Ten Tiny Breaths (Ten Tiny Breaths #1)

“Yeah, Livie has some sort of magnetic power over them. No kid can resist her. Back home she volunteered at our local daycare a lot. I’m sure she’ll have at least twelve of her own.” I lean in for a mock whisper behind my hand. “Wait ’til she learns what she needs to do with boys for that to happen.”

Storm chuckles softly. “I’m sure she’ll learn soon enough. She’s striking. How old is she?”

“Fifteen.”

She nods slowly. “And you? You in college?”

“Me?” I heave a sigh, fighting the urge to clam up. She’s asking a lot of personal questions about us. I hear Livie's voice inside my head. Try … “No, I’m working right now. School will come later. Maybe in another year or two.” Or ten. I’ll make sure Livie’s set up before me, that’s for sure. She’s the one with a bright future ahead of her.

There’s a long pause as we’re both lost in our own thoughts. “It’s what works for now, right?” I echo her earlier words and I see an understanding in those blue eyes, thinly veiling her own dark closet of skeletons.





Stage Two ~ Denial





Chapter Three





I wander half-asleep into the kitchen to find Livie and Mia at the little dining table, playing Go Fish.

“Good morning!” Livie sings.

“Good morning!” Mia mimics.

“It’s like eight a.m.” I mutter as I grab the cheap jug of OJ I splurged on the other day from the fridge.

“How was work?” Livie asked.

I take a giant gulp right from the jug. “Shit.”

There’s a sharp gasp and I find Mia’s short finger stabbing the air in my direction. “Kacey just said a naughty word!” she whispers.

I cringe as I catch Livie’s unimpressed glare. “I get one, okay?” I say, looking for a way to excuse myself. I’ll have to watch my language if Mia’s going to be hanging around.

Mia’s head cocks to one side, likely considering my logic. Then, like any good five year old’s limited attention span, my heinous infraction is quickly forgotten. She smiles and announces, “You guys are coming over for brunch. Not breakfast and not lunch.”

Now it’s my turn to glare at Livie. “Are we now?”

Lowering her brow, Livie gets up and comes to my side. “You said you’d try,” she reminds me in a low whisper so Mia doesn’t overhear.

“I said I’d be nice. I didn’t say I’d swap muffin recipes with the neighbors,” I respond, trying hard not to growl.

I get an eye roll. “Stop being dramatic. Storm’s cool. I think you’ll like her if you’d stop avoiding her. And all other living creatures.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve graciously served over a thousand cups of coffee this week to living creatures. Some questionable ones too.”

Crossing her arms, Livie’s glare flattens, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not avoiding people.” Yes, I am. Everyone, including Barbie. And Dimples next door. Definitely him. I’m sure I’ve spotted his lean frame watching out the window as I came home at night a few times, but I ducked my head and sped past, my insides constricting at the thought of seeing him face to face again.

“Really? ’Cause Storm sure thinks you are. She came out to talk to you the other day, and you rushed into the apartment like lightning before she could say ‘hi.’”

I hide behind another sip of juice. Busted. I totally did that. I heard her door unlock and the beginnings of a “Hello, Kacey,” and I hurried to shut our apartment door.

“I am like lightning. Lightning Girl has a nice ring to it,” I say.

Livie watches as I scan the meager contents of our fridge and my stomach protests with a perfectly-timed growl. We agreed to spend as little as possible until I had a pay check or two in the bank so we’ve been living off no-name Cheerios and bologna sandwiches for more than a week. Given I need more calories than the average twenty year old to function, it’s left me sluggish. I guess offering to feed us earns Storm at least five points in the potential friend bank.

My tongue slides over my top teeth. “Fine.”

Livie’s face brightens. “That’s a yes?”

I shrug, acting nonchalant. Inside, panic is rising. Livie’s getting too attached to these people. Attachments are bad. Attachments lead to hurt. I make a face. “As long as she’s not making bologna.”

She giggles and I know it’s more than my lame joke. She knows I’m trying, and that makes her happy.

I change the subject. “How’s your new school, by the way?” I’d worked the afternoon shift all week so we haven’t talked once, besides a few kitchen counter notes.

“Oh … right.” Livie’s face pales like she’s seen a ghost. She reaches for her backpack, with a glance back to see Mia busy playing her own card game at the table. “I checked my email account at school,” she explains as she hands me a piece of paper.

My back stiffens. I knew this was coming.

Dearest Olivia,

I assume that sister of yours has convinced you to run off. I can’t possibly understand why but I hope you are safe. Please send me a message to let me know where you are. I will come get you and bring you home, where your parents want you to be. That will make them happy.

I am not upset with you. You are a sheep led astray by a wolf.

Please let me bring you home. Your uncle and I miss you terribly.

Love,

Aunt Darla

Heat erupts like a volcano inside as my blood boils. Not about the wolf comment. I don’t care about that. She’s called me worse. What I do care about is her using our parents as a guilt trip, knowing full well it’d hurt Livie. “You didn’t respond, did you?”

Livie shakes her head solemnly.

“Good,” I push through clenched teeth, crumpling the note into a tight ball. “Delete your account. Get a new one. Don’t ever respond to her. Not once, Livie.”

“Okay, Kacey.”

“I mean it!” I hear Mia’s tiny gasp and I quickly temper my tone. “We don’t need them in our lives.”

There’s a long pause. “She’s not a bad person. She means well.” Livie’s voice turns soft. “You didn’t exactly make things easy for her.”

I push down the lump of guilt forming at the back of my throat, rivaling to take over my anger. “I know that, Livie. I do, really. But Aunt Darla’s way of ‘meaning well’ doesn’t work for us.” My hands move to rub my forehead. I’m no idiot. For the first year after the accident, I put all my effort, focus, and thought into fixing my body so I could move again. Once released, my focus moved on to shoving the memories of my former life into a bottomless well. There were impossible days though—holidays, birthday, and the like—and I quickly learned that alcohol and drugs, while capable of destroying lives, also had magical powers; the power to dull pain. More and more I relied on those weapons against the constant and overwhelming rush of water swelling over my head, threatening to drown me.

That and sex. Meaningless, mindless “take what I want” sex with strangers who I didn’t care about, and who didn’t care about me. No expectations, at least not on my part. Guys from parties, guys from school. If it was awkward for them after, I didn’t care. I never let them get close enough to me to find out. It was the perfect coping mechanism.

Aunt Darla knew what was going on. She didn’t know how to handle it. At first she tried connecting me with her priest so he could confront and rid me of the demons within. This all had to be the work of demons, after all, according to her. But when the demons proved resilient to her church’s powers, I think she decided ignorance was best. “It’s just a phase,” I’d hear her whisper to Livie with a comforting pat. A disgusting, self-deprecating phase that she wanted no part of. From that point on, she put all of her focus on her non-broken niece.

I was fine with that.

Until I woke up to Livie smacking my back to keep me from choking on my own vomit, tears streaming down her cheeks, sobbing hysterically, saying over and over again, “Promise you won’t leave me!” her words a knife stabbing through my heart.