Stepbrother (Sequel to Stockholm Syndrome)

54

A fear of my emotions engulfing me caused me to jerk away from Luke, struggling to unhook my hands from where they had been clinging onto his leather jacket.

"Madeline-" I was backing up and I knew, from the tone in Luke's voice, that he was warning me to stay put. I shook my head.

"What if I just keep running?" I questioned, angrily wiping away the tears that would not stop streaming down my cheeks.

"Don't," It came out as a whisper. He shook his head at me. Something in his gaze broke me. Unsure of the situation, I took another step backward. "Don't," He repeated his word, this time it came out with a lot more force, more of an angry command than a whispered plea.

"Why shouldn't I?" I whined. "There's nothing stopping me, the only thing keeping me here is you and I'm a burden to you."

"Don't say that."

"Is it not true?"

"It's as far from the truth as it comes!" His tone picked up, suddenly as fiery as his eyes. "What will it take to get you to understand that I don't see you that way? I never saw you that way. This relationship is a team effort."

"We're not doing so hot at the moment," I replied, not worrying how gloomy everything I said was coming off as.

"Madeline!-" Luke cut himself off. "I'm sorry," He said, lowering his voice. I shook my head, taking one step forward.

"Don't apologize, let it out," I instructed. "You have all this pent-up anger; I don't expect you to never get angry, no one's denying you that human function," I assured him.

"But there's no reason for me to be angry."

"Just yell."

"But-"

"Just yell!" I said again. "Do I have to force it out of you?" I started racking my brain for things that would frustrate Luke. "I threw out your cigarettes and your lighter. Not only was that an addiction you should have fought for yourself, but it was at least fifty dollars that went down the drain." I didn't stop, "I can't keep down my food. Some days I don't even try because I'm so tired. Be mad at me for that, be angry at my dad for the effect he had on my condition!" I took a breath. "I was horrible to Billy. You and I have such a messed up family that the best way you could think to introduce yourself was by throwing me in the back of a car. Your mom was abused by my dad, so she has to live in New Zealand! You never-"

"Ok!" Luke cut me off, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"Yell," I whispered.

"You want me to yell?" He asked, his voice rising. "Ok, I'm yelling! I'll yell if that's what you want me to do but that doesn't make me feel better. It doesn't make me feel better because almost every time I would come home, whether it be from school, a sleepover, a walk; yelling is all I would hear. Your dad yelling at my mom. Yelling at her about how 'slutty' she was even though the only time she'd 'done it' was when she made me or when your dad practically raped her. He yelled at her about how the house was never clean, even though it was spotless. He yelled at her about dinner, whether it was ready for him when he came home or not. He found anything and everything he could to yell at her about. And she just took it. Because if she didn't take it, he would hit her... or me. Yelling... Madeline, that's what I grew up on. That's what was happening when my dad was shot, that's what happened at school when the teachers lectured me if I acted out because it was the only way I could get out my frustration. I heard it so much when your dad was around. So, no, yelling doesn't help, it doesn't calm me down. Because all those monsters, all the yellers, all the screamers, I swore never to be one of those; I swore I wouldn't become that- someone so mindless that the only thing I could do when I was upset was yell. Yelling does not help me feel better," He stopped, his face red, chest heaving, eyes heavy. He balled his fists and rubbed his eyes in stress, sighing deeply. He opened his mouth, but I cut him off, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Don't you dare apologize for what you just did," I warned him. "There is nothing wrong with what you said or how you said it." He closed his mouth, which told me he had been ready to apologize before I cut in.

"Ok," He replied. "Can we go back to the house, now?" He asked, testing to see whether that would set me off trying to run again. I hesitantly nodded my head. As we walked back slowly, I didn't want him to touch me, but I wanted to know he was there. My pointer finger and thumb latched onto the sleeve of his jacket that was hanging off his hand and I held onto it firmly. He brushed his finger against mine a couple of times to acknowledge my action, but he didn't try to grab my hand and he didn't try to shake me off.

"I didn't do it. I didn't smoke," Luke murmured as we walked. He glanced down at me. "I wasn't sure if you thought I had or not, but I didn't. I haven't smoked since I was seventeen and four years was just too much time to break," He explained, his voice shaking a little.

"You're strong, Luke. It's not bad to be tempted. Luke nodded. It was quiet for a while, then he sighed.

"All this fighting started over a job application," He reminded both of us. I nodded.

"Luke, I don't want to be that. I don't want to be that type of family that gets torn apart because of something small like that... I know it wasn't necessarily a small thing, but, compared to other things, it is. And if we can't handle this, there are other issues that could come up that we won't be able to survive."

After that, a long silence overtook us as we walked. It felt like months had passed before we reached the front porch. There, Luke stopped and very gently pulled me back before I could retreat inside the house.

"Madeline, please, hear me." I took notice of the way he was asking for me to hear him opposed to only listening to him. I nodded. "The last thing I want is for you to feel trapped here. I know that probably sounds like bull crap considering how you started out here, but I mean it. I don't want this house to be your prison and I don't want to turn into your dad. You shouldn't feel stuck in... in your own home. If you want to get a job, I'll support you, but you need to understand that you are not a burden to me, and I have no financial issues when it comes to you. But, again, if you want to get a job... who am I to stop you? Who am I to stop you from doing anything? You're an adult; you've been taking care of yourself since you were little; you can do whatever you want. You know the boundaries I've laid out to be followed when you're under my roof, but I don't think anything you do is going to come near to breaking any of those. I don't want to hold you back and I don't want this to resemble anything like your home life." He paused, rubbing his fingers together in a nervous habit. I nodded.

"I love you, Luke," I said, even though I was pretty sure he knew that already. "You aren't my dad and you never will be... Thank you."

As sappy as the entire conversation sounded, it was all truly something that had needed to be said and I think we both felt much better afterward. He hugged me and kissed the top of my head before I turned to go inside. Turning, I asked him if he was going to come in as well. Luke shook his head.

"I'm going to stay out for a little while longer... take a walk or something... think." I nodded in response, telling him to be careful before I went inside. I'd never imagined anything could put someone of his height and strength in danger.

I was wrong.