Brother After Dark

Chapter Seventeen

Zach was silent.

“Zachary…” I whispered.

He sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I wanted, baby girl.”

“But did you?” I asked. I was desperate to know. I wanted to understand why he was so angry at me.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked. “You already chose our fate. And you didn’t even ask me what I wanted. So, no, you don’t get to ask me those questions.”

There was a trace of sadness and frustration in his voice. And it broke my heart because I felt like I broke his heart when that was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t risk it. Once we crossed that line, there would be no turning back for him and me. At least this way, we still had a chance to repair our relationship. He’ll always be my brother. If I slept with him, we’d always have that between us. Forever. Even someday when we get married and have our own families. He’ll be the uncle of my children. How could I feel comfortable with him around or look at him in the eye knowing that I slept with him?

We may not be related by blood, but he would always be my brother. My parents would always see it that way. In fact, they loved him more than they loved me. People around us would always know us as brother and sister. And there were still some things that this society would never accept or understand.

A relentless ray of light sliced through the dark skies. I held on to my seat and closed my eyes, anticipating what would follow.

Suddenly, loud music filled the car. Too loud, I had to open my eyes to glare at Zachary. Before I could open my mouth, I felt his hand on mine as he intertwined our fingers and gave it a squeeze.

I was distracted. Tingles down my spine. Electricity flowing from his hands to mine.

Boom!

I shrieked. Zachary held on to my hand tighter, like he was expecting it. My heart pounded in my chest. The thunder was loud, but it was masked by the voice of Axl Rose singing “Sweet Child of Mine” on his stereo. I realized why he did what he did, and I was grateful for it.

Another one came. Zachary drove faster. He knew what was coming. We needed to get home sooner.

But we weren’t quick enough, the house wasn’t near enough. Soon, it turned dark, and heavy rain fell over us. The road was getting more slippery. Zachary had to slow down for our own safety. The car’s wipers weren’t quick enough to defuse the pouring rain on the windshield.

Zachary made a sharp turn then hit the brakes on the side of the road.

He turned to me, concern all over his face. He turned the volume down so I could hear him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded. I realized I was still clinging to his hand like my life depended on it. I was sweating even though it was cold.

“I can’t continue driving, baby girl,” he said. “It’s far too dangerous. I won’t risk it if you’re with me. Let’s wait it out. I’ll drive as soon as it becomes tolerable.”

I nodded. I let go of his hand and leaned back on my seat. I hugged his jacket to my body.

We watched and listened to the rain in silence for a whole ten minutes. With the rate this was going, it looked like we were going to be stuck here for a while.

“How did you develop astraphobia?” he asked.

I sighed. I had it for so long it felt like a normal thing to me now. “I guess it was that night Mom hit you with her belt, thinking you were me. Every time I hear thunder, I keep picturing you in pain, while I was screaming for her to stop. It was one of my many traumatic experiences with our parents.”

“Did you try to seek help?”

I shook my head. “I lived in London for years. Sure, there were thunderstorms once in a while. But not as often as here.”

“I didn’t know you had a phobia,” he said quietly.

“If you’d known, would you have asked Dad to send me home?”

He took a deep breath, and then he nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “I was coming back for you. So, yes, even if I’d known, I still would have sent you back.”

I sighed grimly. I thought it was unfair of him to do that. He asked me to come back, and yet he spent the last two months ignoring me, letting me drown in misery. Before, there were only my parents. Now, there were three of them.

“You’re wishing you could have stayed in London, aren’t you?”

“If I knew I was going to be this miserable, yeah.”

“Is it really that bad having me around?” There was pain in his voice when he asked that.

I shook my head. “It isn’t having you around that’s killing me.” My voice was full of pain and frustration. “It is the fact that I-I’ve never felt farther away from you now than I did all these years.”

He stared back at me for a long moment. He was studying my expression, the pain that was visible on my face.

Suddenly, I felt queasy. Sweat beads started forming on my forehead, and I could feel my body start trembling.

Zachary reached forward to feel my forehead. “Baby girl, you’re starting to sweat. When was the last time you ate?”

“Lunch,” I murmured.

“Your sugar is dropping,” he said. He quickly reached for the dashboard drawer and took out a tube of fast-acting glucose. “Here. Take one.”

I quickly chewed on the tablet he gave me. Within minutes, I was stabilizing.

“How could you have Glucotabs in your car?” I asked. That was really unusual.

He placed the tube back in the club compartment. “I had to. Someone I care about is diabetic.”

That was really sweet. Nobody had ever taken my condition seriously. Not even my parents.

He saw the tears welling up in my eyes, and he was quick to pull me into his arms.

“Shhh…” he whispered against my ear. “It’s okay, baby girl. I’m here now.”

I felt like I could burst into happiness hearing him say that. It was a reminder of how he was to me, how he cared for me when we were kids. This was the boy I missed and regret not having around for fourteen years.

He took a deep breath and quietly added, “And if you want your big brother back, then okay… that’s what I’m going to be.”

I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t expecting it, but those words threw my emotions into a completely different direction.