Almost Broken (15 page)

Read Almost Broken Online

Authors: Portia Moore

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Romance, #New Adult & College, #Romantic Suspense, #Sagas, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Almost Broken
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“Aidan. My friend you met the last time you came... A friend of his saw someone who treats some of the soldiers with problems from his unit. He gave me the number. I haven’t called yet,” he admits.

“It’s a little scary all of this, isn’t it?” I ask him, and he chuckles. “I know Cal is a part of me,” he says quietly.

It’s still weird for me to hear him to say his name. When I was in high school, it became popular to refer to yourself in third person. I hated it, but I know this isn’t a fad for Chris.

“But I’m having a hard time really understanding
how
he’s a part of me. The scarier part is why.” He looks up at me, and his eyes reveal his fear. I want to reach across the table and hold his hand and let him know everything will be okay, but I don’t know if that’d be appropriate. I spend most of my time these days wondering what’s appropriate for us.

“If there’s ever anything you need to talk to me about. Even if it’s…uncomfortable or you think it wouldn’t be easy for me,” I let out a sigh, “I’m here. We’re in this together.” I hope he can see that I’m genuine. I do mean it. His eyes lock on to mine for the first time since I’ve met him. They don’t dart around or glance at me momentarily. They’re deep, clear, green oceans that show me his soul. He’s vulnerable and afraid. I never stopped to think how terrifying this could be for him. To have a part of yourself take control that you’re not aware of, afraid of, and have absolutely no idea why….or when it could happen again. He smiles, and I hope what I said has helped him. I can’t tell if he’s smiling because he feels better or to make me feel better.

“Sometimes I feel like this guy is the boogeyman or something,” he chuckles.

“Well, I’m not afraid of him,” I tell him lightheartedly.

HHH

The rest of the day goes by smoothly and uneventfully. Caylen and Chris watched cartoons together while I showered and cleaned up our room. Chris was called in to teach today so for the past three hours it’s been Caylen and me at the house alone. It takes a little getting used to, being in this house without anyone who actually lives here. Chris and Mrs. Scott have told me to make myself at home so many times I’ve lost count. When I first arrived, it reminded me of Raven’s but in actuality it’s a lot bigger. There are four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and an attic. I haven’t seen a basement I haven’t snooped in. It’s still comforting to be in the house Cal grew up in. It’s a place I always longed to know about. I’m not sure when the Scotts will be back home. I start to get a little stir crazy after I put Caylen down for her nap. I’ve just finished editing the last manuscript I had in my queue. I called Raven who gave me a bit of the cold shoulder on the call mostly cooing to Caylen. She’s still not thrilled that I’ve decided to stay here a few weeks. She’d probably drive straight here if I told her I was staying at their house. I’ve tried calling Angela, but she hasn’t called me back since I tried a few hours ago. She’s knee-deep in the middle of writing her thesis, and I don’t want to keep burdening her with my ever-growing list of dramas.

Hillary pops into my thoughts a few times, but I push her out. I still feel terrible the way our last conversation ended. She was right. I didn’t tell her what I did for her own good or because she needed to hear it. I did it to be a bitch. Well, not intentionally to be a bitch, but I was so tired of her telling me what’s best for my life or how stupid the decisions I made are when her own decisions seem completely irrational. I end up on the couch in the Scott’s living room, watching a marathon of
Property Brothers
like I do most days at home when I hear a knock at the door. It’s a little faint, and I realize it’s coming from the kitchen. I’m not really sure what to do. I don’t know who would be here for the Scotts, and I’m really not sure who they’ve informed about the nature of my stay. It wouldn’t be fun to explain everything to someone I don’t even know. I attempt to inconspicuously pull the curtain back and see a young woman in navy slacks and a pink sweater. When I see her face, I realize it’s Lisa and open the door for her to come in.

“Hey! It’s so good to see you,” she says, giving me a hug. After a few seconds I hug her back. I have to get use to her being a hugger. I’m definitely not used to her looking like this. She’s dressed more conservatively than I ever imagined, the piercing in her nose removed, and the eye makeup toned down drastically.

“I look like a real school teacher now, don’t I? It was open house today.” She chuckles, reading my mind. She walks over to the kitchen table and plops down in one of the chairs.

