Tortured

  I couldn’t see the look on his face, but his voice gave nothing away.

  “Your family moved a few years ago,” I said, not sure how to sum up a lifetime in a few paragraphs.

  “Yeah, Texas. I’ve talked to them already, and they all seem good. Still crazy, but good.” He worked half a smile into position.

  “See? Some things never change.”

  “But most things still do.” He rose from his seat after a moment, moving toward the opposite wall. “What about your dad?”

  His question caught me off guard. I was prepared to talk about Brecken, not myself. I needed to talk about him, not myself. “He died. Almost four years ago. It was a heart attack.” It all came out in one breath, leaving me breathless at the end of it.

  Across the corridor from me, Brecken was quiet, his back toward me.

  “It’s okay. I’m fine,” I added.

  “No, it’s not that.” His head shook stiffly. “I’m just trying not to show my relief. I know I’m supposed to give condolences or say I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  My hands tied together in my lap. “He’s gone.”

  “I thought about you while I was over there. All the time.” He picked through the tangle of ivy choking the brick. “I worried about you a lot too.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You worried about me?”

  “I worried about you being here, alone, with your dad. If you were still living in the same house. If he’d gone back to hurting you.” He moved down the wall, searching through the web of ivy. “I was desperate to get back to you to make sure you were okay. And now I can see that you are. You got out of that house, away from that man, years ago. You’re safe.” He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. “I’m not supposed to feel relief that your dad died, but damned if I don’t.”

  What I wanted to reply with unsettled me, so I rose from my seat and cleared my throat. “I should get back. Crew had to leave for his shift, and I should check on Keenan to make sure he’s not pushing down any more bullies.”

  Brecken nodded, still searching. “You’re raising him right, you know?” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes connecting with mine. “Evil is nothing more than the result of good turning its head. Don’t teach your son to look the other way.”

  My throat bobbed. Brecken might have looked like half the man people remembered him as, but to me, right now, he was twice the man I remembered. “I won’t.” I moved to the opening in the fence. “It’s in his blood.”

  Before I ducked through it, I heard Brecken make a noise. When I glanced back, I found him clearing a patch of the wall he’d just uncovered, ripping vines of ivy away. I’d forgotten about the initials he’d carved into one of the bricks the summer before his senior year.

  He stared at it for a minute, his brows furrowed. “Some marks can be hidden.” He ripped another ribbon of ivy, his eyes finding mine. The cloudiness in them receded for a moment. “But they never disappear. They go too deep to be erased.”

  “Unbelievable,” Crew muttered again as he glanced out our living room windows again, adjusting his tie. “The house right next door. How’s that for subtlety? Not that Connolly ever knew the meaning of subtle.”

  I was in the kitchen, making Crew’s lunch for his shift. He liked roast beef on rye sandwiches, the same kind my dad had preferred. I couldn’t stand the taste of either, and the smell twisted my stomach as I rushed to stuff it into the baggie.

  “How’s him moving back here such a big shock?” I asked, watching Crew glare out the window at the house beside us that had been empty for months. Not anymore.

  “The house right next to the woman he was planning on marrying?” Crew’s neck rolled, cracking. “The shock is him spending six years in an Iraqi prison and still having whatever balls he must have left to think he can just move in on my territory.”

  “It was the only house for sale on the block. It wasn’t like he had some evil scheme to live right next to us.” When Crew’s head twisted back, a warning drawn onto his forehead, I drew a smile to the surface. “I’m sure he’s not trying to move in on your territory. He’s just trying to get back to his old life the best he can.”

  Crew’s dark brow arched. “His old life you played the starring role in.”

  Instead of confirming or denying it, which would be a trap either way, I went back to packing his lunch. It had been a couple of weeks since the homecoming party, and I hadn’t heard a single thing from Brecken since I’d left him staring at our initials on that brick wall. Rumor was that he’d been through an endless stream of debriefings back in Washington, but I didn’t know if any of that was true. Wherever he’d been, whatever he’d been doing, he was back. Like he’d never left. Moving into the house next door.

