You Make Me (Page 54)

You Make Me (Blurred Lines #1)(54)
Author: Erin McCarthy

I could feel the blood drain from my own face. It was the deed to the house, which Brian had signed over to Heath. “Why…”

“Because he’s a dick!” Brian ripped the papers back out of my hand. “And when I told him I changed my mind, he laughed. He laughed at me. He told me he’d been waiting a long time to get back at me, but it was worth it.”

I felt sick that Heath hadn’t discussed it with me. That he hadn’t bothered to mention something as totally absolutely enormous as being the new owner of my childhood house. “Did he… pay for the house?” I didn’t see where Heath would get the money. It wasn’t worth much, but it wasn’t worth nothing either. More money than I owed in student loans, and those were terrifying enough. I couldn’t imagine Heath taking out a mortgage on a place that was a glorified shack.

“He gave me three grand. But I would have never agreed to that if I were sober. He took advantage of me.”

“Three grand?” What the hell? That was definitely screwing Brian. But I wasn’t concerned about Brian. I was wondering why my boyfriend wouldn’t tell me something that important. “Jesus.”

“I know. It’s nothing.” Brian’s expression changed. “Hey, where is that three grand? I bet Kerri has it. I need that. She better give it back to me.” He stumbled over to a closed door and started pounding, “Let me in! You can’t steal my money, you f**king bitch.”

Considering he’d been mooching off Kerri for who knew how long, I figured she had the right to at least half that money, but I wasn’t going to argue with him. “Leave her alone! You can talk to her when you’re sober.”

“That will be when I’m dead.”

“Well, that should be sooner than later the way you’re going,” I snapped.

He turned and his face cleared. “Hey, you know what we should do? We should go to Vinalhaven and burn the house down. That will f**k with Heath for sure. What does he want it for anyway?”

For all I knew, Heath wanted to burn it down himself. “I have no idea,” I told him flatly. “Come here, Bri, lay down, okay? You look tired. I’ll give you your whiskey back, I promise.”

“Yeah? If I lay down?” His words were slurring and when he turned, he almost toppled over.

“Yes.” I took his hand and pulled him to the couch.

He sank down, heavy, giving a sigh. He turned on his side, not bothering to draw his feet up onto the couch. “Kitty Cat?”

“Yeah, Bri?”

“I didn’t mean to get drunk at Dad’s funeral. You know that, right? But I hated him for always taking in foster kids. It made me feel like I was never good enough. I just wanted him to pay attention to me.” He was still holding my hand and his palm was sweaty, his grip urgent, face distressed.

I could actually understand that. Even when I’d gotten older and I’d understood my parents needed the money, I had resented having a parade of sullen strangers through our house. But I had always felt my father’s clear affection. He and Brian had never been tight.

My anger towards him eased just slightly. “Yeah, I know you didn’t mean to. You need to go to rehab, you know that, right?”

He made a ‘pfft’ sound with his lips, then closed his eyes and immediately started snoring. I tugged my hand out of his and sighed. Going over to the bedroom I knocked on the door. “Kerri? He’s asleep, you can come out.”

A minute later I heard the lock turn and the door opened a crack. Kerri was small, thin, pale. She was what most guys would consider plain, but her eyes were intelligent. I couldn’t even imagine what the hell she was doing with Brian. “Thanks for coming over,” she said.

“Has he done this to you before?”

“No.” But her eyes flickered and I knew she was lying.

“Where is the money? When he wakes up he’s going to be pissed if you don’t have it.”

“I don’t have the money. He spent the money. He went gambling at the casino in Bangor and lost it all.”

“Oh, shit, seriously?” I bit my lip. “That’s why he got loaded, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I think he had it in his head he would double the money or something stupid.” Kerri leaned on the doorframe. She was wearing red glasses, a flannel shirt, and skinny jeans with converse. She looked way too cool for Brian.

“Why are you dating him?” I asked her bluntly.

She gave a nervous laugh and glanced over to the couch. “I’m not sure how to get out of it at this point.”

“Next time just call the cops.”

“You want me to get your brother thrown in jail?” She looked appalled.

“He would be forced to dry out.”

“Unless I’m afraid for my life, which I’m not, I’m not going to call the cops,” she said. “I’m just being honest. He would be so angry with me it would come back to haunt me.”

I studied her. She clearly knew what she was doing. I couldn’t stand there and judge her. How did I know how I would react if it was my boyfriend? And maybe she thought I was a bad sister for turning my back on him. For cutting him out of my life.

Maybe I was.

“Okay. But you can always call me. I probably should try to make more of an effort with him.” I looked over at my brother on the couch and remembered when it had been just the two of us with our parents. Before mom was really bad. When dad had two hands. Brian had been annoying, as brothers should be, but we’d had fun together too.

But then I remembered that he had called social services and because of his actions, I had lost Heath and had my heart broken.

So I set the bottle of whiskey down on the end table, gave Kerri a tight-lipped parting smile, and left.

Chapter Twenty

It’s odd, what happens when you wait for someone. Whether it’s four hours or four days or four years. You start to fixate on them. Every thought revolves around them, and every thought circles itself, around and around and around. Time ticks by slowly, a hundred thoughts crowded into each minute, each drip, drip, of the faucet while you sit and wait.

Even when you’re not sitting still, when you’re walking and studying and living, when you’re waiting, that person never truly leaves your subconscious. It’s like walking around with ankle weights on. Each step is just a little more effort, even when you’re not aware of it. Later, when the wait is lifted, when you don’t have that emotional poundage on you anymore, you can’t believe you never noticed it before. You can’t believe you slogged your way through.