Broken and Screwed 2 (BS #2)

“Alexandra,” my father barked. “Get ahold of yourself.”


“I have.” I shook my head. The rage was in there. It was flying around, but it was starting to leave. That wasn’t right. I was supposed to have enough to last me weeks, but it was depleting fast. Then I felt Jesse’s hand over mine. He interlaced our fingers. When my parents saw the movement, their eyes widened and they both went still. They had no idea, but did it matter? I lifted our hands and asked, weakening by the second, “Does this make things different? Am I worth your love now because he loves me?”

My mother asked in a quiet tone, “He loves you?”

I shrugged. “Does it matter if he does or doesn’t? I live here. We’ve been together—”

“When?” my dad demanded.

I frowned. He couldn’t have been protective of me; it must’ve been for Jesse. He didn’t want me to infect his new favorite son. “Does that matter too?”

“When!?” he shouted now.

“Ethan’s funeral,” Jesse spoke for me. He drew closer. I felt him trying to nudge me behind him, but I stepped to the side. He wasn’t going to take them on for me. No way. This was my fight. I’d see this to the end.

My mother sucked in her breath. Again.

A fierce frown came over my father.

“Then Ethan’s birthday.”

“The anniversary of Ethan’s death,” Jesse added, throwing me a grin.

“After that it was more frequent. I was with him in Vegas last year. You guys came for the game, but I was there too. I stayed with him in his room.” My parents seemed to shrivel before me and I grinned. I was loving this effect on them. Any effect, any sign that I mattered, I wanted. It didn’t mean they still cared. I was a pest to them. It concerned my father that I could’ve been brought back into the family. He wanted me gone. My mother told the 911 operator the same sentiment. Her daughter was not to know anything. That’s when I asked, targeting her, “Did you really try to kill yourself?”

She flushed. Her head jerked down.

My father covered her hand with his. “Alex,” he warned me.

I ignored him. “You told the 911 operator that your daughter wasn’t supposed to know anything about what happened. The nurses said you hadn’t taken enough to kill yourself, only to go to sleep. They think it was a cry for help.” I frowned, pain flooding me once again. No. It hadn’t stopped. I was always in pain. They had broken me long ago. “Want to know what I think? I think you were giving yourself an excuse. Dad jumped on board. He whisked you away, for your safekeeping. You left me in the house alone, with Ethan.”

Her head lifted again. Her eyes searched mine, a hope rekindled.

I shook my head. “His ghost, Mom. Only his ghost. He’s there, you know. He’s everywhere. I used to feel him all the time. I don’t anymore, not as much. Some days I do, but other days...” I couldn’t feel him anymore. It was like he didn’t want to associate with this event. Regret flared in me. I didn’t know what that meant. Maybe I shouldn’t have reacted? Maybe I should’ve let my parents go? It’s what they wanted. They wanted to forget everything.

My father cleared his throat. Rage was still brimming in his depths, but he only turned to Jesse.

He’d never change.

“Is that true? Is my daughter living with you?”

Jesse frowned. His eyebrows furrowed together, but he lifted his chin in response. “Yes.” He didn’t stutter. He didn’t falter. He was standing against my father.

“Are the two of you sleeping together?”“Every time she’ll let me.”

My mom flinched in her seat.

My heart began picking up its pace again. Something close to hope fluttered in my stomach.

“This has been happening from the start?”

Jesse nodded. His frown deepened, but his hand clenched tighter over mine. He pulled me back to his side so we were touching.

“And if I asked for this to stop?”

“Not a chance.”

The frown turned into a scowl on my father and he turned away, nodding to himself.

“Are you happy?”

The question came out of nowhere. I turned, shocked, at the soft voice that came from my mother. It wasn’t a tone I heard from her, not in so long, not after Ethan’s death. She sounded like a mother, like she cared. But no... She couldn’t.

“Are you?” Jesse asked me.

A lump settled in my throat, but I nodded. I couldn’t talk and tears threatened to spill, but I nodded again. “Yes,” ripped from me.

She smiled. “I’m glad then.”

“Shelby!”

“Don,” she lifted a hand and placed it on the table. “Leave it be. I don’t think you’ve thought this through. Do you want to hurt Alexandra? Or Jesse?”

He fell silent.

“We’ve been hurt enough. Going off and leaving our daughter wasn’t the right thing. My life coaches were right. We should’ve rallied together as a family and not what we did. We fell apart.”