Casey
FOUR YEARS LATER
S weat beads at my temples, but I feel like I’m freezing. My nose tingles, and my lips are numb, but it’s not because of the sharp nails digging into my face. I see the owner’s lips moving, but I can’t hear anything she says. I can’t even see her through my blurred vision.
My heart pulses in my ears, thumping so loud I wonder if everyone can hear it. I focus on those beats, counting them, trying to breathe through my panic.
It feels like every pair of eyes is on us, watching as my mother calls me a traitorous, wretched bitch. Blaming me for everything she hates about herself. Telling me my presence here is a betrayal of all her sacrifices.
Even though the anxiety has stolen my sight and hearing, every word burrows deeper. The venomous poison burns through my veins, making its home in my marrow. Each jab is another dagger to my heart, cutting away at my psyche, tearing chunks of my flesh until all that is left is a walking, talking corpse.
“, are you okay?” The sound of my best friend’s voice cuts through the chaos of my mind. My head bobs more from instinct—a learned habit developed from years of hiding the truth. She says something else, but my dad’s name is all I understand.
He can’t see me like this. If he does, he will know something is wrong, and I’m not sure there is a way to protect him from the truth when it’s right in front of him. He doesn’t know about how my mother treats me, and I never want him to find out. My suffering isn’t his fault nor his burden to bear. Not when he’s suffered himself.
Afraid he’ll appear at any moment, I spin on my heels and, like a coward, run, leaving my best friend to handle my mother.
The crowd around me is a blur of nameless faces as I push my way through. I hear their whispers as I bump into them, muttering incoherent apologies.
My body is rocked back, my feet coming out from under me as my legs crumple when I slam into a wall. Reflexes takes control, shooting my hands out to break my fall, but somehow, gravity doesn’t win.
“Whoa, Sunflower.”
Sunflower.
His deep voice rockets through my body, skittering across my flesh, creating chills. Only one man calls me that. It would be the cherry to this catastrophe.
He’s the last person I expected to see. The last I wanted to see. So, of course, he appears like magic to witness my latest meltdown after being absent from my life for years.
I force my eyes to focus, and his dark hair and darker eyes become clear. As always, he’s dressed impeccably, wearing a dark gray suit that clings to his broad shoulders and thick arms, undoubtedly custom-made for his impressive six-foot-four frame, paired with a deep blue shirt with the top two buttons left undone. In heels, I still need to lift my eyes a bit to meet his despite being five-foot-ten, and I see the concern in the dark depths.
A rough thumb brushes across my fiery flesh, catching the lone tear that escaped without permission. “Why are you crying?” Heat slashes across my cheeks and burns the tips of my ears.
Why do you only ever appear when I am crying?
My head swishes back and forth, denying the truth, my blond waves falling into my face. “Allergies.”
His razor-sharp jaw flexes, not believing the lie that spills so easily. Near obsidian orbs jerk behind me. They narrow, turning impossibly darker, and a muscle in his cheek twitches, no doubt recognizing the cause. He’s the only one who knows even a fraction of the truth.
He starts forward, and my hand shoots out, landing on his chest as I shake my head. “Don’t.” I plead, begging him not to escalate the already horrifying scene.
His nostrils flare. I hear his teeth grind, but when he looks at me, I see his reluctant surrender. “Come on.”
It’s been two years since I last saw my oldest stepbrother, though it’s been even longer since we had an actual conversation that didn’t involve embarrassment, lectures, and yelling. I complicated things when I acted on impulse. We were once close, even if we only saw each other a few times a month, but it came to a screeching halt when I put him in a very awkward position.
I thought the distance cured me of my unrequited feelings, but a familiar flip of my stomach says maybe not. Hopefully, it’s just the stress of the situation.
“Okay,” I whisper, and he squeezes me tighter to his side as if I’m a fragile child.
To him, that’s what I am.
When he turns me toward the elevators, I freeze, digging my nails into his arm. He meets my eyes, brows furrowing deep between them. I flick my eyes toward Dad and my Uncle Henry who just stepped out of the doors. If we continue this way, we will cross paths with them, and that can’t happen.
A choked sound of aggravation rumbles as he glares at me before lifting his head. He chews the inside of his cheek while his dark eyes scan the rooftop. Chin dropping toward me, his decision made, he wraps his fingers around my wrist and tugs me to a vacant corner. When we are as far away from nosy eyes and ears as the crowded rooftop allows, I’m pulled in front of him. His rough palms cup my cheeks, and he searches my face with his mouth set in a firm line. Sharp eyes glow with anger. It grows by the second at whatever he sees in my expression.
I break the agonizing silence first, desperate to have him stop looking at me like I’m a kicked puppy. “Thank you for helping me, but I should get back to my…” I trail off, not wanting to say date, but I’m not sure why. Maybe I just don’t want to endure a repeat of his overbearing big brother side.
I’ve only had one boyfriend. Neither ended well, and I don’t date often. I can count on two hands the number of dates I’ve been on since I started college. And if I’m honest, tonight doesn’t count as one of those since it’s with my best friend, Lily’s, cohort in deceitful deeds, Thad. Nothing could or would ever come of it. Thad is a walking, talking billboard for contraception and STI awareness—a man whore of epic proportions. He’s a good guy beyond that, but I know he only asked me tonight because Lily expressly forbade it. I think he likes to annoy my dad, too. Beyond getting under their skin, he has no interest in me. He prefers girls with curves and confidence. Not the anxiety-ridden, self-conscious, skinny, lanky type. Then he decided I’m not the type of girl you fuck and duck. His words, not mine, but he’s not wrong.