“How are you?” she asks as she searches through her bag and pulls out a pair of red Chuck Taylors and a pair of socks.

“I’m good. Just here watching TV until everyone gets home” I say.

“Coolness,” she says after she slips out of her old lady shoes and puts on her socks, she lets out a relieved breath.

“They’re over in Denton still, right?” She gets up from the table and grabs an apple juice out of the refrigerator. She feels much more at home than I probably ever will.

“For supplies, and Chris got called in to work today,” I tell her.

“Caylen’s sleeping?” she asks, pulling her sweater over her head. Right there in the kitchen. She pulls out a black t-shirt with some type of emblem on it and throws it on.

“Yup,” I say, trying to avoid looking at her as she changes. Out the corner of my eye, I see her pull out a pair of white skinny jeans. If she slides off her pants I’m going to faint.

And she does, right in the middle of the Scotts’ kitchen in front of me—a practical stranger—she’s changed her entire outfit.

This is Chris’ best friend.

“So how’s everything going?” she asks once she’s fully dressed

“Good.” I nod, not elaborating any further. I’m not sure what all Chris has shared with her about everything, but I’m not going into any details. She seems cool and laid back, but the stunt she pulled at the last dinner we had makes me think twice. Still, she keeps looking at me as if she expects me to say more.

“The Scotts are really nice.” Well that’s partially true. Mrs. Scott is really nice.

“Yeah they’re cool. They’re like my second family. They’re used to me as you probably can tell. You’ll get used to me too,” she jokes, taking a swig of her apple juice.

“What’s that name on your shirt?” I ask, hoping to change the subject.

“Ardeby’s. It’s the bar I work at. It’s pretty popular. Well for Madison, it’s pretty popular. I’m headed there after I leave here. You should come before you leave. How long are you staying?” she asks excitedly.

“The plan is to stay for three weeks.”

“It’s the most exciting thing going here, but the food sucks! I’ve been trying to get Chris to come down and play a set for the past year,” she says, pulling out her makeup bag. I forgot that Chris said he played the guitar.

“Is he good?” I ask curiously, and she smirks at me.

“You’ve never heard him play...Well,
Cal
play?” she corrects herself.

“No. Never,” I say, and for some reason, I feel embarrassed. I know I shouldn’t, but knowing there’s this huge part of his life I know nothing about, still feels like a kick in the butt to me.

“Follow me to the bathroom, Sweets. I need to fix this real quick,” she says as she heads out of the kitchen.

“Chris is really good, and I’m not just saying that because he’s my bestie. If he sucked, I’d tell you,” she jokes as I follow her into the bathroom. I lean in the doorway.

“That’s pretty cool.”

“He was in a band for a while until he started acting all bat shit and what not. Well, we thought he was just being an asshole then, but now I guess that was his condition” she says as she says applies a ruby-red lip stick over her thin pink lips.

“Hey what’s Cal like?” she asks as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’m a little caught off guard by her question. I shouldn’t be, since she pretty much displayed her naked body in front of me as if we’ve been friends for years.

“I—I don’t really feel comfortable talking about Cal,” I say honestly. I don’t know why, but it seems weird. She turns and frowns at me, then waves her hand.

“Come on. I’m going to be your new best friend and all. I’m sure you need someone to talk to about all of this. I don’t judge. Let it out, Sweets.” She laughs, and it makes me laugh.

“I think I’ve met him before, “she says casually, but it shocks the hell out of me.

“I’ve never said anything to Chris. I just kind of thought it was a joke, him going through a phase or something,” she says off handedly.

“When?” I ask, trying to contain my interest.

“It was years ago. We were in high school,” she says simply. “You know. His condition, they say, or I mean when I googled it, they say it can come from something really bad happening to the person,” she says, and her carefree jovial expression drops, her tone more solemn.

“Yeah.” I sigh as well. I’ve read about most conditions stemming from terrible abuse.

“Or a traumatic event,” I add and she nods.

“If Chris starts therapy, he’ll start to remember things, right? He’ll remember whatever caused this to happen?” she asks, looking up at me tentatively.

“I think that’s the goal.” I really haven’t stopped to think about what caused all this to happen. “Do you really think that’s best, if he’s fine and doing well? Who would want to remember something that terrible,” she says with a shrug.

“What if it does more harm than good?” Her eyes are set on mine now.

