Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
She brushes her long, brown bangs out of her eyes. Her hair has always been so silky. I wanted to run my fingers through it that day. I’d wanted to pull the cute little bun she’d been wearing down and massage her scalp. Now I want to pull that band out of her hair and see it fall around her shoulders. Yeah, her naked with just her hair down standing in front of me. That’s an image that I’ll see again tonight in the shower.
“Pouring water in the radiator,” she mutters as she holds up the cap and moves to the trunk. She pulls out a gallon of water. All that time spent watching me and her brother fix cars when she was a kid taught her the basics of what’s under the hood.
Why is she driving this piece of shit? Elliot bought her a damn good car when she graduated. Her parents had already passed by that point, so we put together the cash to get her something nice. Only she doesn’t know that I bought half that BMW.
We got her the new car, so she’d have something reliable as she cruised around town. We wanted the best when it came to safety ratings, and that’s what she got. Now she’s riding around in this rust bucket that looks like its wheels are about to fall off in a sudden wind gust.
“Stop,” I grind out the word, angry that she’s been in this unsafe vehicle. She could have been hurt at best and at worst, well, I can’t think about worst. Because if I think about the worst-case scenario, I’ll lose my shit. “I’ll drive you to my place and get this thing towed over there.”
I expect her to argue with me but the expression on her face is pure gratitude and relief. Just what the fuck is going on with my best friend’s little sister?
2
CHARLIE
The moment I’m in Brody’s truck, my body relaxes. Maybe it’s the scent of his spicy cologne or the way his big frame fills up the cab and makes it feel small. Either way, something in me finally eases. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’m safe. Brody may not be attracted to me, but he would lay down his life for me in a heartbeat.
I still remember the first time I saw him. I was only eight years old, but my little heart knew that I was looking at the most handsome boy in all of the world. Even though he was covered in blood with a black eye and a shoulder that was twisted at a funny angle.
“Just put it back in, pussy,” he’d griped at Elliot as he leaned against the hood of an old Toyota Corolla the two of them were tearing down and rebuilding.
“If I put it in wrong, you’re going to wish like hell I’d never touched you,” Elliot said. I’d seen a lot of my teenage brother’s expressions, but I’d never seen this one. His eyes were round, and his jaw was tight. When he reached for Brody, his hands shook.
It was then I’d accidentally kicked an old spray paint can and it rolled across the garage floor, alerting the boys to my presence.
Brody spotted me. Sweat beaded his upper lip and the pain in his gaze left me feeling scared for him. I didn’t understand what was wrong with his shoulder, but I knew that most people weren’t supposed to hunch at that angle.
“Hey, kid,” he practically panted the words as he squeezed his eyes closed against another wave of pain. “Go into your fridge and get us two of your old man’s hard lemonades.”
I was halfway to the kitchen when I heard Brody’s muffled cry of pain as my brother put his shoulder back into place.
Later when Brody was gone, I tried to talk to Elliot about what had happened. He’d shaken his head and said softly, “Sometimes, Brody’s mom isn’t nice to him.”
“Like when Dad yells at you?” I asked, my mind puzzling over this new information. My dad and Elliot often yelled at each other. Looking back, I can see they were just dealing with the usual drama that comes from a boy trying to grow into a man.
When Elliot laughed, it was a broken sound. “It’s not even close to the same thing, runt.”
“He could live with us then,” I suggested. Our parents loved us fiercely and would have welcomed Brody in with open arms if Elliot only told them the truth.
“Not that simple.” My brother blew out a long breath. “Doesn’t matter anyway. In a year, we’ll both be in boot camp.”
The truck jolts as Brody hits a pothole in the road, and the unexpected motion jars me back into the present with him. His mom died about a year ago. I called Elliot and asked if I should go to the funeral, but he told me not to. Somehow, I’d already known that would be his answer. Brody is a private person, and it’s not like he would have grieved in front of me anyway. Still, I wish I’d been there. I wish I could have gone and offered him some comfort.