Page 92 of Surviving Slater

He was programming some new software that Sin needed. Apparently he had great logical thinking and programming had come easily to him.

"Just finishing some stuff up," he said, typing something before he closed his laptop. He set it down on the small table beside him. Standing up, he focused on me.

"That was Connor on the phone," I said, not knowing why I felt the need to say anything. He already knew it was Connor who had called me.

"He still playing the 'big brother' role?" he asked, walking to me.

"Yeah." It was the easiest excuse.

When he came to stop in front of me, my hands rested on his chest. I loved the feel of him. Actually, I was realizing I loved a lot of things about him. The way he frowned when he was trying to figure out a problem. The way he smiled when he looked at me like he wanted nothing more than to take me to bed. The way his hand threaded with mine, connecting us.

Every day I fell harder, and every day it got harder to keep the guilt at bay.

Sometimes Slater had nightmares where he called out his sister's name. He thrashed and groaned. I would try and soothe him but nothing I said or did would ease the pain he experienced while trapped in the dream. Usually afterward he would leave me alone in the bedroom and go to the living room to deal with it. I had tried to talk to him about it, hoping that would help him, but he wasn't ready to share what happened.

Three weeks later, it happened again.

I was lying in his bed, cuddled up to him, when he began to groan. I sat up and switched on the light, hoping it would wake him, but he continued to groan.

"Slater," I whispered, hoping to wake him up before it worsened. I shook him gently at first but when he called out his sister's name, I shook him harder.

"What happened?" he said, sitting up. I sat up beside him.

"You were having another nightmare about Shannon."

There was a heavy silence as he sat to the side, putting his back to me. I reached out and touched his shoulder lightly, trying to ease the way his shoulders bore the burden of what he was dealing with.

"Please don't," he said softly, brushing my hand from his shoulder. I dropped my fingers into my lap, trying to soothe over the hurt I felt at the slight action.

"It's always the same dream over and over again," he began to say, and I stilled. He had never spoken about them before.

"I'm trying to find her and when I do, I can't reach her." He let out an emotional breath and I wanted to hug him close but I stopped myself. "And then she disappears and I never see her again."

I felt the pain in his words. His sister was dead and he would never see her again.

"No matter how hard I try, I can never save her." I closed my eyes briefly as the pain of his words washed over me. I didn't know Shannon but I wanted to mourn her loss. The effect her death had on Slater was consuming.

He bowed his head for a brief moment before he looked back over his shoulder at me. It was hard not to reach out and comfort him. There was so much pain in his features but I resisted the urge to pull him close and tell him that no matter what had happened to him things would be okay.

He looked away and set his eyes on the window beside the bed.

"You always see those happy types of families with the white picket fence. Happy mom and dad, so in love. Their adorable children happy and loved. In the background is the family cat or dog."

I swallowed the emotion I was feeling. I knew what it felt like to look at my family and wish I'd had a father to complete it.

"I never had that. I was an unplanned pregnancy and when I came along my parents struggled to adapt to parenthood. Just because some peoplecanbecome parents doesn't mean they should. My parents are a shining example of that."

I put my hand on his back to give him some sort of support. He turned to his side to face me.

I didn't know the ins and outs of his childhood but it didn't take a genius to see the bad attitude and tough-guy exterior was built up from a young life of hard times and a lack of love and affection.

Or maybe it was the fact that I was injured by mine that allowed me to see the pain in others. The glitter of emotion in his pale blue eyes was enough for me to feel like I was going to shed tears. Seeing him like this was not easy.

"I think my parents loved me as much as they were capable of loving a child, and then a year later Shannon was born."

A lump formed in my throat and my eyes stung.

"There wasn't much we could do right. The smallest thing would set my father off. We always had bruises. When he lost his job when I was five, it got so much worse. He started to drink and spiraled out of control. My mother didn't earn a lot. I think that's when they started to resent us. Shannon and I only had each other. No one else cared. It was only when I went to school and saw other kids with their parents that I began to understand there was something wrong with ours."