Chapter 32
— Remmy —
Bastian glanced down at my pedicure as I stretched along two-thirds of the couch, then he shoved another handful of popcorn into his mouth. And I mean shoved , then chewed obnoxiously. The incessant crunching and the rustling of his fingers gathering his next mouthful wore on every frayed nerve in my body.
“Bastian!” I yelled without warning, making him flinch. “No wonder you don’t have a fucking girlfriend!”
He gawked incredulously with his mouth wide and finally ignoring the movie. “What?”
“Enough with the—” I mimicked the scrunching and crunching with hand movements and exaggerated noises. “It’s fucking annoying!”
Confusion flickered across his brows, and he raised the bowl. “Want some? You fucking psychopath.”
His dark hazel eyes flared a second before my foot connected with the bowl, kicking it from his hands. Freshly popped little buttery clouds showered over him and the living room carpet beyond his end of the couch.
We both froze for a second, mouths open and eyes wide, before Bastian sassed, “ Great . Now I have to eat floor popcorn. And you’re now my least favorite sister,” he added with a point.
“I’m your only sister.”
“Thank God. I couldn’t handle two of you. Not when you’re this bitchy.” He snatched up the empty bowl off the floor in front of him, then dropped to his tattooed knees. “It’s fucking everywhere, Remmy! And it’s not fucking funny!” he added when I let out a throaty snicker.
I was being a bitch, and I knew it. At least he wasn’t annoying the hell out of me with his eating now.
“Want a hand?”
Bass’ dark eyebrows and narrowed glare rose above the far end of the couch. “No.”
I snorted, then reached for the remote.
“Don’t turn the movie off. I’m still watching it!” he exclaimed.
“Calm your tits, I’m pausing it.”
Inaudible mutterings came from out of sight before my brother stood. “Fuck it. I’m making another batch.” He stabbed a forefinger at me again. “And if you kick this one out of my hands, I’ll dump your ass at your apartment and leave you to the wolves.”
I studied his retreating back. In this instance, I wasn’t game enough to call his bluff—Bastian had always followed through on threats, no matter how far-fetched they seemed. God knew it was how he got my ass into rehab.
While he made another batch of popcorn after slamming the microwave door shut, I returned my attention to Scout. He’d messaged me a while ago, and I’d spent every minute since agonizing over my reply.
My thumbs flicked back and forth while contemplating my reply to his basic Heading to Minneapolis now. Did you get home okay?
Eventually, I settled for something equally as casual.
Me: I did. Having to stay at Bastian’s though. How’d the travel go?
The messaging dots bounced briefly.
Ace: It was fine.
Ace: How are you doing?
Chewing on my lower lip didn’t help conjure a reply. Instead, while contemplating how bluntly to put the truth, I went to use the bathroom.
Bass was back on the couch when I returned, cradling the bowl of fresh popcorn with both hands and glaring as I passed in front of him.
I scoffed and plonked down beside him. “You can stop clutching your popcorn, Gollum.”
“My precious,” he breathed, circling his hand through the buttery clouds. “Want some?”
My top lip curled. “You just touched every single piece with your yucky boy hands—no thanks.”
“Your loss,” he mumbled, then thumbed at my phone. “By the way, I replied to Scout on your behalf. Put the guy out of his damn misery.”
“You didn’t,” I breathed out, picking it up with two hands while praying he was messing with me.
Bass tossed in more popcorn and chewed around his grin. “Totally did. And you’re welcome.”
“Bastian!” I growled. My jaw dropped further with each word I read.
Me (thanks to my soon to be deceased brother): Like a pile of shit. I’m a bitch—worse than shark week—temporarily homeless again and taking out my frustrations on Bass’ innocent popcorn.
“You didn’t,” I whispered. My eyes cut up to Bastian and began to prickle. “I hadn’t told him that.” I couldn’t believe Bass had so casually mentioned such a dark part of my past.
His eyes flared and remorse pulled his expression tight. “Fuck.”
“Yeah fuck.”
“Well…” came his shaky, and carefully picked, reply. “…I guess that’s one way to unleash all the skeletons from your closet in one day. Does he also know about the drugs?”
“No.” I snapped. “He doesn’t.”
Bass’ eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that something you should tell him? Like, soon?”
My fists and jaw tightened simultaneously. “Stop meddling, Bastian.”
He held up his palms. “Hey, all I’m saying is that it’s going to be extra shit if he finds out via the media instead of directly from you.”
I shook my head. Denial. It ran rampant.
Surely it wouldn’t be linked to me… Then again, no one knew about my FootFet account until Bren let it slip in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Bastian held my gaze as a silent war waged inside me. I only shifted my focus when a new message arrived.
Ace: That’s a lot to unpack. Can we start with the homelessness, then discuss the real issue—the popcorn?
Despite him trying to put me at ease, my stomach clamped. May as well be all in with the conversation.
Me: And the bleeding?
Ace: No need—I’ve borne witness to that before.
I scoffed, thinking back to when he’d looked at me as if I’d grown two heads when I’d refused to take painkillers for cramps. That was a conversation I hadn’t wanted to tackle then, or now.
On a sigh that deflated my entire body, I ignored Bass’ worried glance and focused on my message to Scout.
Me: I was homeless for a short while a few years ago. The circumstances surrounding that are something I won’t discuss over messages.
