Page 29

Laney slumped against the foot of her bed. She felt like a city bus had parked itself on her chest, a bone-deep exhaustion caving in her ribcage.

It was after 2:00am before Sarita finally managed to drag Cary into his bedroom, the hall filled with distinctly pornographic noises shortly thereafter.

She’d known Cary would come home eventually. He showed up every month or two, wreaked havoc on the house, on Dustin, on her, and then disappeared back to the apartment above his shop.

She hated him when he was like this. He had That Look, the one that made even his friends edgy and nervous. The one that usually ended in broken glass or worse.

She wished Ma were home.

Ma breezed through two or three times a year, tearing up her wardrobe, complaining that nothing fit because she was too fat now, sucking back everything with alcohol in it but her expensive perfume while throwing things and yelling at her and Dusty so hard she’d spit.She’d palm whatever cash was around and waltz back out, back to whoever her latest boyfriend was, and leave them to pick up the pieces. But for all her faults, she was the only one who could keep Cary in check.

Ma and Cary avoided each other like the same sides of a magnet, both of them too intense to exist in the same space. If Cary wasn’t home, she treated Laney and Dusty like houseflies buzzing around, only worthy of being cursed and swatted at. But when Cary and Ma were home together , Ma was different.

She watched Cary. And she hovered, especially over Laney. Sometimes she’d tell Laney to sleep in Ma’s room with her, patting the bed and braiding Laney’s hair.

Cary watched Ma, too. They never spoke directly to each other, a prison-like unbreakable glass wall between them that had been erected long before Laney could remember. They edged around each others’ space like it was toxic gas. It frayed everyone’s nerves, but Cary usually cut his time at the house short and disappeared sooner than later. Once Laney had skipped school for two days after he left, so weary from the palpable tension in the house and four sleepless nights that she had collapsed into bed, only able to rise to pee. Dustin had spoon-fed her soup from a can in bed.

It was still better than being alone with Cary.

Cary had pointedly ignored Shane for the entire night, but she could feel her brother’s awareness of him, darkness slithering behind his eyes. It was like the air warped around Cary, sucking the energy out of the room, feeding the invisible monster in him.

Laney had done the only thing she knew how. The only thing that had ever worked, other than Ma’s watchful presence. And she hated herself for it.

She hated the small touches on Cary’s arm, the soft looks, the lowered voice that nobody else could hear. She made herself all for him. Nobody else existed. See, Cary? I’m your sister. I’m yours. It always made her feel queasy and shameful.

She wanted to explain to Shane. Didn’t want him getting… the wrong idea. But she’d forced herself to ignore him, to tune out his presence entirely.

It had been far from a raging success.

Her body was too aware of Shane, the look on his face in the driveway – before the interruption – a distraction she couldn’t afford. But after several hours she guessed she'd done well enough, because Cary had finally relaxed a little. He leaned back into Sarita, stroking her bare thighs, and Sarita had taken the opportunity to whisk him away down the hall, glaring at Laney behind Cary’s back like it was some kind of twisted competition.

You can have him , she thought. She had disappeared downstairs and collapsed onto the floor in her room the moment he’d walked away.

There was a small creak outside her door and she sucked in a breath. Cary wouldn’t come to her room, bedrooms seemingly one of very few things he respected as private. She knew it was Shane. She could feel him, on the other side of the door.

“Come in,” she said softly, and he slid inside, closing the door but then pausing, and cracking it back open a few inches. She fought a smile.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” she whispered back.

He palmed the back of his head before letting out a loud, audible breath and sinking to the floor across from her. Her room was so small that there was only a few inches between their feet, flat on the ground, her back against her bed and Shane’s against the wall.

“I got a job,” Shane said unexpectedly.

“You can’t work for Cary,” Laney hissed.

“Not with Cary. With Jerry.”

Oh.

Laney inched her feet towards him so their big toes were touching, but he pulled away a fraction. She frowned.

“Shane – ” she started, but he cut her off.

“This thing, with us. It won’t happen.”

Won’t happen.

Not can’t happen or shouldn’t happen.

Won’t.

He’d already made the choice, and he’d made it without her. Her stomach churned.

“It’s not what you think,” Laney said in a rush. “Cary… he’s just… he’s always been like that, okay? He – he usually only sticks around for a few days, and then he’s gone again. He’s protective, he – ”

“Cary isn’t protective. Cary is possessive.”

