CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Brooks
“I can’t believe you packed cereal,” Audrey says, giggling beside me.
The bedroom is dark. The only light comes from the moon hanging in the inky sky and the candle burning in the bathroom. I can never sleep, so being awake at two in the morning isn’t new for me. Audrey, though, keeps yawning.
“Cereal is the best food on the planet,” I say, popping a chocolatey ball in my mouth. The crunch is so satisfying. “You can eat it with milk like a proper meal, or dry like a snack. You can go whole grain bullshit if you want to pretend you’re healthy, or say fuck it and just get the ones with marshmallows. There are hundreds of ways to do it.”
She curls against my side, draping an arm over my chest, and sighs. But she should be happily sighing. I fed her takeout, fucked her twice since we arrived, and fought her in an impromptu self-defense lesson that led to the second fucking of the night. I sure as hell don’t have any complaints.
I’ve learned quite a few things today, none of which I ever set out to learn. I know Audrey loves baths so hot that it practicallymelts your skin, that her toes look adorable poking out of the bubbles, and I don’t mind bathing with a woman.Who knew?
“I would say the same things about pizza,” she says. “That’s how I put on fifteen pounds my freshman year—solely on pizza.”
“Did you just binge it or what?”
“Pretty much. We didn’t have it a lot growing up, so once I could do what I wanted, I went a little overboard.”
“A childhood without a lot of pizza is something I can’t fathom,” I say, popping another handful of cereal into my mouth. “That’s about all I ate growing up. Mom worked her second job in a little sandwich shop that served individual pizzas. They could eat on their shift for free, so she’d bring me a pizza home almost every night.”
Audrey’s fingertips trace the lines of my muscles. “What’s your mom like? I know you’re close with her, but what does she do now?”
I almost change the subject, because it doesn’t matter, and I’ve discovered the more you know about people, the more complicated things get. But as I shift topics, I realize I’m stilltechnicallyright. It doesn’t matter. And that’s why it doesn’t matter if I tell her about my mom or not. It can’t hurt anything. Neither of us is under an illusion that this is anything more than a few fun days, so what the hell?
“Mom does whatever she wants now,” I say, crunching another chocolate ball. “She’s been basking in retirement for the last few years. I signed a brand deal with a sports drink company for an absurd amount of money, so, I bought her a house, a car, and a money market account that she can use to bake pies, take vacations, or sleep in for all I care.”
She lifts her head. “That’s so nice, Brooks.”
“It’s respect. She hustled her ass off while I was growing up. She paid the bills, bought school clothes—all of it.” The woman never rested, making sure my childhood was filled with goodmoments. Card games, board games, and one year we made kites and flew them at the park all spring. She’s the epitome of selflessness. “One year, I tried to skip baseball because I knew we didn’t have the money for the entry fee and all that shit, and she signed me up anyway. She sacrificed her whole life for me.”
Almost completely.
“She sounds amazing,” Audrey says, resting her head on me again. “I bet you were a handful as a kid.”
I laugh. “There’s a boy, Trent, who comes into Alfie’s a lot. Reminds me so much of myself. He’s a little shithead with a motherfucker for a father. The similarities are uncanny.”
“Can I ask about your father?”
I stiffen reflexively. The thought of talking about him makes my stomach crawl. There’s no reason he should occupy any of her brain space, but she already knows enough to be curious, and if I don’t end that curiosity, he’ll live in her head without the black line through his name that belongs there.
“I was seventeen when he died,” I say, tossing the rest of my cereal back into the baggie and placing it on the bedside table. “We had a rugby game and got back late. I was supposed to go to Gray’s that night, but something made me change my mind. Something just told me to go home. So, I did.”
Audrey’s breaths come and go in smooth, steady waves. I match mine to hers, hoping it’ll keep my blood pressure from spiking.
“So, I get there,” I say, swallowing a lump in my throat. “And Dad’s truck is in the driveway. He’d come and go, depending on what drugs he could find, so he was unpredictable. But he was there that night, and it was just … off. I went in through the back door, and the kitchen television was on. This little black-and-white box thing that got like three channels. But if he was home and worked up, he’d sit right there where you couldn’t avoid him, itching for a fight.”
She dips her chin, snuggling closer, holding me tighter. She seems to know I need the comfort—something I’ve never considered to be true.
“I flipped it off, and that’s when I heard it.” I work to unclench my jaw. “A thud. The kind of thud that you feel more than you really hear. It just vibrates around in your head, sending chills down your spine.”
I stare into the darkness, memories of that night flashing through my mind. The hatred in his eyes when he looked at me. The streaks of blood coming out of mom’s nose and the corner of her mouth. The smell of pure evil.
A layer of sweat covers my skin as I take a breath. “I took the steps two at a time and then rounded the corner. The bathroom door was open and … there they are.” I lie back, my heart racing. “My mom’s dad had a pocket watch that he gave her before he died to give to me when I graduated from high school. It was the only thing she had worth a damn, but the sentimental value was worth more than the money. My father had been looking for it, and I knew he was gonna pawn it, and I knew that’d break Mom’s heart. So, I hid it in one of the bathroom vents. And he found it.”
“Oh, no,” Audrey whispers.