  The longer Crew stood at the window, the redder his face went. Thankfully he was going to work tonight. He clearly needed to distance himself from what was happening.

  “What happened to grabbing a couple of beers and catching up? You two used to be friends, you know?” I said, tucking a napkin into the paper bag.

  “And then I married his girl. He doesn’t want to be my friend. And with the way he’s clearly planning on making his play to win you back, I sure as shit don’t want to be his friend either.”

  “He’s not trying to win me back,” I said, stepping into the living room and setting his lunch on the table next to his briefcase.

  “What makes you so sure? Because this looks like trying to win you back.” Crew’s arm flailed at the window as if Brecken was standing right outside it with my name tattooed on his chest.

  “Because I can’t be won back.” I checked the time. Ten minutes. Crew was a man of habit and left for his shifts on the dot. “I’m with you.”

  “I know that. You know that. But he clearly doesn’t.”

  “He’s been through a lot. I’m sure the last thing on his mind is rekindling some flame with his high school girlfriend.” I rolled down the sleeves of my sweater as I approached him.

  “He hasn’t been close to a woman in six years. Believe me when I say rekindling whatever he can with you so he can shove his dick somewhere inside you is on his mind.”

  “Crew—” My gaze flashed up the stairs, making sure Keenan wasn’t lingering up there in silence like he sometimes did when we were having a “talk.”

  “Six years. That’s enough to make a man desperate enough to do just about anything to get off.”

  “Sex? You really think that’s all that’s on his mind right now?” My arms folded as I stopped a few steps away from him.

  “What do you think’s on your hero’s mind? Affection? Redemption?” Crew huffed, not blinking as he stared out the window.

  “Stop calling him that.”

  “What? Your hero?” Crew’s tone was sarcastic even though his expression was serious. “That’s what he is, isn’t it? What he’s always been? The guy who stepped in to save you from whatever you needed saving from? The one you went to when you needed something?” His head shook as he pointed out the window at Brecken, who was carrying a box up the walkway slowly, like it was a chore. One of the guys helping him move in whisked by him with a bigger box, his pace ten times that of Brecken’s. “Some fucking hero you’ve got right there, Camryn. Some fucking hero.” Crew’s hand snapped out from his side, capturing my wrist. “What’s he got to save you from now?”

  I swallowed, letting Crew drag me closer. “Nothing.”

  “That’s right. You don’t need him anymore. You’ve got me. To save you. To give you what you need.” Crew’s pinkie traced a line down the inside of my wrist. “To take care of you.”

  My soft smile held, despite everything inside me starting to rattle. Something was coming. I could feel it, like a wild animal could sense a storm coming. It was a survival mechanism for those beasts of nature, just as mine had been honed to keep me alive.

  Crew tugged me closer as his head moved toward mine, his mouth settling beside my ear. “Get on your knees.”

  The words were whispere
d, but they made me recoil like he’d shouted them at me.

  “Crew …” My eyes flitted up the stairs then to the window.

  He slid the curtain open as far as it would go and flicked on another lamp behind me. “Come on, baby,” he crooned, his eyes darkening as he reached for his zipper. “You know I don’t like having to ask twice.”

  I could feel my pulse throbbing in my wrist. “You’ve got to leave for work soon.”

  “You know I never last long when you put my dick into that filthy mouth of yours. Just thinking about you working me over has my balls pulling up.” Crew’s hand wound behind my neck, his fingers tying into my ponytail. “You make me ask twice, I’ll expect twice the reward. Both times will have you on your knees though, where you do your best work.”

  “Keenan’s upstairs. He’s awake.” I gave a little wince when he pulled at my ponytail.

  “He’s building with his Legos. The house could catch on fire and he wouldn’t notice. Besides, he wouldn’t object to having a little brother or sister running around. A kid needs a sibling or else they turn into a self-entitled brat.” Crew’s hand trailed down my back as he pressed himself into me. He rubbed his erection against me, breathing heavily as he adjusted our position in the window.

