Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
I couldn’t look away from my dad’s mutilated body. I took a step back. Then another. A hand touched my shoulder and I let out a scream. That hand quickly went to my mouth to try and silence me.
“It’s me.” It was Shayla. I whirled around to face her. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and fear had seeded deep within her eyes. “We need to leave. He’s in the house,” she whispered.
I didn’t need her to tell me who “he” was. I nodded frantically. Holding hands, we took a step to leave. A crash came from the other side of the house, followed by our mom’s scream that sent a trembling wave of fear through every bone in my body. The sound of running on the hardwood floor echoed through the house next. The running sounded closer and closer. Shayla pushed me back, further into the living room, and pulled me to the floor behind the couch our dad’s corpse was lying on.
It was a second later when panting breaths and my mom’s pain-filled yell sounded in the room. Shayla squeezed my hand as we listened to wrestling. The lamp was knocked over, but it didn’t break. My mom cried out before a thud vibrated through the floor.
I knew I shouldn’t have looked but I couldn’t stop myself. I peeked around the side of the couch. My mom was on the ground, crying as she stared up at Mr. X, who was straddling her. He had her pinned with a large, bloody knife at her throat. A gasp escaped me. It hadn’t been loud, but it caught my mom’s attention. Our eyes met for only a moment before she forced herself to look back at Mr. X. In that brief moment her emotions switched rapidly. First there was surprise to see me, then worry. Both had been shadowed with terror.
“Where is she?” he growled.
My mom’s expression hardened, as if determined.
“Where is she?!” Mr. X shouted in her face.
“Go to hell!” she wailed as she thrashed at him.
Mr. X lifted the knife from her neck, rose it high above his head, and brought it down. My mom’s breath hitched, eyes wide as the knife plunged into her chest. Mr. X withdrew the knife and brought it down again, stabbing her over and over.
“Shi.”
I opened tear-flooded eyes to a blurry shadow in the shape of a man holding me in their arms. Panic seized my heart. “No!” I cried out and pushed at their chest to get away. He let go and I scrambled to my knees.
His hand locked around my arm. “Shi, it’s me,” he said at the same time the light flicked on, revealing Creed kneeling in front of me.
My fear-induced adrenaline began to fade as I glanced around. Colt was standing next to the bed with sleep-tousled hair. I looked back at Creed. The movement of my eyes caused more tears to fall down my drenched cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my gaze dropping. This would be it. I knew it. This would be what scared them away. I had too many issues—too much trauma that I was failing to deal with. Who would want to put up with that? I covered my face with my hands as sobs rattled through my body. I was beginning to hunch over, wanting to cave into myself, and my forehead met a chest.
Creed wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not.”
Creed’s hands moved to my wrists and pulled my hands away from my face. “Hey,” he said, trying to get me to look at him. I couldn’t. I was afraid of what I’d see. His fingers curled under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. I met his beautiful aquamarine eyes. Concern was etched around them. “Talk to me,” he pleaded.
“I’m a fucking mess,” I forced out with a wobbly voice. “I’m waiting for you to realize it and walk away.”
Creed’s eyes went wide. “You just said ‘fucking.’”
The bed dipped behind me. “What are you talking about, babe?” Colt asked, putting his hand on my back.
“I’m still dealing with the loss of my family. I have moments or days where I can’t hold myself together. Yesterday is a perfect example of that. It’s not fair to either of you to be burdened with this—with me.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to find the strength to say what I needed to next. I opened my eyes again with a little determination and a whole lot of heartache. “You two should go.” They both looked stricken. “If you don’t go now, I’ll grow more attached.”
Neither of them moved.
“Please!” I cried. “I’m more trouble than I’m worth. I cry more than I smile. I have nightmares?—”
Creed grabbed my face with both hands and slammed his lips onto mine. At first, I was so taken aback that I was frozen like a statue. Creed pulled back a little to look me in the eye. “I’m already attached,” he said before returning his lips to mine.
My body slowly softened, and I kissed him back. Creed wasn’t gentle. His lips demanded everything I could give and when his tongue slipped past my lips to taste mine, he groaned, pushing me backward. My back collided with a chest.
I broke our kiss as Colt’s hands went to my hips. I froze again, unsure what to do. I had kissed him last night and had just kissed Creed right in front of him.
Creed’s gaze met his brother’s over my head. He shrugged. “She was freaking out. I panicked.”
Colt sighed behind me. “Did you not think for a moment that kissing her might freak her out more?”
“Why?” Creed smirked. “Because you kissed her last night?”
I desperately wanted to curse again.
