When Luke dropped me off at my apartment, I went inside and leaned against my door. My insides were swirling. So much had happened, but I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t. ‘Keep forward. Deal later.’ That’d been a quote I loved and I needed it that day. So, I literally moved forward, showering and collapsing in my bed, but after waking a few hours later with nightmares of cops breaking down my own door, I figured the ‘deal later’ would need to be much, much later. It was close to dinner time, so to keep pushing everything out of my mind, I headed for my mom’s house. Braden would hear about my escapade soon enough, but I wanted him to hear it from me.
My stomach grumbled as I went in through the back door. I needed to get some food, but instead of the expected aromas of dinner being made, there was nothing. The kitchen lights were off; only the hallway light was on. My mom rushed out, dressed in scrubs with her identification tag that said Sharon Masterson hanging around her neck. She’d recently showered and her hair, normally light blonde, looked dark as it was twisted up in a bun. She was slender, my size and height. Braden always complained he hadn’t gotten the tall gene from our dad. Both of us got our darker looks from him, though. Dark hair. Tan complexion, but I was thankful that was it. There were so many other attributes we could’ve gotten from him, like being an abusive asshole. Being 5’11” was going to be Braden’s curse instead.
“Oh, honey.” She grabbed her keys from the kitchen table and came over to kiss me on the cheek. Patting my shoulder, she grabbed a water from the refrigerator. “How was your night?”
I watched her grab a gait belt and asked as she looped it around her waist, “Is that a trick question?”
“Huh?” Her forehead wrinkled. Searching her pockets, she bit down on her lip and started looking around the kitchen. “I need a pen. I always forget my pens.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her. Elijah. The raid. Luke. I didn’t. I wasn’t sure what she’d say to me. Our mom had never been a big disciplinarian. She let us make our own mistakes. She had to, though. She was too busy working to know half the times when we did get in trouble.
“There’s food in the fridge, if you need to eat something.” She hurried to the door, but turned and used her back to open it. “Oh. Can you wake your brother up? He’s napping, and since you’re here, can you give him a ride to Rowdy’s? He asked for a ride earlier.”
I nodded. Yep. Sounds good. I’ll tell you about the SWAT raid later…maybe… By the time she rushed out the door, I knew I wasn’t ever going to tell her. I’d tell her about Elijah. That’d be good enough. She liked him, but was wary after Braden shared his suspicions of him. Thinking of my brother, I went to wake him up.
An hour later, on our way to Rowdy’s for his practice, I told my brother the news. He exclaimed, “This is awesome!”
Had I heard my brother right? “It’s awesome I was taken to jail today?”
“No.” Braden faltered. “You said you were done with Elijah, right?” Braden scratched the back of his head. When his hand left his head, the hair behind his ear remained standing up. It worked for him. He was dressed in a simple black shirt and jeans like mine, except his were baggy and hung low on his hips. With a few leather bracelets on his wrist and his new tattoo, he had taken on the rocker bad boy look.
I didn’t know what to say. Hearing Braden say those words, that I was done, sounded alien to me.
The longer I stayed quiet, the more his grin slipped until it turned into a look of alarm. He turned squarely in his seat until he was facing me and raked a hand through his black hair. “Brielle, tell me you’re not going back to him.” He shook his head. “You told me you believed me earlier. You came in my room, kicked my bed, woke me up, and apologized for being a dumbass over the years. You said you believed me. You can’t take it back.”
I tried to shake my head, but my neck muscles had stiffened. We were done… We were done… I needed to keep telling myself that.
“Bri!”
I jerked out of my thoughts, realizing I had a death-grip on the steering wheel. “What?”
“You are done with him, right? I’m not going to shut up until you actually say the words.”
“Yes.” It came out hoarse, like I’d swallowed a boulder that was stuck in my throat. I coughed and said again, my voice much clearer, “Yes, I’m done. I’m sure Emerson told him already, anyway.”
“For real, real?”
“Yes!”
“Good.” He jerked back in his seat, a sound of relief coming from him. “Elijah’s not a bad dude, like in personality and stuff, but the guy’s messed up in other ways. For one, he sells drugs.” He gave me a grin. “I can’t believe he was able to hide it from you this whole time.”
“Yeah.” A lump formed at the base of my throat, blocking my oxygen for a moment. As my brother kept talking, so carefree now, pain sliced through me. With each word he spoke, the pain in my heart grew. Shit. Elijah and I really were done. Three years and now—that’s why it didn’t feel real to me. It felt like I was mad and just avoiding him for a weekend.
Braden continued chatting, excited to have his sister back. I could go to their practices, I could help with the band, I would have free time to hang out with him, blah, blah, blah. He kept going as I sat here, feeling as if someone was slapping me over and over again.
“Shut up.”
Braden stopped. “Huh?”
“Just...” Was there a nicer way to say this? “Shut up, okay?”
“Why?”
“Braden.” I closed my eyes for a second, wanting to just disappear and take a breather. I opened them again, but couldn’t look at him. “I loved Elijah. We’re over. Do me a favor and stop rubbing it in. I literally just told you.”