Carrie

 

After all those years of feeling I had nothing to live for but a disgusting excuse for a brother who made me do things that no girl should ever do, I suddenly have a whole world in front of me.

I love wandering through the fields every day – especially today.

Especially since there was a knock at the front door this morning and I had to sign for a parcel with my name on it. I had to ask three times to make sure the courier was sure, but there it was in print – Carrie Wells – my name right over the address. I stared at it for ten whole minutes before I opened it, and when I finally tore into the box it took my breath.

A new pair of boots in just the right size. The delivery note said from Jack and Mike, you earned them with a string of kisses underneath. I still have it in my pocket. I don’t think I’ll ever take it out.

I love feeling the mud under those new boots as I set off across Jack’s beautiful farmland with a load of planks on my shoulder and a hammer stuffed down my waistband. They feel just perfect on my feet, as though they were made for me. Just like Jack and Mike are.

I’m nearly done with the fencing, but that’s okay now, because I’ve a chicken coop to make and a sheep pen to make after that, even if Jack hasn’t quite said yes yet.

He will.

I know he will.

I take a breath as I check out the clouds. They’re the fluffy white kind that turn into pictures the more you stare at them.

I see a rabbit, and a dragon. And a cock.

I laugh as I see a big white cock in the sky.

I laugh as I realise I’ve got everything I ever wanted, all right here. I laugh at how bizarre that feels, to have so much after having so little.

I laugh until happy tears stream down my face, and it’s a release. A beautiful release.

I’ve never cried happy tears before. Plenty of sad ones, but none like these.

We could be together forever – Jack, Michael, and me. Last night chased all those final fears away – the ones that cling on tight and won’t let go – because I know now that they really do love each other, and it’s more than friends, even if it’s not like that. Now I know this can work, properly work, because there’s nothing left to freak them out and send them running. There’s nothing more I’ll ask them to do, not unless they want it for themselves, because they’ve touched dicks and tongues and came all the same, and what else could possibly happen by accident? Nothing.

Anything else that happens will be because they want it, but it won’t be me pushing. It’ll be all them.

I can breathe this morning because I feel safe. Safe knowing Michael and Jack can handle this. All of this, and all of me. Even if I can be a brat sometimes, although I don’t have even half of the smart mouth I used to have.

They’d put me over their knees if I did, and that would be no bad thing either.

I drop my planks at the right spot and get to work on fixing up one of the worst panels, glad that this is one of my last ones and not the very first ones I started, because I’m so much better now than I was then.

In every way, not just with fences.

Maybe all things happen at the right time. Maybe this was the last fence I came across, because I needed to learn about the other fences first. Maybe life has a plan like that.

Maybe I had to know what it was like to have no love at all, just so I can really appreciate having so much of it.

I’ve got so much of it I could burst.

More than enough for Jack and Mike and some chickens and sheep, and maybe some ponies and dogs too. I grin at the thought.

This is really it. They’ve seen the worst of me and now they’re seeing the best of me. I’ll put myself on the line for them just as they put themselves on the line for me.

I breathe a sigh of relief that the nerves have finally left my belly after all this time, smiling as I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.

I wonder which one of them it is.

Maybe Jack with a stupid joke, or Mike checking how I’m doing with the fence.

But it’s neither.

And the nerves are back in one terrible heartbeat.

Eli.

He wants his money and his text makes it perfectly clear.

His words make me shiver.

You owe me.

The attached photo makes my heart race. A picture of the centre of Lydney.

He’s here.

Oh my God, he’s really here.

But he doesn’t know Jack. He doesn’t know where I live now.

I try to force the nerves away but they won’t budge an inch.

All the filthy things I did for him come back to pool in my belly. They make me feel sick. I used to think it was okay before I knew what real love felt like, but now I know it isn’t. It never was.

What he did to me was cruel and disgusting. The way he made me use my body for him was a world away from how Jack and Mike make me feel.

I don’t care that he’s my brother anymore, or that he’s holding family news over my head. I don’t care that I may never get to see them again if I don’t do what he wants. If they wanted me, they’d have found me long ago. If they still believe his lies after all these years then I’m better off without them.

All the years of making excuses for him in the name of love seem so stupid now. All the lies I told to protect him. All the lies I told myself because I wanted to believe he loved me.

But love isn’t like that. Eli doesn’t love me and never has.

I wouldn’t reply even if I did have any credit on my phone. I wouldn’t go looking for him if he was on fire and I had the only bucket of water.

I hammer the last of the nails into the plank I’m holding and then I stop. The countryside that felt so open and free feels too open now. I feel too exposed here. Far too exposed.

I gather up my things and head back to the house, thanking my lucky stars that I’ve only got a few hours left before Jack and Michael get home.

Maybe tonight I’ll finally reach out and talk. Maybe tonight I’ll tell them everything.

I just have to trust they’ll still look at me the same way if I do.

 

For the first time since I’ve been staying here, I bolt the back door behind me. I never lock it, not even when I’m in the fields, but today’s not like the other days.

I dump my new boots on the mat and tell myself that TV might not be so bad for one afternoon, just until Jack and Mike get home.

