Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Isla
The rumble of Julius’s bike engine vibrated off the walls, and I smiled.
He’d been gone all day. I couldn’t sleep.
I was never much of a sleeper, and I preferred to crash on the couch more than I ever did on a bed.
Perhaps it was because I wasn’t accustomed to having one, and I didn’t want to get used to the comfort.
This wasn’t a permanent stay for me. It was only temporary, and I never allowed myself to forget that.
I was trying to figure out where I went from here, but for the life of me, I had no direction.
This roof over my head was the only thing I had going for me, and I didn’t want to mess that up.
I made sure to do my part in cleaning the house.
It was the least I could do in return for his kindness.
The cops hadn’t come looking for me, and Julius still hadn’t asked me about it. I think that was probably the most surprising thing about him. He hadn’t pushed for any information. He was the first person I ever willingly gave my name to, and I didn’t second-guess myself about it.
I still felt horrible about that morning, and I couldn’t shake the memory of Julius’s face. I had to give him something when I practically forced him to open up. It wasn’t my intention at all.
For the past month, life was nice. Probably the nicest it’d ever been. I had peace in a house that didn’t offer the same gift to the brothers. I think it was part of the reason Julius stayed busy, and Kraven, I didn’t know what he was up to, but from Julius’s worry, it wasn’t any good.
When I did run into Kraven in the house, it was always the same hatred directed right at me, and it was why I made sure to keep my distance, not wanting to piss him off more than I already had.
Thankfully, he wasn’t there much. I spent a lot of my time alone, and I was used to that.
The only exception was that I didn’t have to look over my shoulder behind their concrete walls.
They’d become my fortress, and I guess you could say, Julius was the guard while Kraven was the executioner. They constantly butted heads over me, and I hated that just as much.
I took a deep breath, seeing the clock on the wall read almost one in the morning.
It was usually the time Julius came back.
He always had a snack for me, whether it was chocolate or chips.
I started looking forward to it despite trying like hell not to let it get to me.
Having a friend was different from what I thought it would be.
I didn’t realize it’d be so terrifying, worried about losing someone who mattered.
It was the scariest sensation, but that didn’t stop me from embracing it.
I’d been alone for so long that his friendship was steady, comforting, and easy.
There wasn’t a lot I could do to return the favor. I did what I could. I cleaned.
Everything.
Anything.
I kept the place spotless although Julius insisted that I didn’t have to do it.
I wanted to, and I reminded him of that.
It gave me something to keep my mind occupied, away from a future I didn’t want to acknowledge.
For right now, I chose to hide in a house that never offered any protection to anyone but me, and that much was obvious.
I tried not to snoop, I really did. However, I was only human, and anytime I’d clean, I’d end up finding something new, like a half-used bottle of women’s perfume or a pink hairbrush, even a pair of old slippers.
They were simple things to overlook and easy to toss out.
Most were hidden under the couch or in the back of a cabinet.
As I was cleaning the garage that morning, organizing the boxes onto the shelves, one of the tops popped open, and a recipe book was right on top.
I reached in and grabbed it. It was coated in dust, so I wiped it off.
The recipes were all different, and when I found one that had ingredients we already had, I was in the kitchen cooking before I knew what I was doing.
Once again, I just wanted to show my appreciation. It was only spaghetti, but it was the first meal I’d ever made. Since Julius was usually home late, I cooked it late, wanting it to be fresh and warm for him.
I jumped off the couch, running to pull the garlic bread out of the oven. It was perfect timing. Once I stepped foot into the kitchen, the garage door opened, revealing Kraven instead.
Our eyes locked as I stood there frozen, impatiently waiting for his wrath like always. Rather than experiencing that, I received something else in its place. His gaze didn’t linger on me for very long, shifting to the recipe book on the counter instead.
His stare went wide, drawing in sadness for a brief second. The expression on his face betrayed that something deeper was going on, and I didn’t overlook the fact that he was openly showing me his torment.
I instantly wanted to apologize.
To explain.
To make it right.
Pleading my case wouldn’t matter. It was clear that the recipe book meant more than I could have ever imagined. Where Julius never made me feel like I had to speak, Kraven did.
My lips were about to move. For the first time, silence wasn’t my resolve; it was my affliction.
My mouth opened at the same time that Julius’s footsteps walked into the kitchen behind me.
