The Broken (5 page)

S
ave her?
What was she talking about? Save her
from what? Fuck, I can still feel the warmth of her pussy against
my stomach. I could have dry humped her against the wall, but
instead my bitterness overtook me. What was she doing? She’s with
Danny now. I’m turning back into the needy fucker that left four
years ago. I would have walked over hot coals for that girl. Save
her
? I was the one who needed saving after she tore my heart
out and handed it to Danny to stamp on.

“Yo, Sammy, why
did a soaking wet River just storm through here like a hurricane?”
Jasper asks, poking his head out the back door and looking over at
me, still standing in the same spot she left me in. “Does this mean
no pasta? Because I passed on the pizza and now I’m starving.”

I shake my head
at him. “I can boil pasta. It’s not rocket science.”

Turns out it’s
not as easy as I thought. I’m supposed to use boiled water, not
cold, and apparently I didn’t leave it long enough when I
eventually put it on the stove because it tastes like rubber.
Jasper gives me the evil eye over the table for upsetting River and
costing him a real meal made by her. I push my plate away and chug
the rest of my beer to wash the pasta down.

“Well, look who
learned to cook,” my mother slurs.

She walks
through the front door, leaving it open as she strides into the
kitchen. She dips her finger in the sauce and smiles. “This is one
of Twinkle Toes’s huh? Didn’t take her long to start molly coddling
you again, Sammy.” She shakes her head with a distasteful look
plastered on her aged face. “That girl has the cheek to judge me!”
She points her finger at my face. “She was crawling in and out of
your bed since she was twelve years old, the little tart.”

I stand from my
chair, making it screech across the floor. “She needed comfort! You
know what she went through with her mother killing herself.”

She gives a
bitter laugh. “Comfort. Is that what the kids call it these days?”
She turns to Jasper, smirking.

“It was
innocent, Mother. Get your mind out the gutter. Some people can be
around each other without getting naked you know? Maybe you should
try it!”

“Where’s the
fun in that Sammy?” She sniggers. “Is that why she jumped into
Danny’s bed? Weren’t you up to it, Sammy? Women are just like men.
Sex is comfort and your
comfort
clearly wasn’t enough for
her she needed to get it from your friend.” Her dark laugh sent
chills down my spine.

“You’re such an
evil bitch, do you know that?”

She hoots at
me. “Calm down, Sammy. If it makes you feel any better, she’s not
happy. She’s always sniffling in that back yard. God, her crying
keeps me up some nights, she’s a mess. No wonder Keith left them.
Her and Blaydon are a right messed up pair. You kids always talk
about us being better parents, but did you ever stop to think if
you lot were better kids then maybe Janet wouldn’t have killed
herself, Keith would still be around, and I wouldn’t need to drown
you out with alcohol?”

My jaw drops to
the floor. Did she really just say that shit to me? We’re good kids
considering we raised each other. She’s making no fucking sense as
usual. Jasper stands and walks over to her. “You know what, maybe
you should have done what River’s mom did because you are a waste
of air, you spiteful, old, wrung out bitch.”

She twists her
face into a sneer. “Get out of my house,” she spits at him, and he
laughs.

“This isn’t
your house no more, bitch.”

She shoves past
him and staggers up the stairs. I wait for her door to slam, and
then relax my tense shoulders. Jasper put her in her place while
I’d stood frozen from her hateful mouth. I’m grateful to have him
here.

We met in
freshmen year of college and clicked straight away. We’ve roomed
together ever since and become more like brothers then friends.
Jasper’s mom died when he was a baby, so he was raised by his
father; a loving, stable parent, so Jasper didn’t understand just
how bad my mother can be.

I clear the
dinner plates, then put Jase to bed. I slump down on the couch and
grab the remote, flicking through channels. My thoughts go to River
and what my mom said about her always crying. I felt my chest
tighten when she said that. Was she miserable? Did she regret
choosing Danny? Does she ever think
what if
like I do?

I open my eyes
and realise I must have fallen asleep. My back is stiff, and some
late night live poker crap is playing on the TV screen. Jasper must
have already gone up to the spare room, the jackass, leaving me
bent up on here asleep. I rub my hands over my face and stretch to
my feet. I need water. My mouth feels like moths have flown in and
set up camp. Leaving the tap to run so the water gets cold, I
notice the light on in next door’s yard, then River floats across
the wooden platform, her body moving like flowing water, so natural
and fluid. Fuck, I really am growing a vagina. She stops moving and
clutches at her chest, dropping to her knees, a strangled cry
ripping from her body, making my stomach twist into a painful knot.
I shoot out the back door, hopping the five foot fence that
separates our yards. I fall to my knees when I reach her and pull
her into my lap. She gasps from the shock of me being there, then
relaxes her body into me, gripping my shirt and climbing my body
until her face is buried in my neck, her body shaking from her
sobs.

