Chapter Thirty – Braden

 

When she's lying in my arms, like she is now, she's vulnerable.

Only, I didn't realize just how vulnerable she was until last night. I also didn't realize how strong she was, how much fire is in her.

I look down at her. Her hair is fanned across my pillow, and her lips are parted slightly, her breath crawling over my bare chest. She looks peaceful when she's sleeping, like there aren't a thousand demons running around in her head and her heart. Like she isn't protecting herself from anything and everything.

My hand moves from its resting place on my stomach, and I smooth hair away from her face. She sniffs and moves closer to me, causing me to pull her even closer. My lips press against her forehead, and she slides an arm across my stomach, her fingers brushing the bare skin above the covers.

I'm not sure when I started to care for her so much. It could have been the day at the beach when she told me about her Mom, or it could have been when she went crazy at that girl in the cafeteria – when she went badass. It could have happened during one of our crazy make out sessions, or maybe it was while I was pretending to focus in English while I played with her hair.

Or maybe it was there all along.

Maybe I always cared about her, and I just buried it under sex.

I don't know. All I know is, now, I do care, and the game is becoming something more. It's becoming more real than anything I've ever known. It's becoming something I can hold on to. Something Maddie can hold on to.

I'm something she can hold on to.

“Good morning,” she says in a sleepy voice, yawning and rubbing at her eyes.

“Good morning, Angel,” I whisper softly. “How are you?”

She pauses for a second, her green eyes clouding over. “I'm not sure. I feel good, but I feel bad too.”

I kiss her forehead again, smoothing out her furrowed brow.

“I did the right thing yesterday, didn't I?” Her voice is full of doubt as her eyes travel up to mine. “Telling him no? Not helping him.”

“I think so,” I answer honestly.

“He is my brother, though.”

“Hey.” I tilt her face up. “You had a reason for saying no. He's obviously put you through something so bad that you don't feel like you can help him anymore. That's okay, Mads. He can't keep taking without giving you something back.”

She nods. “You're right. Everything he's put me through....” She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I won't do it anymore. I won't be a doormat.”

I stroke her hair because I don't know what to say.

“I was five when I met Abbi. She was my first friend in kindergarten. We went through school together, right up until high school,” she says suddenly, breaking the silence between us.

“You don't have to-”

“No, no, I do.”

“Okay, Angel.”

Her eyes glaze over, and a small smile plays on her lips. “We did everything together. We were literally attached at the hip. If Abbi started a ballet class, I did too. If I quit and tried gymnastics, Abbi did too. That's how it was. Everyone said we must have been separated at birth because we were so alike, so attached to each other. I thought we always would be.

“When Mom died three years ago, Abbi was my rock. As my world fell apart and Dad got depressed, she was there to help me cope. She'd be there after school every day, cleaning and helping me cook. After Mom, I was the only one that could cook a decent meal – and since Mom had taught us both to cook, it made sense that she would help.

“But it changed when we started senior year. I knew that one day it would change. Maybe we wouldn't go to the same college or one of us would get a serious boyfriend. Well, one of us got a boyfriend. It wasn't me, and I didn't expect Abbi's boyfriend to be my brother.

“Pearce lost it when Mom died. He'd already been at high school for a few years when she was killed, so he'd been going to parties and stuff. He'd been trying out drugs, playing here and there, since he was about fifteen or sixteen, probably, so it was an easy vice for him to turn to. He sank deeper and deeper, going more and more into the habit, trying stronger and stronger drugs. Dad was too broken himself to stop him, and Pearce ate up his college fund from Mom doing drugs.

“So, yeah, I was surprised when Abbi and Pearce started dating. I mean, we were both honor roll students, so it was an absolutely cliché good-girl-falls-for-bad-boy scenario.” Maddie pauses, collecting her thoughts, and I carry on tracing my finger along her arm. “He seemed to treat her kind of well at first, I suppose. He'd be a jerk when he needed a fix, but he'd buy her flowers and stuff to apologize after. I tried warning her off, after all, I'd seen him spiral downwards, but she was determined she could save him.” She rolls her eyes. “Save him. It was the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. In my mind, the only person that could save Pearce was Pearce. I'd tried talking to him after Mom died to no avail. I tried over and over until I couldn't do it anymore. Mom always said you couldn't help someone unless they wanted helping. That was her mantra since she worked with addicts.

“But Abbi wouldn't listen. At all. So, I went with her to his parties. She'd never admit it, but she was grateful. She wasn't a fan of his friends – neither was I, mind you, but I'd never let her go into that by herself. I'd been going to them for about two months, somehow keeping up honor roll while Abbi dropped it, when it all kicked off one night.

“Pearce didn't have enough cash on him to pay for his fix. The prices had gone up because his dealer's supply was getting low, and he didn't know. Pearce was at the stage where he needed a fix, badly, and when it all got crazy, Abbi tried to calm him down. He swung and caught her in the face. She went flying across the room. Her nose was gushing blood, and I ran straight to her side. Pearce didn't care. He just wanted his next fix. That was all that mattered to him.

“I ended up coughing up the extra cash, and it was the worst thing I ever did. He took it that since I helped him once, I'd do it again. He didn't seem concerned he'd hit Abbi – I still don't know if it was deliberate or accidental, but I do know it wasn't the last time.”

“Did you stop going to the parties?” My muscles are taut at the thought of her being in a place like that.

She nods. “I went to see Abbi the next day and told her I wouldn't go anymore and that she should break it off with Pearce. She refused. She told her parents she'd slipped on some ice and hit the pavement and that's why her nose was bleeding. It was November, so No one batted an eyelash at it. I felt terrible. I was letting her go to those parties by herself. It wasn't long before she was there as much as Pearce, although she never actually touched the drugs. She'd just have a few drinks.

“Over the next six months, she seemed to have an extra bruise every time I saw her. Whenever I asked her, she'd say she fell down the stairs, got pushed into a wall, or slipped in gym. Pearce pleaded innocence when I confronted him. He said he didn't know what she did when he was getting his fix. Slowly Abbi became someone I didn't know. Where she was once outgoing, carefree, and extroverted, she folded into herself. She became weak and dependent on my brother. And frightened. She was so scared of him. I would hear them arguing all the time, but I reminded myself she chose that. She chose to be with Pearce.

“I tried talking to her one last time, a last-ditch attempt to bring her back, but she wouldn't have it. Whatever it was Pearce had done to her, he'd broken my best friend.”

I hold her tighter to me when I feel her start to shake, and I know what she has to say next won't be good.