Love You Always (4 page)

I look back at the aft section and flames engulf more than half the ship now. Any minute the flames will reach us. Tears now stream down my face—I know he’s right—our parents are dead.

“Let’s go,” I say as I push my brother and sister to the edge of the yacht, and we dive in.

The water’s murky, I can’t see a thing, and although I hear eerie sounds of the crackling wreckage, the most prominent sound is my own rapid heartbeats pounding in my ears.

When I surface, I gasp for breath, and my eyes scan the area for my siblings. Where the hell are they? I feel panic coming on, as I spin around and around—I can’t see them.

Then I hear coughing behind me, I turn, and it’s Angela. She’s about ten feet away from me. Then David appears a few feet farther and to the side of her, but something’s wrong, his face contorts as if in severe pain.

“What’s wrong?” I yell out to him.

“I don’t know. The whole left side of my body feels like I’ve got cramps,” he yells back at me, his face wincing with agony.

Goddammit! Why is this happening?!

I look at Angela and she seems like she’s going to pass out. Oh my God, I can only help one of them.

David yells to me, “Save Angela.”

Fuck! How can I leave my brother? But he’s right, I have to save Angela first, she’s weaker, she won’t make it without my help.

I swim to my sister and take her in my arms. I turn my attention back to David.

“I’ll be back for you. Try to hang on, David. Please don’t give up.” My voice trembles.

“I won’t,” he assures me, but it sounds weak—and he’s scared.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I can only hope he has the strength to hold on for me to come back for him.

“Try to back float if treading’s difficult,” I instruct him.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

I focus back to my sister. “Angela, stay calm, I’ve got you, and I’m going to take you to safety. Don’t struggle, just let your body relax, and let me pull you in,” I tell her.

“Okay,” she says, her teeth chattering, possibly from the cold, but most probably from her fear— her breath exhales in spurts. I can feel her body trembling, shivering, as I hold her. I slowly turn her so I can tow her in, rescue style.

My breath comes hard and fast, and my adrenalin pumps through me like a bullet train on steroids.

Thank God we weren’t too far from the cove. I estimate I can make it there in five minutes.

“How are you doing?” I ask as my one arm strokes and strokes its way towards shore.

“I’m okay,” she responds. I know she’s as scared as I am, but she’s trying hard to relax her body to make it easy on me to tow her.

When we finally get close enough that I can touch my feet to the bottom, I carry my sister to the beach, and lay her down.

I fall to my knees next to her as my chest heaves with each breath I take into my lungs, gasping for air, trying to recover my energy.

“I’ve got to go back—” I pull in more air “—and help David.” My heart continues to pound and pound, hard in my chest, in rapid successions.

“Please save him, Marcus,” she says as she wraps her arms around my neck in a hug. She’s sobbing, and I want to cry too, but I hold back my tears, needing to stay strong, not only for her but for myself, so I can make it back to David. My arms enfold her, squeezing her tightly to me.

“I’ve got to go,” I tell her as I grasp her arms from around my neck to release our embrace. As I set her arms into her lap, I look down at her wrists—her charm bracelet is gone.

A sharp pain stabs my heart. I want to cry. I want to yell into the air—
this isn’t fair!

“I’ll be back with David,” I reassure her, but my words don’t console her, her tears continue to fall.

I leave her sitting there, watching after me, as I hurry back into the water, swimming as fast as I can to where the remnants of my dad’s luxurious yacht lies burning still.

“David,” I yell out. Panic strikes me. I know this is where I left him.

“DAVID!” I cry out again, swimming back and forth, around and around, yelling his name again and again.

Oh God, please don’t do this. Don’t take David away from us too. Please . . . don’t.

“David.” My voice is now a broken and shattered whisper. I tremble uncontrollably.

The air reeks and burns my nostrils with the stench of the scorching wreckage. I’m suddenly aware of the pain of my burns. The death of my dad, mom, and brother hit me as though I awake in a cold shower—of hydrochloric acid.

This time I don’t hold back my tears.

I sob like a baby.

