HER
Iwas thirteen years old when I realized you didn’thaveto put a horse down after it broke a leg. It was a choice. Because it cost too much money, time, energy to repair a break. But that wasn’t all. A fractured limb left the poor beast susceptible to infection and the list of comorbidities that came with it. Laminitis, abscesses, gastrointestinal issues…
Horses were bred to be agile, fast. Large torsos and thin, brittle legs meant they had difficulty moving around when you took one of those legs away. They couldn’t rest the bone long enough to heal. Then it became a matter of quality of life. What kind of pain the creature would endure during that healing process and if it would be indefinite.
Mother nature was cruel. But sometimes she was kind too. Sometimes death was the kindest thing you could do for an animal you couldn’t fix.
Robbie was that animal.
I’d tried for years. Did everything I could think of totry to fix what wasn’t right with his brain. And I only succeeded in prolonging everyone’s suffering. Including my own. Because I’d failed him as much as he’d failed me.
I saw that now. I saw it that night I put a razor blade to my wrists. Except I’d taken the easy way out and attempted to put down the wrong beast.
The truth was, I would have been a horrible veterinarian. I didn’t have it in me to make those hard choices doctors had to make on a daily basis, and my baby brother? He was my weakness. He always had been and I couldn’t live with the guilt anymore. The nothingness it turned into. But Cain didn’t have to be like Robbie. He wasn’t broken in the same way. He still had a chance to heal and I wanted to be the one to help him do it.
The sex doll wasn’t the answer. I realized that too. But maybe incapacitating myself was. Maybe it could be…
I didn’t feel the jab of the injection tip, but I did feel the sudden jolt of epinephrine flood my system. My heart beating faster as the beta blocker fought the artificial rush of adrenaline. Like two steam engines colliding head-on. It was enough of a shock to send me into cardiac arrest, except it didn’t.
Instead, I sucked in a gasp of air, my eyes fluttering open as sweat drenched my forehead. I closed themagain and took a few deep breaths, trying to block out the sensory overload that had my body feeling like it was under attack. Until I sensed him standing over me and my nerve endings ignited in a different way. My thighs clenching together and my pale skin turning flush. I didn’t have to see it when I could feel my cheeks burning up.
I didn’t know what it was about him. But this man had this habit of making me feel alive even when I was dead…
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
HIM
Iwatched her face for a lot longer than I cared to admit, the little expressions she made as she came to and then went somewhere else entirely. Didn’t know where. Just that it wasn’t here. With me. And I didn’t like feeling like I was sharing her with someone or something. Even if that something was in her head.
My feet hit the floor with a loud thud as I twisted off the bed, pulled open the bedroom door, and stomped downstairs. It didn’t take long before I could sense her following me. Slowly. She was still shaky on her legs, holding on to the banister for dear life as I kept my back to her.
A little voice in my head was telling me I should reach over and help steady her before she missed a step and went tumbling down in front of me. A much louder one was reminding me that the last thing I should be doing was touching her when my bruised ego was itching to bruise her too.
I’d made it to the kitchen, throwing a pan on thestovetop while clanking around in the drawers by the time she caught up with me again.
“You’re mad at me,” she said it like it was some sort of declaration. It sure as shit wasn’t a question so I didn’t see a need to answer her.
The chair scraped against the linoleum flooring as Jules pulled it from the table and sat down. Watching me as I brought the water in the pan to a boil. We both needed the carbs for one reason or another so spaghetti and red sauce was what she was getting. Whether or not she cared for it, I didn’tcare.
There was only so much I could do in the kitchen. Wasn’t like Briarwood offered home economics. Most of this shit I learned how to do by watching YouTube videos on a stolen phone.
“Why are you mad?” she tried again.
“You asking me or telling me this time?” I grunted as I broke the pasta in half and forced it past the bubbling surface with the tip of the spatula. I was half-tempted to use my hand, just to relieve some of the tension in my shoulders.
Getting a nut off was supposed to help relax ya, not wind ya up worse. Right now, I was one of those racecars you pulled back over and over, and I was just waiting to shoot across the ground as soon as my wheels touched dirt.
When she didn’t answer me, I turned around to find Jules staring out into the living room. Her focus hooked on the fucker sprawled out on the floor.
“If ya wanna be with him so bad, you’re more than welcome to go over there, sweetheart,” I told her andwaited for her reaction. I meant it too. If she wanted to go where that guy was going instead of being here with me, I had no qualms about sending her there.
She shook her head before meeting my glare. Her eyes watering like she’d changed her mind and wasn’t feeling so appreciative anymore.
I slammed a palm down on the counter to get her attention, and she curled her arms around herself. Pulling her feet up onto the chair and hugging her knees. “I keep expecting to look over and find him… I don’t know… just gone…” she whispered.
I peered over at the living room with a smirk. Fucker wasn’t popping up like some jump scare. That shit only happened on the big screen. In real life, dead guys stayed dead.
“I promise you he ain’t going anywhere.” I twirled the spatula around before withdrawing it from the pot and gesturing the fat end towards the blood that was making its way into the hall, a large dark puddle already seeping into the carpet. “Feel free to check for a pulse if ya don’t believe me, though.”
