Suffocate

Chapter 21

Kailum texts me on Saturday morning, asking me where I am. Fluttering my eyes open, I come to realize I'm still in the arms of Sapphire, the girl who doesn't know how to let a wounded man sleep in peace. She had tossed and turned all through the night. I thought I was gonna pass out, considering she had kneed me in several sore places more than once. She better apologize when she wakes up.

Kailum texts me again. My phone buzzes on the light pink nightstand beside me. With my left hand, I reach for the phone, grasping at it before it can continue to buzz any louder.

Where are you? the text reads. Why aren't you home?

Sapphire stirs beside me, moaning into my shoulder. I glance back at the text messages, tapping on the keypad lightly.

Girlfriend's place, I respond after a moment. A second goes by when Kailum replies.

Did you say anything to her? I narrow my eyes at the text.

How can I tell Sapphire anything? She's my girlfriend.

The red-haired, teenage girl who knows how to make my heart heavy, is lying next to me, breathing lightly in the warmth of seventy degrees.

There's no way I can tell her anything now. Not yet, at least. There's no chance . . . The black shine of my phone's slick case glares at me. I stare at my own dark reflection with squinted eyes.

Life doesn't plan on being simple for me, it seems. Well, that's just awesome.

Did you tell Mom? I ask Kailum. It's a stupid question, I know. We both know it. Who would tell Mom anything? What'll it matter to her? Would she care, though? I don't know what she'd say, or think . . .

Regardless if he did tell Mom, Kailum and Kade are blabbermouthsーchatter-boxesーif I'm being honest. They'd tell anyone anything, just because they like the attention.

In my case, I don't want to tell anybody a word about my life. Who needs to know beyond what I tell them? It's my business. That may sound like total bullshit, but this is how things are.

Kailum refrains from replying back immediately. He ends up sending a simple "no". I don't bother texting him any more than I already have, so I set my phone down on the nightstand. I settle back into the sheets next to Sapphire, who presses herself against my back once I reclaim my former position beside her.

I wonder when she plans on waking up. It's not like I can go downstairs and fix myself breakfast while her parents are already up at nine-twenty-five in the morning.

My stomach rumbles just as the thought of having French toast and bacon with a nice, cold glass of orange juice crosses my mind in a fit of hunger. Dammit, I'm starving.

I lightly squeeze Sapphire's arm. She swats at my hand, but I persist in squeezing her while whining.

"Saph, 'M hungry . . ."

Sapphire groans. Her brows furrow and her face scrunches into a displeased frown. How can she look so annoyed even when she's sleeping? Sapphire's expression causes me to smirk at her brazenly. I poke at her exposed belly.

"Baby, 'M hungry," I repeat. She snickers. Saph turns to face the other direction, purposely grabbing the blanket covers to shove them over her body. I pull away the covers, searching for something to bite at. I nip at Saph's exposed shoulder. "Feed me," I beg her.

Sapphire sighs dramatically, which makes me break into a laugh.

"God, Bryson!" Saph discards the blankets and pushes against me, trying to shove me off the bed. "Move. I'll get you food. Damn."

I smile. My arm wraps around her thin waist, so I tug her near before she gets the chance to leave the bedroom. I run my finger along her bottom lip, taking them with my own. Saph's hands come up to my face, curling around my cheeks as she squeezes me against her.

"Morning to you, too, Baby," Saph's whispers to me.

***

There's only one place to go after breakfast with Saph. Home.

Home, the place where I go to take a seat in the living room on a beat, leather couch, so I can sort through bills and mail; to put away groceries in the kitchen; to help my sisters with their homework and see them off to bed. Home is where I stay when I can't abandon my sisters.

I'm trapped. If I leave, the outside attacks me. Yet, if I stay, there's much worse waiting for me inside.

That old hunk-of-junk I call a house is the only place for me and my siblings. It has to remain standing up for our sakes. If I abandon it, who will keep it running?

So home is where I go.

***

"Why are you here?" Marissa asks me at our front door. Her arms are stiff at her sides and her curly hair is flung over her shoulders. I stand my ground as I look down at my sister.

"Why do you think, Mare?" I ask her. My forehead creases in frustration. I will myself to pull my features into a softer approach. "I'm your brother."

"You're a liar," Marissa snaps. The claim stings, but there's no denying it. I nod my head slowly at her. She's not wrong.

"Fine." I hold my arms out. "I'm a liar." Marissa scowls. I clench my jaw.

This is something I have to do. I cannot run away anymore. With a release of breath, I proceed to speak on a semi-spiritual level with my sister.

"I don't lie intending to hurt you, Mare. I do it to protect you." I step closer to the front door, bringing my arm up to rest against the frame. "Trust me when I say there is shit you don't want to know," I whisper to Marissa.

Marissa stares me down with her green eyes. She blinks several times before clearing her throat.

"Ahem," she coughs. "Trust me when I say this, Bryson. I am grown enough to handle whatever it is you don't want me or the rest of the girls to know. Do you really think so little of us?" Marissa asks seriously. I shake my head.

"Mare, please! Reason with me here. What else am I supposed to do? What could I have done?—" I shut my mouth for a second because think, Bryson. They don't know, for a reason.

Marissa shrugs at me. "What are you talking about, Bryson? By now, you should be spilling something to me," she says irritably. I can sense it in her eyes—she's not liking this. Treating me this way, that is what she doesn't like.

I get it. I understand. But, the only way for me to fix this, is for me to tell her the truth. Not a half-truth this time. I have to tell her the real, undeniable truth.

How the hell can I possibly do that?

I run my hand through my hair roughly, blatantly aggravated. Glancing around our neighborhood, I notice there aren't many people out. The lack of an intrusive audience gives me a little sense of relief.

"Mare," I say just above a whisper. Marissa looks at me expectantly. I utter a shaky breath, willing myself to take baby steps until I'm a little closer to her. Reluctantly, I reach out for her hand, grasping it. She doesn't pull away from me. While I'm slowly registering her cooperation, my heart rate slows to a normal pace again; just barely.

"Let me in. I'll . . . I'll tell you."

Marissa squeezes my hand. Next thing I know, she's pulling me in through the front door of our house.

I hope this won't kill me.