Ten Tiny Breaths (Ten Tiny Breaths #1)

I stopped everything that night. The drinking. The drugs. The random sex. The sex, period. I haven’t so much as looked at a guy since. I’m not sure why. I guess it’s all linked together in my mind. Luckily, I found a new release with kick boxing soon after. Livie’s never completely approved or supported me in this newest addiction but she happily takes it over the other stuff.

I slam the fridge door, not wanting to think about Aunt Darla or the depths of my self-destructive past anymore. “What time’s breakfast?”

“Brunch!” Mia corrects me with a loud sigh of exasperation.

***

The delicious smells of bacon and coffee sparks hunger pangs as we follow Mia into her place. I mentally pat myself on the back for making the right choice. If nothing else, I’ll have loads of energy for the gym today.

My attention drifts over Storm’s apartment with a degree of awe. It’s a mirror of ours except it’s nice. She’s filled the living room with a dove gray sectional, sparkly throw cushions, and little glass tables with pretty crystal lamps. A flat screen television sits on a stylish teak armoire. The hideous green carpet peeks out beneath a cream shag rug. Her walls are a light gray and splashed with candid black and white photos of Mia. Where our apartment looks like a cheap rental, Storm’s looks like a trendy girlish boutique.

I have to admit, as I sit at the table and quietly listen to Storm, Livie, and Mia banter back and forth, I’m starting to like Storm whether I want to or not. Though one would never know by looking at her, what with those distracting inflatables on her chest, Storm’s street smart and she acts a lot older than her twenty-three years. It takes no time to see that. She’s laid back and she cracks a witty joke here and there in that soft, but husky voice of hers. She fumbles with her hair a lot, and laughs easily, and I see nothing but sincerity and interest in her eyes. For someone so beautiful, she doesn’t come across as vain or self-absorbed. Mostly she listens though. And watches. Those shrewd orbs take everything in. I catch her studying the tattoo on my thigh, narrowing slightly as I’m sure she zeroes in on the hideous scar beneath. It’s the one major scar that’s not caused by surgery on my body but from a jagged chunk of flying glass.

She doesn’t ask about it, though, and that makes me like her even more.

“Oh, man!” Storm exclaims through a yawn, eyes red and lined with dark purple bags. Leaning on her elbows, she rubs her face fiercely. “I can’t wait until Mia learns how to sleep in. At least during the week I can sneak in a mid-morning nap while she’s at school.”

“Oh, I was going to ask you. Do you mind if I take Mia to the park down the street?” Livie offers as if she’s been thinking about it and genuinely forgot. I instantly see what she’s doing. That’s so Livie. “I won’t let her out of my sight. Not for a sec, I promise. I’ve got my CPR certification, my junior lifeguard designation, a thousand hours at a private day care.” Livie starts rhyming off her impressive resume. “I even have a printed copy of my resume in our apartment if you want to have a copy. And references!” Of course you do, Livie. “We’ll be back in, say, four hours, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, Mommy! Say yes!” Mia bounces up and down on the couch, waving her arms frantically. “Say yes! Yes! Yes! Mommy, say yes!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” Storm laughs, patting the air. “Of course you can, Livie. You spend so much time with her as it is, I’m not worried about your credentials. I should be paying you, though!”

“No. Absolutely not.” Livie brushes her words away, earning my sharp glare. Is she nuts? Does she enjoy eating bologna? Must we move on to Spam?

Livie helps Mia with her shoes. “Bye, Mommy!” Mia shouts on her way out. Livie avoids making eye contact with me. It’s like she has a line to my brain and can read my scathing thoughts.

As soon as the door closes, Storm’s forehead drops to the table. “I thought I was going to die today. Oh, Kacey. I swear, your sister’s like an angel fluttering around with little satin wings and a magical wand. I’ve never met someone like her. Mia’s already so in love with her.”

The layer of ice over my heart melts. I decide maybe I can “try” to be friends with Storm Matthews, giant fake breasts and all.

***

“See you later, Livie,” I grumble, grabbing my things for Starbucks, a scowl twisting my face.

“Kace …” There’s a long pause. Livie’s gulp fills the silence in the apartment and I know something’s bothering her.

“Ugh, Livie!” I roll my head back. “Spit it out. I don’t want to be late for my stellar job.”

“I think I should have stayed in Grand Rapids.”

That freezes my feet. Anger sparks inside me at the thought of my little sister left back there. Not with me. “Stop saying stupid shit like that, Livie.” I tap her nose, making her flinch. “Right now. Of course you shouldn’t have stayed in Grand Rapids.”

“How are we going to survive though?”

“With ten hours of prostitution for each of us. Maximum.”

“Kacey!”

I sigh, turning serious. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I can get a job.”

“You need to concentrate on school, Livie. But …” I waggle my finger at her. “If Storm offers you money again, take it.”

She’s already shaking her head. “No. I’m not taking money to hang out with Mia. She’s fun.”

“You’re supposed to be having fun with people your own age, Livie. Like boys.”

She sets her jaw stubbornly. “When they’re not idiots, I’ll do that. Until then, five years olds make more sense.”

I stifle a laugh. That’s part of Livie’s problem. She’s too smart. Genius smart. She’s never related to kids her own age. I think she was born with the maturity of a twenty-five year old. Losing my parents only exacerbated that problem. She’s grown up too fast.

“What about you? It’s never too late for the Princeton dream,” she says quietly.

An unattractive snort escapes me. “That dream died years ago for me, Livie, and you know that. You’ll go, on that full scholarship you’re going to earn. I’ll apply somewhere local as soon as I have the money.” And somehow forge my transcript to make up two years of appalling grades.

Her brow creases in that worried Livie way. “Local, Kacey? Dad would hate that.” She’s right, he would. Our dad went to Princeton. His dad when to Princeton. In his view, I may as well enroll in a school with golden arches for a crest and take “Flipping Burgers 1-0-1” if I’m not going to Princeton. But Mom and Dad are gone and Uncle Raymond blew our entire inheritance on a black jack table.

I remember the night I found out about that like it was yesterday. It was my nineteenth birthday and I asked Aunt Darla and Uncle Raymond for our money so we could move out. I wanted to become Livie’s legal guardian. I knew something was up when Aunt Darla couldn’t meet my eyes. Uncle Raymond stumbled over his words before blurting out that there was nothing left.

After smashing almost every dish on the kitchen counter and jamming my foot into Uncle Raymond’s jugular so hard his face turned purple, I dialed the cops, ready to charge them with theft. Livie grabbed the phone from me and hung up before the call went through. We wouldn’t win. I’d likely be the one arrested. As smart as Mom and Dad were, they didn’t plan on dying. All the money left after the debts were paid went to Uncle Raymond and Aunt Darla to “care” for us. Secretly, I’m kind of glad Uncle Raymond did all that he did. It gave me another legitimate excuse to take my sister and leave that part of our lives behind for good.

I pat Livie’s back, trying to appease her guilt. “Dad would be happy that we’re safe. End of story.”

***

The next day I’m in the laundromat, when Storm skips down the steps, smiling but sallow-eyed. Livie took Mia to the park again and I’m giving serious consideration to smacking her upside the head for refusing to take money.

“Tanner must have his panties in a bunch over this.” Storm slides her foot across the sticky green stain left by my detergent. I duck my head, silently reminding myself to come back and scrub the floor. The thought of Tanner in any kind of underwear makes bile rise in my throat.