Me: As for the popcorn, Bastian was being an asshole so I kicked the bowl from his hands.
The little dots on the screen stopped bouncing momentarily after I sent the second message, then resumed their merry little dance.
I’d almost gnawed a hole in my cheek by the time his reply came through.
Ace: I’m glad you got through that tough time. I’d like to hear your story. As for the popcorn, I can’t believe you’d be so callous. Don’t fuck with another man’s popcorn, honey.
Me: Apparently not. It makes them bitchy as fuck.
I snickered under my breath, then slammed the phone onto my chest when Bass tried to read the message.
“You’ve pried enough,” I snapped.
He simply shrugged. “Well, you’re not cursing or scowling at me now, so I wanted to see how he reacted.”
“Like this…” I brandished my middle finger.
Bastian threw his head back and laughed. “That must have been aimed at you, Rems, because, just quietly, you’re a lot.”
Huffing despite a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth, I flipped him off again. “No one got anywhere in life by being demure, brother.”
A snort left his nose as he chucked another handful of fresh popcorn into his gob. “Least of all you, sis.” He eyed me for a second before dashing his chin at my phone. “What state are your socials in?”
“Gah.” I threw my head back onto the couch cushion. “I’m too terrified to look, but I’ve got a ton of notifications.”
He held out his hand, sincerity showing on his face. “Want me to vet them?”
“Like—”
“Read your messages and shit. Chances are you’ve got some hate mail in there, and I’d rather read it than you.”
I gulped. I hadn’t considered getting hate mail . I knew people would have their opinions, but I didn’t deserve hate because of it. I hadn’t been able to face opening my social media yet despite knowing I should shut it all down, at least for the time being.
I hedged, gripping my phone a little harder while studying Bass.
He kept his palm offered but relaxed. “I promise I won’t be a dick about it,” he added quietly.
I trusted Bass with my life, so I nodded while slowly placing my phone in his upturned hand. “If Scout texts back, don’t read it.”
“I won’t.”
Curious, I leaned into him as he started scrolling through my Insta messages, until he pushed me away with a large palm to my face.
“It defeats the purpose of me checking them if you’re going to read them anyway,” he mumbled without looking up from the screen.
As his fingers continued to slowly scroll, his face darkened. I swear his eyebrows couldn’t get any lower, and it made my stomach burn with worry.
“Bitch!” he spat. “She’s blocked.”
I gnawed my lower lip. “That bad?”
His eyes briefly flicked up to mine. “Vile.”
He shook his head as he read another message, then muttered, “Cunt,” as he blocked another profile.
The muttered curses and hissed derogatory names continued for the next five minutes while he read through all the messages I’d received, blocking and deleting as he went.
“Are there actually that many?” I asked, giving my lip a brief reprieve from my teeth. It was getting sore.
Anger lit his eyes when he glanced up again. “Cowards hiding behind their keyboards are the worst kind of people. This—” he lifted my phone “—is evidence of that. They don’t even know you.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “Exactly why I don’t care what they say about me.”
Despite my confidence, Bass shook his head. “You say that now, but I’m only halfway through.”
My mouth opened in shock. “Only halfway?”
His lips pressed into a firm line. “Yeah, Rems.”
“What kind of things are they saying?”
The muscles ticked in his jaw. “It’s ranging from the ol’ You need Jesus to the generic name calling—whore, bitch, et cetera, et cetera.”
“And what about the others earlier, when you got mad?” I asked.
“Those aren’t worth repeating,” he stated, protecting me.
Another five minutes passed before he chucked another handful of popcorn in his mouth while offering back my phone.
“All clear,” he said around his mouthful. “Don’t open it tonight. I’ll screen them again in the morning. By the way, you’ve got unread messages from Bren and Steph.”
“I know. I’ve been putting off replying for the moment. Tomorrow though…”
He hummed. “Fair enough. Also, Scout messaged seven minutes ago. He’ll be thinking you’re ignoring him too.”
My heart dropped into the storm of butterflies combusting in my stomach. I tried for casual, but my voice came out breathless as I said a quiet “Thanks,” to my brother.
Ace: Tomorrow is going to be tough, honey. Not so much for me, but… I’m worried about you. It’s going to take a while to die down. In the meantime, do me a favor, avoid socials and reading the bullshit in the media. People who don’t know the full story or don’t know who you truly are—a kind, fierce, and beautiful woman inside and out—are the ones that want their words to cut and wound. Ignoring them takes their power. Hold onto that with everything you’ve got, sweetheart.
Tears stung my eyes. I didn’t deserve his sweetness. I knew it was only a matter of time before I ruined Scout’s reputation, and I couldn’t believe he was still sticking around. Still defending me and supporting me through another of my clusterfucks.
Swallowing failed to rid the lump wedged deep in my throat, so I stood. “I, umm, I might have a shower and head to bed.”
Bass gave me an odd look. “You okay?”
I forced a shaky smile. “Just tired.”
He dug for another handful of popcorn. “Okay. See you in the morning, sis.”
I glanced back when I reached the hallway, and goddammit my heart panged. Bass looked so relaxed leaning back into the couch, knees spread wide, slamming back popcorn as if nothing was wrong.
“Oh, and Remmy,” he called without tearing his eyes off the movie.
I turned a little further. “Yeah?”
“If you use all the hot water, I’m going to be pissed.”
At least he put a small smile on my face as I trudged to his spare room.