The Survivor (Book #2)

Chapter 13

I woke up early only to realize that I didn't have school today. I wanted to go back to sleep, but the feelings from the nightmares I had were prevalent in my mind and I wasn't willing or able to face that again. Instead, I pulled on a tank-top, some leggings, and running shoes and went down to the kitchen. I peeled a banana and nibbled on it until I heard footsteps treading lightly down the stairs.

"Maya?" Brooklyn asked as he peered into the kitchen. I jumped off the counter and smiled at him before throwing out my banana peel.

"Can I come with you today?" I asked in a tone that sounded monotonous, even to me. Brooks was the only guy in this house that did more cardio than weight workouts and I certainly wasn't going to join Dominic in the gym and try to lift 200 pounds.

"'Course." He said easily, grabbing a house key and a water bottle. I pulled mine from the fridge and followed him to the living room.

He opened up the front door and I shut my eyes to bask in the direct sunlight for a moment as we stretched. There was dew covering the grass in the front yard and the sky was alternating shades of purple, blue, yellow, and orange. The clouds in the sky were lit up from behind as the sun climbed steadily higher.

"Beautiful." He said, pulling one arm to the side and then switching. I nodded in agreement and sighed.

Brooks started jogging in place, so I stood and began jogging too as we took off down the driveway and turned onto our street. My side almost immediately started to hurt, making me remember why I never go for a run. I pushed through the pain and breathed in and out as best I could. The pain was just a message.

I think Brooklyn noticed that my breathing was growing labored because he slowed down subtly. After fifteen minutes, he asked if we could walk. I nodded and tried to regain control of my breathing as he slowed, and I stopped. I leaned over, hands on my hips, and waited until I felt okay to keep walking.

"You doing alright, My?" Brooklyn asked as we blinked the sunlight out of our eyes.

"I'm not a very good runner," I said with a laugh that sounded more like a weird gasp of air.

"I didn't mean running." Brooks said, keeping his eyes fixed on the path ahead of us but shooting me a glance with his peripheral vision.

"I'm okay," I lied. I noticed I was lying a lot more than usual lately. It was like something I couldn't control.

Brooklyn stayed quiet and I didn't take offense. I knew that where Caleb would shake me and demand answers and Dominic would raise an eyebrow, Brooks would give me space.

You can trust him, I told myself. You don't want to be alone anymore.

"I'm not exactly okay," I confessed, turning to the side so he couldn't see my face.

"What's wrong?" he asked. It sounded like there was gratitude in his voice. Was he actually happy that I was telling him something dark? I desperately wanted to look at him to confirm that what I heard was what he was feeling, but I didn't. I was afraid he would see more of what I was feeling than I wanted him to.

"Nightmares." I choked out.

"Nightmares about what?" he asked gently.

I exhaled slowly and took a deep gulp of air in, then released it.

"My uncle," I said, biting my cheek as I told him the truth.

We turned the corner that meant we were on the way home. I picked up speed as if I could outrun the problem. He was silent for a moment in thought.

"Can I ask you something personal?" he asked.

"I'd prefer you didn't," I joked, looking at him with a forced smile. I caught sight of his dark eyes and felt a pang of sadness. His eyes were looking at me with a love I didn't deserve. He looked like he was hurting with me. Who knew boys could be so empathetic?

"Okay." He acquiesced, focusing on the road ahead of us once more.

"It's okay, Brooks. What's your question?" I asked. I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead and took a sip from my water. The cold drink did nothing to quench me, and I wished futilely that I had brought a Gatorade instead.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, breaking my heart with his softness.

I looked up at him and he looked back at me, sadly. Tell the truth? Or lie? Keep him safe from reality or let myself be comforted? Was it selfish to tell him and hurt him in that way? Was it evil of me to want him to know?

"You don't have to tell me, but I want you to know I love you either way." He said, coughing a little and looking at the ground. His curly hair spilled over his face and he didn't bother brushing it away. I thought maybe he was trying to give me a moment to think.

"Umm... yes." He looked up at me curiously and I realized I didn't exactly answer his question.

"He hurt me." I said, summing up my existence in three little words. My eyes started to prick with tears. I didn't bother wiping them, hoping it would blend in with my sweat if they fell.

"How much?" Brooks requested in a whisper. "Can I ask that?"

"A lot." I said quietly back, voice breaking with indecision. Was I hurting him? Would he hate me? What was he thinking? Did he realize now that he chose wrong and loving me was a bad choice? He still had time to take it back. I would never hold that against him.

"Oh, Maya." He said, and then he stopped where he stood and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tighter than he ever had. One hand went around my shoulders and the other held the back of my head, fingers tangled in my hair. He pulled my head to his chest and I heard his heart pounding. My first instinct was to push his arms off of me, but I resisted, because it wasn't my uncle holding me. It wasn't a man trying to hurt me or get something from me. It was my brother, trying to show me that he loved me.