Saved By You

Chapter 24 (picture of Mack)

‘Claire?’ I hear him stab out his cigarette and before he could stand I finally gave in and sank to the steps where he sat, head in my hands as I suddenly realised the tears streaming down my face.

Great, now I won’t stop.

‘Please stop crying,’ Brett murmurs touching my back hesitantly.

I shook my head.

‘Don’t… don’t cry for me. Don’t waste your tears over something that I’m over… over anything.’ He stops abruptly as if thinking I’d magically stop, but still I kept crying into my palms, the sobs and trembling taking over my whole body and causing me to shudder with each breath, shoulders shaking from my own grief.

‘I’m sorry if I upset you,’ Brett said, his voice sad as he started rubbing my back gently as if to soothe me.

I shook my head once again, trying to indicate that it wasn’t him. Before I knew it I was in his arms as he soothed me, saying things I didn’t bother listening to, and keeping a firm but gentle hold around me as I, embarrassingly, sobbed right into his chest.

I cried about his dead mother. I cried about my dead loved one, the one person in my family who actually gave a damn about me. I cried about my past, about future. I cried about Mack. I cried about my own mother. And most of all, I cried because, as much as I had wished so badly to die… I didn’t want to.

Cried. Wailed. Whatever you want to call it, I did it… in front of, and on, Brett! What is going on with me?!

‘I’m… so… sorry,’ I hiccupped trying in vain to get my breath back but failing. Failing just as much as I tried to keep my memories locked away, memories I've tried so hard to forget.

‘Shh. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry for.’

I peeled myself off of him, a hot and furious blush making its way to my face the second I saw the giant wet patch I had created on Brett’s new-looking black shirt, the tear stain even blacker somehow. And, well, obvious.

He chuckles softly, ‘my shirt is fine. You on the other hand…’

I sniffled, rubbed away any last tears and quickly averted my blurry gaze. How embarrassing!

‘I’m… fine.’ I lied stupidly.

He gave me the most obvious look in which I knew he didn’t believe a thing I said.

‘I pretty much just spilled my guts… although I guess I didn’t have to… and now you won’t tell me why you sat there crying in my arms for almost thirty minutes?’ he cocked up a brow and I quickly avert my gaze yet again.

He was right I guess…

‘That crash… that person who killed your mum… It was-’ my voice hitched and suddenly I sounded weird even to my own ears. Oh great, I think I’m gonna ball my eyes out again.

‘-It was my brother.’ I finished swallowing a lump in my throat before finally meeting Brett’s surprised gaze.

‘Y-you have a brother?’

‘Had,’ I corrected almost immediately.

I had a brother. If he was alive right now I know I wouldn’t be here right at this moment. I know that this wouldn’t have been the last year of my life. I know that those years he had left me to survive alone wouldn’t have been like hell. If he was alive…

I snapped out of my daze and suddenly realised Brett hadn’t said a thing, thinking the worst of course I jumped up in a panic. ‘He-he had a reason,’ I said quickly trying to defend him and also not wanting Brett to hate me. No reply. ‘My mother over dosed again and my father had throttled and hurt me,’ I said from out of nowhere all in one breath within a matter of seconds without even thinking. ‘Nathan only left to get pain killers and help. He was over it all. He was getting help.’ I realised then that I was seconds away from balling my eyes out for the second time so bit my lip and quickly averted my gaze.

Did I seriously just tell him that? Did that seriously just leave my mouth so easily when even just the name of my brother on someone’s tongue made me sick to the stomach? What the hell?!

Help. He was getting help. This could’ve all been over with if only he had come home. He was the brave one everyone loved, not me. I should’ve been in his place. He should be the one who is now engaged and as content with his life as he ever has been. He should be alive.

‘Claire…’

I flinch, suddenly wishing I was anywhere but here. Here it comes; the judgement. The disgust.

I mean, who wants to know my problems anyway? Maybe I should leave…

I got up quickly the second I made up my mind but a hand grabs my hand and causes me to stop, a body placed in front of me like a wall as if I couldn’t go around, and I kinda couldn’t have, not with him staring at me like the way he was and with both his hands now holding both my arms.

‘Claire. Does your dad… does he abuse you at home?’ Brett asks quietly, his head tilted slightly so we were eye to eye.

I looked away, ‘I don’t live with him anymore remember.’ I said feebly, not exactly wanting to go into this topic.

‘But he did?’ Brett pushes.

I swallowed, ‘he did,’ I whispered now biting my lip as I stared hard at the houses across the road.

‘For how long?’

I smiled a little but it held no happiness or humour, ‘A while,’ I say, trying to avoid the subject but clearly failing.

‘How long?’ he pushes again.

I sigh. ‘Since I was five… it only got worse when Nathan died. No one was there to save me anymore.’ I said quietly. ‘For the few years that he left I was okay though. My father barely even looked at me. The abusing started up again when I turned 11. Got worse and worse with each damned day that went passed until eventually I was pretty much used to it. Til eventually… I just didn’t care.’

I could still feel it even to this day. The way he hurt me, mentally, physically and emotionally. He hurt me bad, and even he knew that.

‘Did you tell someone?’ Brett asks quietly.

I laughed, now meeting his gaze and feeling somewhat angry that he had to bring this up. Why should he care? He doesn’t know me. He probably never even wanted to. No one cared when I needed them; when it mattered.

‘What do you think Brett? Of course I didn’t tell anyone. You think my dad would have been happy about it? I didn’t have a phone. I didn’t have transport. I didn’t even have anyone to tell. I had no one, nothing.’

‘So you didn’t try?’ Brett asks his voice higher now as anger flashed in his eyes as well. ‘You just… let him?’

‘What else was there for me to do? Hit back? Tell some random on the street? Of course I tried that.’ I growled, ‘I tried that and no one helped. I tried that and instead I ended up with a concussion at the age of 12, my body black and blue with a broken arm. And by then I was too scared to go to the hospital!’ I hissed. Brett flinches and he finally lets me go, stepping back as if I was something thst caught on fire.

‘I-I’m sorry.’ He stutters clearly ashamed of himself.

And just like that I deflated, causing my shoulders to slump and for me to suddenly step forward and fall into his arms. He catches me with ease and I wrested my head on his chest as I felt as if I would faint at any minute.

All this crying and memory talking is doing me no good.

‘No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.’ I apologised with a sigh causing him to shift a little so he could hold me a little better, his arms shifting lower – too low – so he supported almost all my weight.

‘You had all the right to do so.’ Brett muttered, his voice causing his chest to vibrate a little and into my ear.

I smiled a little.

‘Angel?’ a familiar voice asks from out of nowhere, his voice confused.

Jace.