“Shh, it’s
okay, baby. It’s okay.” My hand strokes her back, the other holds
her head to my neck. When her body finally stills and her breathing
evens out, I realise she’s cried herself into exhaustion. I scoop
my arm under her knees and cradle her back, rising gently to my
feet. I carry her into her house and fumble my way through, opening
the doors without disturbing her. When I reach her room, I don’t
recognise it. There’s nothing left of the childhood bedroom I
remember. The walls are now painted white, not the pale pink they
used to be, and there are no posters. Her dance medals are nowhere
on display, in fact, the room lacks any of River’s personality.
It’s bereft; only a bed and a dresser with a chair in the corner
fills the space. I lay her sleeping form down on the bed and look
at her as she snuggles up to the pillow and sighs.

Damn, her face
is all red and blotchy from her tears, but she’s still the most
beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. My eyes travel down her body like
the fucking pervert I am, thinking about what’s under those shorts
she has on. She fell apart in my arms tonight and here I am perving
on her tight, sexy little body while she sleeps. I’m acting like a
pussy-starved teenager. I watch her body lift then relax with every
breath, reminding me of all the times she curled herself into me
when she would sneak over at night. I remember the first night she
ever stayed with me; I’d heard her crying on the steps to her
house. She rushed me when I walked up the garden path, coming home
from a date I didn’t want to be on, but River was too young for me
back then, and Blaydon would never have understood my feelings. Her
face was blotchy red, the same as tonight. When her small frame
collided into mine, I instinctively wrapped her in my arms. “She’s
gone, Sammy she left us.” Her voice was shaky and her body held a
constant tremble.

“Who, Twinkle
Toes?”

She released
her hold on me so I lowered her to her feet. “Momma. She killed
herself.”

I felt her
grief, I shared it with her, and took her inside and up to my room.
I laid her down next to me and held her all night while she
cried.

I blink back
the memories, exhaling loudly, and rubbing my hands through my hair
I reach for her lamp and turn the light off, close her door and
leave.

S
ammy consumed my dreams last night; I had once again
found myself in a heap. Memories holding me hostage playing images
of my sixteenth birthday over and over, overwhelming me, reducing
me to sobbing in the back yard, but this time felt different; this
time he had come to hold me. I broke. I’d waited four years for him
to hold me again, and I poured my tears into him and prayed he
would heal me. I dreamt it was him who came by that night four
years ago, and not Danny.My phone vibrates, pulling me from the
bed. I walk over to the dresser already knowing who the text is
from. I know because he texts me at least ten times a day to tell
me he loves me. I swipe my finger across my cell; Danny’s name
highlights the screen.

River, I
miss you and love you, my beautiful girl.
My stomach rolls when I read his words. My dad used to call me
beautiful, and it’s my pet name from Danny, too. I hate hearing it.
Danny loves me, but it’s an obsessive, intense, terrifying love.
Whenever he feels low, or threatened by any male attention I
receive, he goes into a depression or a rage. Either mood results
badly for me. When he gets into a rage, he tells me he would rather
kill me than let me go, and with his tight grip wrapped firmly
around my throat as he says these things, it’s a threat I know one
day he will probably carry out; erasing me from this world, leaving
me as nothing more than a memory in time, in someone else’s mind,
an echo, a whisper, a ghost.
When he gets depressed, he showers me in affection. Unwanted
affection. He’s always so gentle when it comes to sex. He caresses
me and whispers he loves me, and I tell him I love him back because
he needs me to, but I never participate in the bedroom. I let him
have my body, but he can’t have my soul. My soul is broken,
shattered into tiny pieces. Fragments of my former self that faded
away when Sammy’s face did, four years ago. My thoughts go back to
Sammy. Seeing him yesterday I felt like he had brought some of the
pieces of me home with him, igniting a flame inside a body that had
been absent of any heat for a long time. I take a quick shower then
slip into a pair of black skinny jeans, and my K’s Motors work
polo. I brush my teeth, scoop my hair up into a low braid, and grab
the milk from the fridge. I noticed yesterday that Sammy had failed
to pick any up. I knock on Blaydon’s bedroom door to check he’s up
for work and I receive a grumble, “Yeah I’m up.”

Smiling to
myself, I cut across the lawn to find Sammy’s front door unlocked.
When I walk in, I find him sitting on the couch wearing nothing but
a pair of boxer briefs. My step falters and my breath catches. My
eyes rake over his muscular physique; soaking his almost-naked form
into my memory. He’s so beautiful my heart aches thinking of how he
comforted me last night.

“Hey,” I say,
startling him.

He jumps up,
holding a hand over his heart. “Fuck, Twink! You gave me heart
attack! Do you know how early it is?”

He looks to his
bare wrist and his brow twitches when he realises he isn’t wearing
a watch. I can’t help but smile, and let my eyes molest his flesh.
His boxers leave little to the imagination; they grip his hips just
below that perfect sculpted V that men have when they’ve worked
hard in the gym. His skin holds a bronzed tan, complementing his
ripped physique. God, he’s divine. His little brownish pink nipples
stand to attention on his hard, tight pecs, his six-pack tensing
with every breath he takes. I feel myself contract between my
thighs.

He tips his
head to the side and smirks at me, his messy, dark hair falling in
his face. “Would you like me to turn around so you can ogle the
full package?”

His voice
penetrates my ears and blood roars through my veins. I’ve totally
been caught. I could act dumb or…

“Actually,” I
say, then reach into my pocket to pull out my cell phone. I swipe
the screen and hold it up in front of me. “That would be great, let
me get the front first, though.”