I’m just grabbing myself a coffee when I feel the shiver in the air. It’s not cold. It’s different to that.

A sixth sense. A shudder in my mind.

And then I know. I sense him before I smell him, and smell him before I see him, a waft of weed hitting my nose from the dining room doorway.

He props himself in the frame like he owns the place, hood up high so his eyes look even darker than usual.

“Made me fucking come for it, didn’t you?”

I play it cool, just like always. “Had no fucking credit on my phone, nor bus fare either.”

He looks about the room and I hate how he ogles everything. “Landed on your feet here. Fucking some posh guy so I hear. Whole shitty town is talking about it, a silly old bitch directed me right to your door.”

“I’m working here,” I tell him. “I’m fixing fences.”

“Fixing fences and sucking dick,” he sneers. “Have you missed mine? I bet you fucking have, you filthy little bitch.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snap.

“Shame,” he says and takes a step forward, “since you owe me pretty big, I’ve been charging interest.”

“I’m not paying you interest,” I say calmly. “I’ll give you your fiver and the money for the food when I have it, but I don’t have it, so you’ll have to fucking wait, Eli. You’ve wasted your fucking time.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks and I fold my arms.

I flinch as he clears the kitchen island with one sweep of his arm. The fruit bowl tumbles and smashes on the tiles, the bottle of olive oil crashing into a stool and dribbling its contents everywhere. “Whoops,” he says and laughs as I can’t hide the horror.

“Don’t!” I hiss. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Just a job, is it? Doesn’t look like just a fucking job to me.”

He takes the clock down from the wall and smashes it under his foot. Swings a stool against the wall until the plaster chips and the legs buckle.

I clench my fists and then I go for him, screaming blue murder as I launch myself onto his back. I rip down his hood and claw at his scalp, my legs gripping him tight as he tries to shake me off.

When he throws us both to the floor I lose my advantage. He’s so much bigger than me, pinning me down as I wriggle. His grip is tight on my wrists, his fingers digging in so tight I know he’ll leave bruises, but I struggle all the same.

“I came for my fucking money,” he snarls, “but you can pay with your dirty cunt if you like.”

“I don’t fucking like,” I hiss. “You can fuck off me.”

“You fucking want it,” he says, but I don’t.

Not anymore.

I don’t even think I ever did.

I used to think Eli was just a boy, but the body bearing down on me is anything but.

He holds my wrists in one hand and tugs down his waistband with the other, and it’s so tempting to close my eyes and pretend I want this.

Pretend I’m the dirty girl he always said I was.

But I can’t.

I’m Michael and Jack’s girl now, and only theirs.

I only want to be theirs.

I get one chance to strike and I strike hard, shunting my knee up full force into his crotch.

It works. He rolls to the side with his hand over his dick, cursing at me as he flaps around like a fucking fish.

“I’m your brother,” he wheezes. “Your fucking brother, Carrie. I’m the only one who fucking loves you. The only one who fucking cares.” He rasps another breath. “You think this guy here loves you? You think he fucking wants you like I do?”

“He wants me more than you do,” I tell him. “He loves me. Properly. Not with a pathetic little sausage dick like yours.” I point to the front door. “Now get the fuck out before I call the cops.”

He staggers onto his knees. “You fucking wouldn’t.”

“I fucking would,” I say. “Don’t fucking try me.”

He laughs. “Just as well I already found what I’m looking for. You took your time getting back.”

My heart drops when I see the envelope in his hand. I already know what’s inside there, but I open the kitchen drawer anyway.

“Give that back!” I hiss, but he slips it back into his pocket.

“For my time,” he laughs, but it’s so much more than that.

That envelope is thick with money. Thick with Jack’s money.

“Give it!”

“Fuck you, Carrie Wells,” he says. “No wonder Mum and Dad hate you, you’re nothing but a filthy little cunt.”

Tears prick. Stupid fucking tears.

Not just for the hold he keeps over me, but for the money I know he’s going to be walking out of here with unless I want to risk him slamming me down and taking my body along with it.

“I hate you,” I hiss.

“You love me,” he laughs. “I’m your brother. I’ll always be your brother. And I’ll always be your first. Don’t ever forget that!”

I hate that he’s my brother.

I hate that I ever fucking landed in his family.

I hate him even more when he trashes everything he can on his way out. He pulls a knife and slashes at the sofa in the living room, the curtains too. He kicks at the display cabinet and glass showers the floor along with the new piece I’d bought for Jack. He puts his foot through the big TV and laughs when he does it.

And I stand and watch without fight, because for the first time in my life I have something to stay in one piece for, even if they’re going to hate me for what they think I’ve done to their house.

He smashes the mirror in the hallway on his way out. “See you around, slut,” he says and slams the door behind him.

I don’t even know where to begin with cleaning up this mess, so I don’t.

I don’t even know how I can begin to explain what happened here, so I think about leaving before they come back, but I can’t bring myself to do that either.

So I sit.

Sit and wait and think about all the reasons I hate my twisted brother.

I don’t move when a car sounds on the drive a few hours later.

And I don’t move when someone steps inside either.

I’m done.