“Yes, because I kissed her last night,” Colt snapped. “She’s not ready?—”
“Oh-my-lanta, please don’t fight,” I begged. “I’m sorry. We won’t kiss ever again. We should chalk up all the kissing to curiosity amongst friends. Or better yet, how about we forget any kissing happened at all?”
They both frowned at me. “Why?” they asked at the same time.
Frustrated, I rubbed my cheeks dry. “You know why. There’s two of you and one of me. You’re going to make me choose and I refuse to do that.”
Creed opened his mouth to say something, but Colt spoke before him. “We’ll circle back to the kissing situation at a later time. Right now, we need to talk about you pushing us away.”
Tired of standing on my knees, I plopped down on my butt. “Like I said, I’m a mess.”
I desperately wanted to move on with my life. It was why I’d been so happy when Colt and Creed had come into my life. I hadn’t thought that becoming closer with others would grant them the ability to see things about me I’d thought no one would ever see. I had been naive to think I could hide it.
“Everyone is a mess. Some are just better at hiding it than others,” Creed said.
I shook my head. “You’re both perfect.”
They both scoffed and shook their heads.
“I promise, babe, we’re not,” Colt said.
I gave them a doubtful look.
Creed sighed and sat next to me. “I hate being on the swim team. Actually, no, I hate competing. Our dad died the first time we competed at state during our freshman year.” As he spoke, he got this sad, faraway look. “It’s a high achievement to make it to state,” he continued. “I remember looking out at the stands, feeling angry that he wasn’t there to support us. He’d never missed a competition and it pissed me off that he was missing what I thought would be the most important competition in my life. We both came home with medals around our necks to find out that he’d been on his way to see us compete, but never made it. Someone had sped through a red light and T-boned him. His car had been reduced to a crushed tin can and he’d died instantly.”
I took his hand, then Colt’s and gave them a little squeeze.
“I’ve hated competing ever since,” Creed continued. “I do it because it’s what he would have wanted, and it will help me get into college and all that bullshit. But…whenever we’re at practice and Coach is yelling at us to do better, I just want to scream that I don’t care. I don’t care if I win or I lose. My life isn’t ‘live and breathe swim’ anymore.”
“What do you live and breathe for now?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t found it yet.”
“We still have bad days and we’re still dealing with his loss,” Colt said, sullen. “We were kind of young when our mother died, but Keelan and Knox weren’t. They took her death really hard and losing our dad…” Colt trailed off, looking away with pain in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say is that the four of us know what it’s like to struggle in the trenches of our grief. It’s how we know that’s what you’re going through now.”
“And why would you want to deal with that?” I asked. “Most people would walk away.”
Colt frowned. “Would you walk away from us?”
No. I wouldn’t.
Colt had made a point. I wanted to be reassured, but without knowing the full extent of my trauma, they didn’t truly understand what they were getting into with me. That thought made me sick to my stomach.
They didn’t want to leave, and even though I knew things between us would eventually end, I couldn’t bring myself to be the one to walk away. That left me with one choice. I was going to cherish every moment I had with them, for however long our friendship lasted.
I looked at Creed. He had shared something that I knew must have been hard for him to share. I owed it to him to share something. “I was dreaming about my mom. That night…” I paused, thinking over my next words carefully. “I had to watch her—” I looked toward the ceiling to keep more tears from falling. “I had to watch her die, unable to do anything.”
I saw the question they were getting ready to ask. It was written all over their faces.
“Please don’t ask me how. I can’t. I just…can’t,” I begged, and they kept quiet, waiting for me to continue on. “I was reliving that moment in my dream and it felt so real. It always does when I dream about that night. The smells. The sounds. What I felt in that moment, only it’s a thousand times worse because I already know what’s going to happen and I’m helpless to stop it.” A few tears escaped my eyes and I quickly wiped them away. “She was so scared.” My voice broke and I took a minute to regain my composure. I couldn’t tell them any more. I’d probably already said too much. Thankfully, they didn’t push for more.
“What time is it?” I asked them.
Colt reached over to my nightstand where his phone was. “It’s just after six.”
“We don’t have to go into work until nine,” Creed said.
Colt looked to me. “Why don’t we try to get a few more hours of sleep?”
I was itching for a run. I needed to escape the anguish that weighed heavily on my heart. However, running wasn’t an option. My legs were still sore.
“You’re not going running, babe. I can see you thinking about it,” Colt said. “Don’t do that to yourself. It’d do your body good if you got some more rest.”
I nodded “I know.”
We crawled back under the covers, with me lying between them. Creed pulled me close until my head was resting on his chest and Colt curled up behind me, with his arm around my waist. Being sandwiched between them wasn’t an escape, but I felt my sorrow and fear slowly seep away. Being held by them was better than an escape. It was relief, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it was a little easier to breathe.