With one rough hand holding my two hands behind my back and another large hand wrapped around my waist, the man pulls me up off the bed. To take me tohim. To themonster. ToCharlie.
A sharp gasp comes from somewhere behind me.
Chapter Two
My hands fly open. Released. A harsh thud pierces the space—something hitting the wall.
I turn fast and recoil, bringing my knees to my body on the bed. A large hand extends toward me.
“Twinkle, relax. It’s me,” a familiar and soothing voice says.
I blink, desperately trying to regain my focus. I jump up and embrace my brother. The only person who calls me Twinkle. Who is allowed to call me that. Who just saved me.
He came up with this nickname when he was six and I was three. I would constantly pester him to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and he always did, never hesitating to comply with my irritating requests. But later, when we were in high school, I questioned why he still called me Twinkle. He said it was because I lit up his life.
“Alek!”
I sigh heavily into his shoulder and cling to his huge body. His warm arms engulf me and drag me off the bed. I hang on his neck, not wanting to let him go. The hot tears I didn’t want that asshole to see spill out in buckets now. And my body shakes and shakes and shakes. Alek clutches me a little tighter.
“You’re okay. I’m here now.”
My feet find the floor, and I pull away from him and zero in on the limp body behind Alek. Charlie’s henchman is lying lifeless against the wall.
“Is he alive?” My voice trembles.
My brother stiffens while still holding my hands.
“Fuck. Unfortunately yes. I only knocked him out… for now.”
“Thank you.” And then it hits me. “What are you doing here?”
He takes a step back to inspect my body, letting go of my hands. I immediately hug myself.
“Are you okay, Twinkle?”
I nod. “How did you know I was in trouble?”
He doesn’t answer me right away because he’s busy inspecting my arms and legs and finally when he gets to my face, he narrows his eyes.
“Did this fucker hit you?” He places his large hand on my cheek, and I wince. “I called you a hundred times this morning. I thought maybe you were busy, but then I called again. A lot. You always pick up. Always. Call it brother-sister bond or a sixth sense, whatever, so I started driving. I’ve never been more scared.”
I always pick up the phone when Alek calls, and he calls often. But I had tunnel vision packing today. I knew my time here was up.
For the last three years while he’s been away, I’ve made sure not to give him any reason to worry. He doesn’t know the extent of issues at home with Mom, on purpose. He had a football scholarship at Bastien University. He received many offers, but he chose Bastien, an hour away, to stay close to us. I’m grateful he got out of this shithole, this so-called home.
“I’m glad you’re here now.”
Alek retracts his hand from my face, his eyes stony.
My brother’s dream, since childhood, was to play for an NFL team, and I’ve supported his dream since we were kids. He’s the most talented wide receiver I’ve ever seen, and he can go far—if he stays away from the drama. So that’s what I’ve done for the last three years. I’ve made sure he concentrates on football and training, not on the problems he left at home.
And I am one of them.
I was convinced I could handle life with Mom by myself, but over the past year, things have gotten worse. Mom drank more and started abusing drugs—over-the-counter ones and stuff she bought from her various boyfriends. Three weeks ago she was fired from her job at the grocery store. And before that, she was fired from her job at the fast food restaurant, and before that, the hair salon, and before that, the discount supply store… and a week ago, she sold me to Charlie.
Alek sits on my bed and rubs the knuckles of his other hand.
“I hope it’s not injured.” My voice is wobbly. The last thing he needs is an injury in his senior year.