His stare was focused solely on the recipe book, too, narrowing tightly like he was fighting some sort of déjà vu.
Right in front of me, two brothers waged war with demons I couldn’t see, only felt. I was caught in the crossfire between the past and the present. The scent of spaghetti filled the room, simply adding more anguish to a situation I wished I hadn’t started. This was all my fault.
Julius walked toward the oven, opening it to take out the garlic bread. He set it on the stove and then grabbed the recipe book.
Glancing at Kraven before meeting my eyes, he asked, “Where did you find this?”
I nodded to the garage.
In two strides, Kraven snatched the book out of his brother’s hand. His silence was louder than any yelling he could have been doing, while his movements were precise and calculated.
Still not uttering a word, he lifted the pot and bread.
We both knew what he was about to do as Julius stressed, “Kraven, don’t—”
With one hard toss, he threw it in the garbage.
The sound of metal clashing against the can echoed through the kitchen.
I couldn’t help but shudder. It was such a loud statement.
The recipe book was next. Kraven didn’t hesitate, not for one second.
In a harsh, brutal gesture, he slammed that book into the trash as if it were a final nail in the coffin.
I felt like I meddled with something so sacred yet so broken.
His chest heaved as he spun to face me. “That book should have stayed buried, and if you don’t get out of my fucking face,” Kraven roared, “you’re going to be next, Isla.”
I sucked in a breath as Julius stepped out in front of me. Once again taking the bullet meant for me, he shielded me from the agony I unknowingly inflicted on both of them.
I learned that night that Julius could hide his emotions, while Kraven let his emotions eat him alive. At some point, Julius must have told him my name because this was the first time he used it.
“Every time you stand in front of her,” Kraven seethed at Julius, “you’re turning your back on me.”
Julius stayed quiet. I hated that I kept causing this rift between them. All they had were each other before I came along, and now, I was causing this major divide.
Neither said anything else.
I guess neither had to.
Kraven backed away and abruptly left, never looking at me again. His footsteps clung heavily the farther they ricocheted down the hall and up the stairs.
I’d forever be the spark that ignited the fire of their heated flame. This wasn’t how I expected this night to go. It was like I couldn’t do anything right when it came to their relationship. Except they weren’t just friends, they were family.
Brothers.
Blood was supposed to be thicker than water, and I was proving to be the weight that tipped the scales of how far you’d go for loyalty and friendship.
Julius was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I had no one else to fall back on.
From the looks of it, neither did Kraven.
I was taking away the only consistency they had—each other.
I had no choice but to stay there, continuing to break their bond, and that was the hardest pill to swallow.
If I left, Julius would try to find me, and he’d blame Kraven for it, further escalating their issues.
Leaving wouldn’t help, but staying wouldn’t either.
I was stuck between a rock and a hard place too.
Julius and Kraven.
I was always the one trapped in the middle, torn between the good guy and the bad boy.
After Kraven slammed his bedroom door, jarring the walls, Julius and I locked stares.
In one simple affirmation, he stated, “You didn’t know, Isla.”
I still didn’t.
Though feeling it made it much worse.
With that, Julius went to the garbage can, pulled out the recipe book, and retrieved the pot of spaghetti. He uncovered the pot and set it on the counter, then threw the recipe book back in the trash. I watched as he served himself a plate, serving me one as well.
He handed it to me, his gaze pleading to accept. Of course I did. I’d do anything for him. I owed him that. He led the way to the dining table, and we sat beside one another.
Julius ate the first bite, confessing, “It tastes just like my mom’s.”
His voice was low, but his tone was haunting.
Instinctively, I reached for his plate, but he intercepted. Instead of letting me take away his pain, he shared it with me, one bite at a time.
I wasn’t much for affection, and being starved of it my whole life didn’t help, but at that moment, being there with him felt right. Without thinking, I stayed seated, looking in front of me, and laid my head on his shoulder.
He didn’t move.
He didn’t flinch.
Instead, he laid his head on mine too.
We stayed like that until, once again, the silence between us was comfort, not emptiness. Time stood still, holding us in place. Except the following morning, when I woke up on the couch, I didn’t expect to see the cookbook on the coffee table, left there by one of the brothers.
I asked myself… was it Julius or was it Kraven who left it there for me?
I couldn’t tell you why I thought it might have been Kraven, but it was a question I’d never be able to ask out loud.
At least not until I knew the truth without having to ask it at all.