You’re not wrong.

“I know. I know… But…”

“Does he hurt you?” Shane’s words were dripping with venom.

Laney sucked in another breath.

Cary’s hand on the back of her head, pressing her mouth to the kitchen floor, hissing in her ear to eat off of it and then maybe she’d be bothered to mop once in a while.

Cary’s knee in her back, shoving her against the wall, accusing her of stealing his money.

Bruised wrists, backhands, two bloody noses… And a concussion, when she’d good and truly blown up at him and tried to kick him in the balls after Milo, the stray orange tabby she’d been nursing to health, had appeared dead in the gutter out front, his little neck broken…

“No,” she forced out.

“You’re lying,” Shane seethed.

“What do you want me to say, Shane? He hasn’t touched me in a while…”

The air was sucked out of the room at touched me, and she could hear the crack in Shane’s knuckles, feel him vibrating with something that ironically reminded her of her brother.

“ Hit me,” she amended. “He hasn’t hit me in a while. Okay?”

Shane just breathed loudly, in and out, for at least two straight minutes. “Dustin?” he finally asked, his voice tight. “His leg? The cast?”

Laney frowned. “I honestly don’t know what happened. Cary was home when he broke it, so maybe. I was at school. But Dustin says it was an accident and won’t say anything more than that. He doesn’t lie to me. He never lies. But I just… don’t know.”

Shane shifted in the dark, scrubbing his face with his hand, still breathing heavily.

“I can’t be here, in the same house as that guy. We’ll fucking kill each other. But I can’t leave you alone with him.” He pinched his nose with his thumb and his forefinger. “Why is he even here? Clearly he doesn’t give two shits about either of you…”

“It’s his house,” Laney breathed.

Shane froze. “I’m sorry… did you just say…?”

“He owns this house.”

“Your mom?”

Laney shook her head. “She lives with boyfriends. She used to shuttle us around with her, but it got old, for them. They keep her around longer without us taking up space. When I got older…” she flushed “Ma didn’t want me there. Around them. Anymore.”

“Define older.” His voice was deadly.

“Eleven.”

“JesusfuckingChrist, Laney!”

“Nothing happened!” she whisper-shouted. “Nothing has ever … happened. Not with anybody. Never.”

“It didn’t occur to you at any point in the past month to mention that this is your psychotic drug-dealing older brother’s house that I’ve been crashing in without permission?”

She wasn’t sure how he’d put together that Cary was a dealer so easily but didn’t ask.

Laney didn’t know what to do. She could handle shitty teachers and principals. She could handle ogling men. She could handle assholes at school. She could handle Ma, and Cary’s friends, and she could even – to some degree – handle Cary. But she had no idea how to handle Shane.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him and pull him close. She wanted to tell him that Cary would leave in a few days. She wanted to taste him, feel the hardness of his body wrapped around hers, crawl under his skin and wear him like a fucking coat until she knew he’d never leave. But she knew she couldn’t touch him. Not now, not like this. He was too pissed off, too upset with her and with Cary and with himself…

“Honestly Laney, part of me gets him.” There was coldness in his voice that made her shudder. “Every male north of Eagle Street had their eyes on you tonight. It was… a problem for me. You’re still so young, and you need to be protected. But you’re not… you’re not a kid, anymore. People are going to notice you. Men. They are noticing you. He doesn’t like it, and neither do I.”

“I can’t help that men notice me,” she spat. “What am I supposed to do, huh? I wear double-x sized men’s shirts for godssake. It was Halloween. Did you even see what Cary’s girlfriends were wearing? I covered myself from neck to toe! What else do you expect me to do?”

“You can cover yourself up all you want, it won’t do you any good.”

“It certainly didn’t with you, did it?” she snapped. “What would have happened tonight if we hadn’t been interrupted? Huh? ”

He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up off the ground. Standing in the dark, his face a shadowy silhouette, the moonlight barely streaming in through her tiny basement window illuminating his profile, he stared her down – chest heaving. She felt small. The smallest she’d ever felt in her life.

“A moment of weakness.” He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “It won’t happen again.”

“Shane,” she said frantically, “I don’t even really know why we’re fighting! I didn’t…”

But he turned and walked away.

Look how easy it is for Cary to win.

Cary always won.