  “There are a bunch of guys out there. Not just Brecken.” My voice was shaking, not from what Crew had in mind but from who he was hoping would see it. I was used to the sex, from the rough to the incessant, but this was a first. Having an audience did the opposite of turning me on.

  “So they’ll have some fresh material when they wrap their fists around their dicks tonight. Consider it a public service.” His hand drove inside the back of my jeans, his fingers digging into me. His breaths were coming hard and uneven, like they did right before he came. His hand thrust deeper, until his fingers were invading me. “Baby needs a little foreplay, it feels like. My cock in your mouth ought to be just the ticket. I know how much it turns you on when you get me off with your mouth.”

  His fingers drove deeper into me, making me flinch in pain. Even though Brecken had been gone for the past two weeks, we couldn’t turn on the TV or radio without hearing about him. The more we heard of him, the more Crew sought the release only sex could give him. It seemed to provide him the only relief he had these days, temporary as it was.

  I’d been sore for weeks now, and even though I could have said something to him, I knew how much he needed it. He was easier to live with at least. Some soreness and interrupted sleep were small prices to pay.

  However, this, what he was proposing? No. Just no.

  His hand finally slid out of my jeans, grabbing the waist to pull me against him. “You’re going to make me ask twice, aren’t you?” His eyes sparked as a familiar smile spread.

  I found my eyes moving toward the window when I should have kept them on Crew. Brecken was still struggling up the walkway, his focus on the task at hand, instead of what was taking place in the window next door. In that moment, I couldn’t help feeling like I was the prisoner now, forced to play a role to stay alive.

  “Mom? Is dinner ready?” Keenan’s voice sounded at the same time his bedroom door whined open.

  I jumped, sliding away from the window. Crew let me go, his eyes fixing on the house next door again.

  “Almost!” I cleared my throat when I heard my voice. It sounded exactly like I’d been caught doing exactly what we’d just about done. “Wash your hands and come down. You can help me set the table.”

  “Night, Keenan. Be a good boy. Watch over your mom for me, will ya?” Crew’s brow lifted at me as he drew the curtain closed before leaving the window.

  “Okay, Dad!” Keenan said as the sound of a faucet blasted on.

  “Have a good night.” I handed Crew his briefcase and lunch.

  His eyes roamed me. “You owe me.”

  “I’ll make it up to you,” I promised. Just not beside any open windows.

  “Now there’s a promise that makes a man eager to get home to his wife.” Crew pulled open the door. “Be good.” He closed it behind him, failing to detail what the or else component of his voice entailed.

  Not that I needed to ask for details. I knew what would happen if I let Brecken back into my life the way Crew was so concerned about—destruction.

  As I wandered into the kitchen, I tried forgetting about what had just about happened. What Crew had suggested. I knew he was going through a lot right now, and Crew had always bottled things up, but what he’d just suggested went way beyond the scope of what I’d come to expect.

  Since Brecken was clearly going to be our neighbor, Crew would have to accept that and figure out some way to calm his insecurities that I was going to run off with him. I was trying hard to be understanding, given the whole situation, but my understanding had about run its limit.

  I’d finished chopping the lettuce and tomatoes and still hadn’t seen or heard from Keenan the Starving yet. He must have gotten distracted by his Legos after washing his hands.

  “Keenan!” I called as I rounded out of the kitchen.

  “Yeah?”

  He wasn’t upstairs; he was in the living room, propped in front of the window I’d just been by. He’d pulled the curtain open halfway and was standing there, staring out the window.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, walking his way.

  “Watching Mr. Connolly.” His shoulders lifted. “I was watching him move in up in my bedroom too, but there’s a better view from this window.”

  “You’ve been watching him this whole time?” He’d been up in his room ever since we’d gotten back from the park this afternoon.

