Two Strangers of Brothers

Chapter 16

I slowly trudge down the stairs, muttering under my breath as I try to think up some kind of apology that might make my brothers forgive me for what I said. Even if I did hate him, it's better being the hater than the one being hated.

I finally step off the stairs and eye the back of my mom's head. "Mom, do I really..." I trail off as I notice my mom shaking, balled fists hang at her sides. She looks ready to kill someone, and this is all from just seeing the back of her. "Mom, are you okay?" I ask hesitantly, going to stand by her side.

"Julie?" My head snaps toward the door where I see a man standing. His hair holds a lot of gray, but strands of blonde can be seen. He blinks a couple of times but keeps his clear blue eyes on my mother, his mouth hanging open slightly in astonishment. My eyes study his features and he looks familiar. I search my newly found memory for his face.

Dad.

"You." My mother spits the words out of her mouth with such hatred and fury that I take a step away from her. She continues to shake with fury and I place a hand on her shoulder, stepping closer to her again to stop her from attacking the man.

"Jamie?" My father looks at me, his wide eyes crinkling as he gives me a small smile. "I haven't seen you since you were five."

"Don't look at him! You don't deserve to," my mother screeches, her hands coming out to shove me roughly behind her. I fall backwards, landing awkwardly on my wrist. I cradle it to my chest staring up at my mom fearfully. She's never laid a hand on me as the new her. It was only old her that ever hurt me.

Someone gasps off to the side and I turn to see Isaac and Andrew, who I hadn't noticed before. Drew's lip trembles along with the rest of his body and I can see the panic building up in his eyes as he stares fearfully at my mom.

"Hey now, don't hurt him, Julie." My eyes go back to my father. He has his hands up in a surrender kind of way, and his eyes flicker between me and my mom.

"I'm not going to hurt him, jackass. He's my son." She roughly yanks me to my feet, her nails digging into my skin as she squeezes my wrist. "We're leaving right now. There's no way I can stay under the same roof as this piece of shit." She stares angrily at my father as she speaks.

I look down at my wrist she's holding, knowing there would be a bruise tomorrow. I gently try to tug free only to have her tighten her grip on me. I wince as I watch her draw blood. "Mom, I need to get my stuff."

"No. We're leaving right now," she hisses, pulling me towards the door.

"Mom no—" I'm cut off by the stinging of her palm against my face as she slaps me. My head spins slightly and I reach up to touch the cheek she hit.

"Don't talk back to me."

"I'm not going to just let you take him, Julie, not the way you're treating him." My father takes a step towards us and my mom throws me towards the wall, placing herself between my dad and I.

I hit the wall with a thud, unable to really catch myself with the wrist that was hurt due to her clutching and me falling on it and the hand that still touches my cheek. My head hits the wall with a whack and I groan.

From the corner of my eye I watch as Andrew falls to his knees, his teary blue eyes on me. "It's happening again," he whispers. Isaac drops to his knees as well, but only to wrap his arms around Andrew. He won't come and help me because if he does he'll have to leave Drew. He won't though, because he loves him. He loves him and he doesn't love me.

"Dad, Mom won't let me go to Stacey's party. Will you please talk to her?" A young girl about the age of thirteen comes striding through the door, her blonde hair hanging down her back and her eyes on the phone in her hand. She doesn't seem to be aware of the situation around her until she looks up and notices me leaning against the wall and Andrew and Isaac on the floor. Her brown eyes turn to her dad in confusion.

"Claire, go to your mom. Go wait in the car," he tells her slowly, not taking his eyes off my mom, who stares at the girl hatefully as she does the math in her head. By the murderous look in her eye I can tell she's calculated the girls age and about the time that dad left us. It doesn't help that a woman with a short brown hair in a bob cut and brown eyes comes wobbling in, her hand on her pregnant belly.

"Is this the bitch you left me for?" My mom glares at the younger woman. The woman seems to know who my mom is as well as she takes a step back, reaching her hand out to grab her daughter. She's not fast enough, because my mom's hands are tangled in the girl's long blonde hair in seconds. "And is this your daughter? Oh, she's so pretty." The little girl screams, dropping her phone to try and scratch at my mom's hands.

"Let her go," the woman screams, pushing my mom. She keeps a protective hand wrapped around her round belly.

The push isn't hard, but it's enough for my mom to release the girl. My dad draws the blonde in, picking her up. The young girl cries and he strokes her hair soothingly.

"Get out now!" he screams, blue eyes blazing. My mom spits at him.

"Gladly," she turns to me, yanking at my arm again.

"Leave him," my father says, grabbing one of my shoulders and pulling me out of her grip.

"No. Legally he's mine and you can't be near him!" she screams, stomping her foot.

"He's eighteen. An adult, and if you're really worried about legal matters, take me to court." With that he gently pushes me behind him, shielding me from my mother's anger.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around me and I turn in them to see Isaac, his green eyes stare down at me and he places a kiss on my forehead before he's guiding me to where he left Andrew.

The blonde still sits on the floor, and he's crying, but he holds his arms out for me nonetheless. Isaac places me in his arms and Andrew squeezes me tightly.

"I'm so sorry," he sobs into my ear. He nuzzles his face into my neck and I feel his tears wetting my shirt. Isaac wraps his arms around both of us, moving some of my hair away to place a kiss on my ear.

I don't forgive them, but it feels nice to be held by them again.

"Don't worry. She's gone now." My dad kneels down next to us, the girl still clinging to him. She's a bit big and too old to be carried, but he doesn't seem to mind as he holds her anyway. "She's gone now," he repeats gently.

I nod weakly, resting my head on Drew's shoulder. I keep one of my hands on my still stinging cheek, but the other one goes out to touch Isaac.

Yes, she might be gone, but that still doesn't solve the problem of where I'll go. Isaac made in painfully clear that they don't want me here. Even if they were saying sorry, it's just a word, and they could be lying just like they did when they said I love you.

No.

I won't believe them so easily this time.