after him. But she won’t.
Once standing, I smack at the seat of my jeans to rid it of the pale dirt. With only a few feet between us, she zeroes in on my mouth. The worry makes a hasty exit, and her eyes blaze with fury.
I can’t help but smirk.
“What happened?” Her hands fly out, grasping my face, twisting it this way and that. I allow her to inspect me, and when I can’t help but chuckle, she raises a brow.
Taking her wrists, I pull her forward and press a kiss to her forehead. The sting is intense, but it was worth it for the way she jumps back and swipes at her face. There’s no print of blood, but she doesn’t know that.
“Disgusting!” She smacks my chest. “I can’t stand you, did you know that?”
“I love you,” I retort. “Did you know that?”
Her face instantly falls, eyes softening. “Of course I do.”
“Good.” Lacing my fingers through hers, we walk to the house.