~* Laura *~

“That’s a really nice pendant,” I say to Angela, admiring the delicate filigree heart with intricate etchings. It has a satin finish with shiny polished highlights. It’s very pretty. Whoever gave it to her has good taste. I lean closer to see the words
‘Love You Always’
etched in script. She wears it on a dainty silver chain around her neck.

Angela tilts her head downward and touches the piece of jewelry at my mention of it.

“Marcus gave me this charm. It was originally for a charm bracelet I received for my Sweet Sixteenth birthday. I lost the bracelet in the accident, but this charm had fallen off before we left and was saved that day.” Her expression turns solemn. “Unfortunately, the ones from my parents and David, I’ll never get back.” Tears glaze her eyes.

“I treasured that charm bracelet, and it wasn’t because of anything materialistic. It was like I carried a piece of each of my family with me wherever I went, reminding me of who I was, the people who loved me, who protected me, gave me the courage to be who I was, supported me in my endeavors, and cared about the things that were important to me.”

Tears drop from her lovely brown eyes. My own eyes fill with tears.

“It’s as if that day, this charm had fallen off to spare me the brother who saved my life. I know it’s silly, but a part of me believes that had we found my charm and it had been with me that day, maybe both Marcus and I would’ve died too. Out of all the charms on my bracelet, it was the one Marcus gave me that was spared. It always gives me the chills when I think about it.”

“So, Marcus saved you?” I ask.

“Yes.” She hesitates. Her eyes look straight into mine.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, I totally understand. I know it was traumatic for you,” I say, empathizing with how painful the memory must be to recall it.

“It’s okay. Some of it’s a blur, but I remember there was an explosion, our boat caught fire, we went overboard, and Marcus saved me first and went back to try and save David, but it was too late.” She lowers her eyes—I sense she feels guilt.

“David’s death and the guilt of being unable to save him, torments Marcus, although he tries to hide it from me. I’ve heard him cry out to David in his sleep a few times, so I know it haunts him. But he never lets me console him. He’s played my big brother for so long, always the one to be there for me, that he doesn’t know how to accept my help. It tears me up inside that he won’t let me be there for him, the way he is for me.

“When we were kids, David used to tease me and taunt me, and I’d run to Marcus for help. Marcus and I could talk for hours and I could tell him anything, but it wasn’t that way with David. David was more like an average brother would be, but Marcus was also like a best friend or even maybe a mentor. I looked up to Marcus as much as I did my parents.

“Although I knew David loved me as I loved him in a normal sisterly/brotherly way, I never really knew how much until that day when he and Marcus covered me with their bodies so I wouldn’t get burned from the debris of the fire.

“That day I realized both my brothers would risk their lives for me. I can’t keep from crying whenever I think about that. My heart aches every time I think of David and how I’ll never be able to tell him ‘thank you’ and how much I love him.

“What’s written on this charm,” she says as she touches it again, “is from when we were kids I would tell Marcus,
‘Love you,’
and he would reply back,
‘Always.’
We didn’t say it often, just once in a while when in the mood. Now, every night before we go to bed, we say this in case it’s the last thing either of us hear. We no longer take for granted that we’ll have the opportunity to tell each other that, because life doesn’t care who it hurts, it can take someone away from you without a moment’s notice. I never got to tell my parents how much I loved them, or David, and I live with that empty, unfulfilled piece of my heart every day of my life.”

“I wish I had a relationship with my sister like you have with Marcus. And what you had with your parents, with my father. Unfortunately, mine is a dysfunctional family,” I tell her honestly.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Laura.” She looks at me with sadness and compassion in her eyes.

“I’ve never felt like my father ever really cared about us. Throughout my childhood, we’ve probably been more of a burden to him. I can’t say that I like my father very much.”

“How about your mother?”

“My mother left us just before my brother killed himself. I can’t forgive her for that. She left us without even a goodbye, no word, whatsoever. How can a mother do that? Leave her family without even telling them why?”

“I can imagine how hard it must’ve been for you and your siblings. Especially, you being the oldest, having to be the one to take care of everyone.”

“Yes. I think maybe that’s why Jade despises me. I’ve had to replace my mom and she resents that.”

“It’s hard to say what goes on in a person’s mind when an emotional crisis happens to them. Maybe it’s not anything to do with you at all, but what she’s going through overall. Unfortunately, you’re just in the line of fire.”