“Well, it’s not exactly up to me. I just. I want him to be whole. For Caylen,” I state to her, and she smiles tightly, her expression cheering up. She goes back to finishing her eyeliner.

“You said you met Cal before,” I say, bringing the topic back to the forefront. She chuckles.

“Yeah. It was the summer before our senior year,” she says shortly. It’s funny because this girl seems to elaborate on everything but with this subject, she’s short.

“You know him a lot better than I do. What was he like with you?” she asks. I twirl the ends of my hair and think long and hard before I answer. I don’t know if I should trust Lisa. Trusting people hasn’t been going that great for me, maybe if I tell her more about Cal she’ll tell me what she knows.

“I’ll tell if you do first,” I reason with her.

She turns toward me and rests her hand against the vanity and nods.

“Ok, it was only once. Well at least, that I know of for sure. He called himself Cal. He tried to sleep with me.” She chuckles, and my smile immediately drops. “Oh, no. Trust me, it wasn’t a thing. Chris and I are like siblings. Which was why it was so out of character for him, but he wasn’t like Chris. I mean, he was, but he wasn’t. He was this cocky and aggressive “I don’t give a fuck” version of Chris. Which was sexy, but he had Chris’s face. Don’t get me wrong, I know Chris is hot, but it was just too weird. And when he started telling me he wasn’t Chris, that his name was Cal, I thought he was high or something.” I can’t help but laugh at the last part. “If he had stuck around a little longer, I think we could’ve had some fun though.” She laughs and I smile nervously.

“Not
that
type of fun,” she assures me quickly. “We would’ve caused a lot of trouble. A bad ass Chris, me, and Aidan. This town wouldn’t have been ready for us,” she says, putting the last touches on her makeup. She definitely went from demure pre-k teacher to rock star bartender in less than 10 minutes.

“Chris has always been the moral anchor between Aidan and me,” she adds, closing her make-up bag. She puts it under one arm and then links her other with mine, pulling me from the bathroom as she leads way to the living room, but she stops when
Caylen’s room catches her attention.

“Oh my gosh! This is so freakin’ adorable,” she whispers, her eyes scanning it, and she must notice my bags.

“Are you staying here?” she asks in disbelief. I nod. A guilty and wide smile spreads across her face before she bursts into laughter. I shush her as best I can and push her past my sleeping baby’s room.

“No shit. I bet Jenna blew a gasket about that.”

“She and I didn’t get off to the best start,” I mutter.

“Did the witch try to hit you with her broom?” She chuckles, and I try to hide my smile. “Don’t put up pretenses for me. I can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual,” she says, walking into the living room and sitting on the couch.

“Why doesn’t Jenna like you?” I ask, but I think I know the answer to that. Lisa is just as blunt as she is and the opposite of being conservative. She’s a really attractive girl. I can’t blame her for being uncomfortable about their friendship.

“She thinks I’m secretly in love with Chris. Or that I want to screw him which is completely ridiculous. She tried to stop us from being friends. Complaining and whining to Christ after they became official. I’m glad Chris kept his balls that time and stood up to her, or I would have had to kick both of their asses,” she huffs. “If she only knew… me and Chris, we would be like a bad Jerry Springer episode,” she mutters. Aren’t all those episodes bad? “So your turn,” she says, squealing. Her excitement is contagious. She pulls me down onto the living room sofa next to her. I let out a sigh. I can feel myself blushing.

“Cal. I’ve been trying not to think about him.” I sigh, and she pats me on the knee. I don’t understand how you do it. I mean, I kind of can because the guy I met acted so differently it’s hard to think of them as the same person. “Why did you never tell Chris about Cal? Or mention it?” I ask her, and she shrugs.

“It was just one of those things, not to add super embarrassing. I was only seventeen and at the time I didn’t know he
really
didn’t know what the hell he was doing. The whole almost sex thing made everything awkward to bring up, and the next day he was back to himself like nothing had ever happened. I thought he was just embarrassed about me turning him down.” She laughs at the last part.

“And now?” I ask her, and her eyes widen.

“You can’t tell him Lauren!” she says urgently, and I’m a little caught off guard.

“I—I won’t,” I tell her. I don’t think it’s my place, but I can’t help but wonder why she wouldn’t want to know after everything has happened.

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