Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 103537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“Remember where you sang to me?”
He opened his mouth to answer and I put my finger over it. His eyes darted to the closet and I nodded. My head spun and it took a second before I could focus again and continue. “For months . . .” His eyes widened and I knew he understood that whoever was in the closet, had been fucking with me for months. Ream and I often finished one another’s sentences; he knew where I was taking this.
“Like Mom.”
He put his head in his hands. He knew. Our mother would get high then have sex with whoever was at the house. Most of the time I never saw who the men were as I stayed hidden.
I nodded to the closet then to the dresser where the gun lay. “I can do it,” I whispered. “You have to leave. Olaf will find you and kill you if you do it.”
Olaf hated Ream. I wasn’t sure why, maybe because he saw the threat in Ream. But this was our only chance. The path we were on had changed and the only way out was to kill Gerard. But I had to be the one to do it, not Ream. I’d never let him carry that with him.
But my brother dove for the closet like he was flying through the air, and there was no gravity. “You disgusting piece of filth. I’ll kill you.”
Gerard moved fast for his size as he ducked under Ream’s fist then kicked out, sending Ream crashing into the hangers, then to the floor. Gerard’s feet thudded like drums across the bedroom and I knew where he was headed.
“Ream, the gun.”
“She’s worthless, just like you are. Garbage.” Gerard had bulk, but it was fat bulk, and Ream was lean and toned, although he was only sixteen and still lanky. I grabbed the bedpost, using it for steadiness as the dream-like euphoria mixed with the reality of what was going down. Fear churned when I saw Gerard’s intent and panic slammed into my head.
“No. No.” I scrambled from the bed and landed hard on my knees. The sensation was like I’d fallen right through the floor and bounced back up.
Gun.
Gun.
Gun.
I didn’t know if I said the words aloud, but they were screaming inside my head over and over again.
Gerard dove for the dresser, but Ream had gained his feet and was right on top of him. His fist connected with the side of Gerard’s head. His body went down like a rock and a loud thump vibrated through the room. I attempted to climb to my feet, uncertain what I was going to do, but knowing I had to move. I had to get to the gun.
“You’re dead. You’re fuckin’ dead.” Ream didn’t go for the gun that had slid off the dresser onto the floor; instead, he grabbed with both hands the solid stone statue that we had found in the trash on our way home from school a few months earlier. It was heavy, too heavy for me to lift, but Ream had carried it all the way home because I said I liked it.
“Ream!” Fear skidded into me as he raised the stone gargoyle above his head. He straddled Gerard, who was laying on the floor with his hand to his head as if dazed. The consequence of killing Gerard was death. Olaf wouldn’t allow my brother to live.
Ream’s face was a mask of red, lips tight, brows dangerously low over his piercing dark eyes. “Ream. No.” I had to be the one. This was my fault.
I crawled through the quicksand, making my way to the gun on the floor while tears streamed down my face. Ream didn’t look at me. It was as if he didn’t see anything except Gerard.
“You’re dead, kid.” Gerard tried to push to his feet.
Ream slammed the statue down on his skull. I heard a sickening crack then a thump as Gerard’s body slumped back to the floor.
“Ream! No. You can’t.” It had to be me. I had to be the one to do it. But it was too late as I watched him raise the statue above his head again then smash it into Gerard’s head.
Blood splattered the faded and torn flowered wallpaper, my mind playing havoc with me seeing the beauty in the mist of red. But somewhere inside, I knew it wasn’t beauty but ugliness and this was going to be the end, not only of Gerard but of Ream and me. Yet the meaning of the end, I couldn’t decipher.
My cries were lost to the crushing sound of the statue connecting with bone. I curled up on the floor, the drug and what I witnessed too much for my mind to handle as I trembled and shook. Warm tears slid down my cheeks, feeling like heated wax as they dried and stuck to my skin, then new ones glided overtop.
I had no perception of time, but eventually, the blows stopped. I squeezed my eyes shut, arms hugging my legs to my chest.
“Angel.” Ream’s voice was a strangled cry of despair. “Fuck. Angel.” His hand stroked my head, pushing my hair back from my face. I heard the slight catch in his throat and it tore into me like a knife. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Leave. We have to leave.” I was too screwed up to say anything more, but I opened my eyes briefly and saw blood speckled across his face like spray paint. I quickly shut them again, trying to block out what was happening, what all this meant for my brother.
“I know.” Ream lifted me off the floor into his arms. My head hung limply over the back of his arm, and I was too weak to pull it back up. He shifted me in his arms until I was cradled against his chest, my head resting on his shoulder.
I choked on a sob that was lodged in my tightened throat. We had nowhere to go and no money, and I was a mess. I couldn’t go two days anymore without being completely strung out, needing Gerard and the drugs he brought with him.