I haven’t known this woman for more than a few days and already I’m spilling out my private life to her—things I don’t talk to anybody but Jules about. Her willingness to open up and share with me makes it seem okay to do the same with her. I’m letting myself be vulnerable and open and it feels good, I feel close to her. There aren’t many people I can do this with. Angela has a genuineness about her that makes me feel comfortable talking with her. And I don’t feel judged—she’s accepting and compassionate. She’s also very insightful for someone a year younger than me, hardly experiencing much of life yet, especially with her agoraphobia keeping her hostage and confined to her home.

“How did you get to be so perceptive?” I ask with a smile.

“I read a ton of books,” she replies with a chuckle. “Also, I’ve learned a lot through Marcus and my parents. My parents used to philosophize about life and they made a huge impact on my brothers and me. What they said made sense, basically. We had a lot of respect for our parents. I guess we weren’t the typical rebellious teenagers.”

“You were lucky to have the parents you did. I’m envious.” I smile at her, but inside I’m crying that my parents weren’t as nurturing and supportive.

“We had it easy. It doesn’t sound so for you and had to find your own way. I give you a lot of credit for that. You’ve got grit. I can’t say the same for myself. I lack grit. Marcus has grit. I just ride on his coattails.” She laughs.

Angela impresses me the more she talks about herself and her life, and her assessments of mine. She says she lacks grit, but grit’s not everything. A person can have grit and be the shittiest person in the world. It takes more than grit to be a respectable and notable person. Grit is good, but it’s not everything.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Angela.”

“Yeah, probably not, but we normally focus on our flaws instead of our strengths, don’t we?” She winks.

Hmm, yeah, that’s me for sure. I definitely focus on my weaknesses more than my strengths. I admit to having a low self-esteem. With parents like mine, who wouldn’t? But I shouldn’t blame my parents for my shortcomings. They might’ve been the source of my issues, but as an adult, it’s up to me to become the person I want to be. Yeah, easier said than done. But I’m trying. I’m trying to get past all the crap in my childhood and build myself a better life, become a better person, and not mirror the sins of my parents. My parents are what you would call narcissists, and I certainly don’t want to become what I loathe.

“You have an attraction towards my brother, don’t you?” she asks out of the blue.

I’m taken aback by her bluntness. Her question makes me feel uncomfortable.

“Umm. Did it show that much?” I confess.

“Between the two of you, I think he was the more obvious, so I wouldn’t worry about it,” she says with a chuckle.

“You think your brother is attracted to me?” Blood rushes to my cheeks.

“Are you kidding me? He all but drooled over you. Couldn’t you tell?”

I smile at her sheepishly. If I’m honest with myself, I guess I could tell, but it’s that ‘focusing on my flaws’ rearing its ugly head, that made me feel unworthy of his attraction, and instead, thought I’d been imagining it. I mean, this guy has everything going for him, why would he be interested in someone like me? I’m far under his status and prestige.

“Trust me, Laura, my brother is attracted to you. I haven’t seen him that excited about a woman since his last girlfriend. And believe me, you outdo her any day.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sheryl was Marcus’ high school sweetheart. They were together from their sophomore year until he turned twenty. I never liked her and knew that one day she’d hurt him. My brother has the biggest heart and he trusts so easily. And he thinks the best of people, so he refused to believe that Sheryl was sleeping around.”

“Oh my gosh. That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, it crushed him. He’s dated a few times after that, but he’s never been serious about a woman since. It’s going to take someone special to break his wall down in that regard.”

She gives me a mischievous smile. “I think you may just be that woman.”

“Wait a minute. Your brother and I don’t even know each other. How do you know what kind of person I am? I may be a bimbo for all you know.”

She laughs. “I’m pretty perceptive about people, and I don’t see that in you. From the time you’ve been here, we’ve talked enough for me to get a general idea of who you are. Also, your actions tell a lot. I watch you doing things around our house that you don’t need to do. You aren’t being paid to tidy up the place, but I see you doing things like that. You wipe the inside of the microwave after using it, and other of our appliances. Who does that? Only someone who’s conscientious and considerate about taking care of other people’s things.”