Trust Issues (Book #1 of the Defy series)

Chapter 2: Shadows (Aliyah POV)

Trust Issues (Book #1 of the Defy series)

Aliyah:

The car is silent, the only noise came from the persistent humming of the motor. I eased out a shaky breath, my hands tightening on the solid black steering wheel. We hadn't said a word since we left the party and that had been at least fifteen minutes ago. I was surprised I hadn't flown off the handle yet, and I'm guessing Marco was too. I assumed since he kept glancing at me almost nervously.

It's not like I just yell the roof off when we get in these types of situations. But I usually scold him, stressing how dangerous it was. But that doesn't seem to be getting through to him or his idiotic friend Bruno in the back seat. 

This time more than anything I'm disappointed, he's old enough to know right from wrong. And especially during a time like this where his family needs him. I just thought he would be more considerate.

Or maybe I'm expecting too much from him? 

That thought causes me pause. 

Oh - gosh, what if I am?

When he does things like this, it hurts, like I'm being stabbed in the heart. Especially since I'm the one who practically raised him.

Is it my fault he turned out like this?

I find myself gnawing on my bottom lip. As I raise my right hand to rub my forehead; I could feel the early signs of a headache coming on. Basic adulting skills were something I had to teach myself, and the instructions are pretty unclear. What if my incompetence affected him? You are a product of your environment.

I focus my attention on Bruno. Chancing a backward glance; he seemed to be a little more aware now. That was good, I could work with that.

"Ms.Jones, please, please, pretty please don't tell my mother! I won't do it anymore!" Bruno rubbed his hands together in a pleading motion. His desperation was clear in his tone of voice. He seemed panicked and flighty; like at any moment he would open the car door and jump out even though we were moving.

I knew that Bruno's mom was desperately trying to keep Bruno off the streets and from ending up like his older brother - in jail. But Bruno was dead set on following my brother Marco and their other little "friends'' into harm's way. His mother was tired of it and I was tired of it.

I finally talked for the first time since I re-entered the car.

"Bruno. Please. I know that telling your mother will inherently change nothing. She can't control you anymore. I can't control you at all. You have to decide if you care enough about what your mother wants. So I won't tell your mother where you've been and what you've done."

The look of relief on his face was clear. As he let out a huge gust of air and settled back into his seat. Rubbing both hands through his short and curly hair.

"I won't tell your mother. You are."

As I pulled into his driveway I watched as the air left his sails. He took on a defeated demeanor; shoulders sagging. I didn't get any satisfaction from this. This broke my heart, seeing my brother and a kid I've worked with throw away their potential on a bottle and some loose change. Allowing people to walk over them and take advantage of their youth.

He slowly opened his door and got out. I watched as he entered his house and shut the door before I pulled off.

And Marco took that opportunity to turn completely towards me. His eyes held accusation and... Hurt? I refocused my attention to the road but I could tell Marco was getting ready to speak.

"Just say it already! No need to drag it out. Marco, you need to be more responsible! You have a family Marco. What can I do better Marco? Marco why are you acting like this and what can I do to help? Come on Aliyah just say it! Get your overdramatic speech done and over with; so we can both go back to respectively minding our own business!", Marco was breathing hard by the time he finished his rant. His mocking tone burning with each dig.

The words cut deep as I stared ahead at the road and oncoming traffic. As I stared ahead at the road that led to nowhere.

But I just ignored him.

I know that's an elementary tactic of defense but right now I was vulnerable. I felt like he held more power over me, which is a feeling no one wants to have. And if I spoke I was at risk of saying something I regret, so I chose complete silence as my weapon of choice.

"Really classy Aliyah! Real mature and adult of you!" He fake applauded me, the anger and spite in his voice causing me to wince internally.

"What do you want me to say, Marco? Huh? Why are you so mad? Did I do something wrong? I really don't know..." I let my question hang in the air.

An uncomfortable silence enveloped the tight space in the car. I waited for Marco to answer but he didn't. So we rode the rest of the way home in a quiet that spoke louder than any words.

Marco was angry at me, Marco hated me, and Marco didn't want me in his life.

All this was abundantly clear as we pulled into our driveway and even before we were at a complete stop he opened his door and got out. Slamming it so hard the car shook.

And I just sat there, alone, as I watched his dark-clad figure stomp into the house. He shut the door behind him and he even turned off the porch light. Leaving the front lawn covered in darkness. A darkness that welcomed me and my mind with open arms. And for the first time in a long time, I let my tears flow. Silent tears that left a bitter taste in my mouth as I dug my nails into my hand.

Why was this my life? Why does no one like me even when I give them my all?

Was my all not good enough?

Was I not good enough?

My thoughts strangled me as I sat alone in the dark car. I could barely breathe through the thickness of my sadness. I was sweating; my clothes were practically clinging to my skin. I slightly opened my door; allowing the cool breeze to graze across my heated skin.

The moonlight reflected off the hood and I marveled at it - at this light that continued to shine even when this inky darkness resided in every corner of my subconscious. Casting a heaviness in my limbs that made me not even want to leave the car and enter into our small house. To face people that needed me even when they most likely didn't want me.

But I did leave eventually because I had to.

I didn't have the time to sulk around hoping for something different. Because time didn't stop just because I was tired.

And the responsibility didn't just unchain from my ankles because it was too heavy. It simply added more chains and restraints that kept me further from freedom. I was a prisoner to my own thoughts and a prisoner to that house and the people in it.

I know that it wasn't their fault.

But the people whose fault it was had escaped freely from punishment. And the unfairness of it all consumed me every day.