  He shrugged. “I like him.”

  My hand dropped on Keenan’s head when I stopped behind him. I stared out the window with him, taking in the scene. “What do you like so much?”

  “I don’t know.” His shoulders lifted. “I just do.”

  The moving van was gone now. Everyone was gone besides Brecken, who was unpacking a few things on his porch. He looked different from when I’d seen him last. He’d put on a little weight, gotten some color on his face, his movements weren’t so pained looking. He was transforming back into the man I remembered, the one I’d fallen in love with sometime between youth and adulthood.

  “Yeah, me too.” Rumpling his hair, I made myself turn away from the window. “I’m going to finish up dinner.”

  I took my time finishing up the rest, needing a few minutes to gather myself. I’d needed more and more of that lately. Time to regather, recompose, re-something. It was because of him, of course—his return, his coming back from the grave. But it also had to do with me and feeling something inside me come back to life. I’d thought it had died with him. I couldn’t name it, but I could feel it.

  When I heard Keenan clomp into the kitchen, I forced myself out of my haze.

  “We should invite him over for dinner,” he announced, starting to set the table. I didn’t miss him laying out all three place mats.

  “Why’s that?”

  “It’s dinnertime.” He folded three napkins as well. “And I’ve watched him burn three different things now.”

  My eyes lifted to the living room window. Brecken wasn’t on the porch anymore. “He’s burned three things?”

  “Earlier today, it was a grilled cheese sandwich, and then a can of soup. I didn’t know you could burn soup.” Keenan’s forehead creased as he set down the forks. “Tonight, he burned some eggs. I’m afraid he’s going to starve if we don’t help him.”

  I turned off the burners on the stove. In the household Brecken had grown up in, it was a fend-for-oneself mentality. He’d learned to cook because it was essential if he wanted to eat. Nothing fancy, but he’d known the basics from the time he’d been in middle school.

  “He burned soup?” I said.

  Keenan motioned at our stove. “The pan started smoking. The fire alarm went off and everything. He didn’t like that. He tore it down and smashed it against the wall and threw it in the gar
bage. I want to do that when ours goes off.” Keenan sighed, as though if he’d been born Hulk, life would be so much easier.

  Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I considered my options. I wasn’t sure I had multiple ones, but it was nice to think I did. It had been a while since I’d had more than one of them.

  “We should at least take some food over to him. You’re always telling me to do the right thing, Mom.” Keenan sighed, blinking at me. “Making sure Mr. Connolly doesn’t die of hunger is the right thing.”

  “You can’t die of hunger from missing one meal.”

  “Yeah, but he’s going to miss two if we don’t do something. That’s enough to kill a person.” Keenan’s dark blue eyes stared right through me, totally serious. I supposed that to a young boy, missing two meals in a row would seem like a life-or-death situation.

  “Okay, fine. We’ll invite Mr. Connolly over for dinner.” Reaching for the lids, I covered the pans to keep everything warm. “But I’m not sure he’ll want to come over.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he will.”

  “Are you?”

  Keenan’s head bobbed. “He likes you.”

  “We used to be good friends.”

  “Are you still friends?”

  I paused, thinking. “We’ll always be friends.” Moving past Keenan, I gave him another affectionate pat. For being so young, he picked up on things most adults were blind to. He got that from me, I guessed, though his father had some of that too. “I’ll go invite him over, but you stay here. We don’t need to guilt him into dinner.”

  Keenan slid into his chair, his eyes bright as though Brecken was as good as our dinner guest.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said as I moved for the front door.

  I wasn’t sure how I’d explain this to Crew. He wouldn’t like it obviously, but he would have to wrap his mind around the reality of us all being neighbors eventually. Brecken did not need for his old friends to turn their backs on him right now—he needed to know they were there if he needed them. He needed to know they cared. Whatever Crew’s response would be to finding out I’d invited Brecken to dinner, I’d just have to chance it. The consequences of ignoring him when he needed me seemed far more severe.