And knowing all this, I accepted his invitation because I didn’t want to come alone and look more pathetic than I already do.
“Back to your?” Graham’s dark, arched brow lifts, waiting for me to finish. When I don’t, the vein in his forehead pulses. “You better not say your mom. Jesus, , how is this still going on? Why haven’t you told your dad?”
You know why.
Fire erupts across my cheeks. Embarrassment takes over once again as I remember he is privy to some of my most humiliating moments. He witnessed the ridicule I endured more than once. That’s why, at one time, I confided in him about my mother as much as I could. It barely scratched the surface, but it was more than anyone else would ever know. He listened to my every word even though it infuriated him. Then when I asked him to keep my secrets, he would get angrier. More often than not, I had to beg and plead for him to keep quiet—too much was at risk. And he never said a word to anyone.
He was the knight in my fantasies because he listened to me when I couldn’t tell anyone else.
I take a step back from him, needing the space to think clearly. Needing away from the security my memories insist he provides. He might’ve once felt like my hero, but I broke that bond by being foolish and reckless. My heart doesn’t need to trip and stumble back into old habits, and he doesn’t need me making his life difficult.
“I can’t stop her when she corners me.” My arms cross over my chest, a weak attempt to appear strong, though I can feel my bottom lip quiver.
“You could walk away,” he growls, keeping his voice low, but his disapproval blasts with his tone and eyes.
“I tried,” I whisper. “But she wouldn’t let me go. If I’d fought her, she would’ve been worse. I didn’t want to cause a bigger scene.” I chew my cheek, fighting back the burn of tears as I look toward my dad. “And he can’t find out. He’ll blame himself. He couldn’t have done anything then, and he can’t do anything now.”
“Then who…”
He gets cut off, his eyes narrowing, when a heavy arm wraps around my shoulder and hot bourbon breath fans my face. “There’s my girl.” His lips press against my temple, and I sink into his side, finally feeling a sense of comfort. “Big brother giving you a hard time?” His words slur a bit, a clear sign he’s had more than a few drinks.
“You two are together?” The accusation and tempered anger in his voice makes me squirm, and I try to unwrap myself from Jagger’s hold, but he only grips me tighter.
My head jerks toward Jagger, eyes narrowed, ready to ask what he’s up to, but he doesn’t even notice me. He’s too busy in some weird, silent stand-off with his brother. Then, a piercing shriek cuts through the space.
The color drain from my face, not needing to see to know where the scream came from. Every pair of eyes on the rooftop turns toward her as two police officers physically carry my mother by her arms as she thrashes in their hold. Shrill profanities leave her mouth, making me wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Or someone would just shove me from the rooftop and end it all.
“What the hell?” Graham hisses as he watches the spectacle. He drags his heavy hand over his head, his eyes growing wider by the second.
I suddenly feel guilty that he’s been blindsided by this. He hates getting caught off-guard by scandal, especially when the scandal involves my mother.
But I had no idea he would be here tonight, or I would’ve told Jagger to relay the message when I warned him.
Jagger steps in front of me, blocking the spectacle from my view even though her screams for my stepfather, Graham and Jagger’s father, echo. He sets both hands on my shoulders and ducks his head to meet my eyes. “Are you okay?”
No. “Yes.”
“Want me to take you home?” He has no idea about my history with my mother, but he knows the events that have occurred over the last year. It’s not a secret I’ve been avoiding her as much as possible. He also isn’t her biggest fan, though I have no clue why.
“There’s no way in hell she’s going anywhere with you. You smell like a damn distillery.” Graham’s eyes are hard and fierce as he stares his younger brother down, making my brows fall.
Jagger cuts his gaze to Graham and winks. “We don’t need a big brother telling us what to do anymore. Do we, Case?”
I stare at him—at both of them in shock, unsure what has gotten into them. Graham doesn’t snap at his younger sibling, and Jagger never provokes his older brother… Well, the last part may not be true, but I feel like I’m missing something. Then again, I haven’t seen them together in a long time.
In a way, Jagger is right: A big brother was never how I saw Graham, and it was never a role I wanted him to fill. That much hasn’t changed.
Graham takes a step forward, pure fury dancing in his eyes. Once upon a time, I would’ve convinced myself it meant that he was jealous. That he saw me as more than the little girl who followed him around whenever he was home.
I hate how my heart flutters, hope begging to come to life, desperate to breathe its lies into my soul again.
You know better, .
My na?ve schoolgirl crush would always be one-sided, and my acceptance of that helped me let go of fairy tales and accept reality.
Just as I place a reluctant hand on his chest, the reminder I need as to why he would never be more than a childish fantasy appears at his side in the form of a curvy, petite blond with eyes the color of ice. “Is everything okay, Graham?” She wraps her tiny fingers around his bicep.
I snatch my hand like I’ve been burned. “Actually, I’m going to stay. Thank you, again, for your help, but I really should get back to my…” I trail off again. Why can’t I just say date?
I shake my head and spin on my heels, dashing away and quickly finding Thad talking to Lily’s brother and her sister-in-law.
He tosses an arm over my shoulder just as he’s announced Sin Records’ new marketing head, but before I can congratulate him, the new CEO is announced.
And my heart stops.
I look over my shoulder, finding hard, fierce eyes on Thad, and I realize…
Graham Davis is back in town for good.