Unbroken (12 page)

Mami:

Could you bring home a German chocolate cake tonight? I’ll give you the money when I get home.

Once it’s sent, I get into the driver’s seat and close the door behind me, putting my key in the ignition. I drive out of the parking lot, my heart racing and pounding at all I’ve just seen. He’s so young, and I can see there’s an entire world of responsibility on his shoulders. I hate it for him, but I know I’m going to have to help him a few times along the way, if only to make sure he doesn’t get overwhelmed.

I don’t know how he got thrown into my life, or why, but I’m glad he did.

It looks like we’re going to need each other.

NINE

“MOM! MOM, CAN YOU COME in the kitchen for a second?” Sabrina yells the minute we’re inside her house.

Dalis collapses onto the couch, and Cason follows suit. He’s grumpy because once we got in the car, I took my cell phone from him. He was being a little asshole earlier, and he should know it. If he doesn’t, he’s about to. Because he won’t be disrespectful to anyone in Sabrina’s home.

We sit in the kitchen at the table, and Sabrina gets me a soda out of the refrigerator. She sets it in front of me, then takes one for herself and sits across the table from me. She pops her soda open and takes a long sip from it. She crosses her legs, and turns toward the doorway to the kitchen.

Her mom is stunning. She reminds me so much of my own, it’s incredible. She has a baby on her hip, and she smiles as she strolls casually into the room. She hands the baby over to Sabrina, and Sabrina takes her gingerly.

“Hi, honey,” her mom says, taking a seat next to her daughter.

“Mom, this is my friend,” Sabrina says, bouncing the baby on her lap. “The kids in the living room are his brother and sister. They’ve had a rough night and they need a place to stay. I was wondering if they could stay here for a while?”

She hands the baby over to Sabrina, then leans over to whisper something in her ear. Sabrina pales, and then stands up, baby in hand, and walks out of the room without giving me a backward glance. My gaze follows her as she retreats, and once she’s completely gone, I turn back to her mother.

“I’m Anastasia Matteo, but you can call me Ana. What’s your name?” she asks.

“Brody Durham, ma’am. My sister’s name is Dalis, and my brother’s name is Cason. I really didn’t mean to put you out like this, or show up unannounced. But Sabrina…she refused to take no for an answer. I was coerced,” I say on a forced laugh.

She nods, leaning forward on her elbows. “Yeah. I know my daughter is a force to be reckoned with when she wants something. Tell me your story.”

She says it in such a demanding way that I know immediately this is where Sabrina got her pushy nature from. Even though I feel awkward telling people what goes on with me in my home life, this woman somehow forces it out of me. Within the next hour, I tell her about Mom, how sick she got, and how she passed away. I tell her about the funeral, and how Dad didn’t waste any time in drowning himself in alcohol and making a complete ass of himself in front of all her friends and family. I tell her about everything, from the very first beating to the very last one, and by the time I’m finished, both of us are near tears.

“Well, Brody,” she says, pensively, “you can stay until you graduate high school. I’ll talk to my husband and let him know what’s been decided. My home is always open for those who need it. I can put Mila in my and my husband’s room, put Grace in Bianca’s room, put your siblings in Mila’s room, and you and Sabrina can each have your own rooms.” She folds her hands atop the table and pins me in place with a glare. “Now on to the next order of business. What are you doing with my daughter?”

It’s a question I was expecting, but all the preparation in the world wouldn’t give me an easy way to answer it. I don’t know what I’m doing with Sabrina. As of right now, she’s still a stranger. She’s a kindhearted stranger who went out on a limb for me and the two people I love most in the world. However, I’d be lying if I said that’s all she is. I’m attracted to her. Insanely attracted to her. Hell, I’m attracted to her in more than just the physical sense. But how can I explain that to her mother?

It doesn’t make sense that for the past two years I’ve held onto this image of a girl I didn’t know, just because there was some karmic force pulling us toward each other. Nor does it make sense that for the first time ever, I’m considering giving her the piece of myself I’ve never given to anyone else. Sabrina Matteo is seared into my heart, and she always will be.

I can’t explain it to anyone, because I barely understand it myself.

So I give the easiest answer I can think of right now.

“I don’t know,” I reply.

Ana cocks her head and looks at me skeptically, like she’s trying to decide whether she believes me or not. She sighs, and stands up. “Well, at least you’re honest. Just know that the last person we let into our family all but ruined us. I won’t let anyone tear my family apart, and I won’t let anyone hurt my girls again.”

Her comment strikes me as odd. She said “girls” as in plural. What does that mean exactly? How do I make sure the party responsible pays for what they’ve done? How do I ensure that it won’t happen again?

“I would
never
hurt Sabrina, ma’am. And I wouldn’t hurt any of you if I can help it.”

I know I don’t have much. I don’t have parents. I don’t have my own roof over my head. I don’t have much money to my name. But I do have my word, and to most people, that’s nothing. To me, it’s everything.

Ana nods and pushes away from the table. “Sabrina will show you to your room when you’re ready to go to bed.”

She’s gone just as quickly as she came, and I’m left wondering what the Hell just happened. A strange woman just offered me a place to stay for the rest of the semester, and I think I agreed to it?

This could either be the best or worst thing to ever happen to me.

Sabrina enters the kitchen with the baby at her heels, running after her. She seems to hear the baby coming up behind her, because she whips around and scoops her up.

The first thing I notice besides the tender way she deals with her sister is the fact that she appears to have changed out of her work uniform. Her slacks and white button up shirt have been replaced with a tank top and boxer shorts. Her hair is out of the ponytail and it drapes down her back like a waterfall as she parades around the kitchen.

I mentally give myself a slap in the face. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to handle living with this girl. Living with this girl will make me a walking hard on and I know good and damn well she knows it. Perhaps this is my punishment for the games I played with Michele and Belinda. If it is, I’m regretting it already.

“Hey, could you take the baby for a second?” she asks, turning to me with a hand on her hip.

“Uh, sure.”

I extend my arms for her, and she squeals with delight as I take her from her sister.

“This is Mila. She’s one.”

I secure Mila in my lap, looking down at her. She’s totally adorable. She grabs my t-shirt in her hand and her head lolls to the side until it falls against my chest. Hazel eyes peek up at me through half-hooded lids and long, thick eyelashes. With her free hand, she twirls her fingers through short curls.

I look away from her for a moment and Sabrina is staring at me with a pensive smile on her face. She hands me a bottle, and I hand it to Mila. Her hand drops from my shirt as she puts the bottle in her mouth.

“You want a piece of cake?” Sabrina asks. “It’s German chocolate.”

I narrow my eyes at her for a moment, wondering how she knew that was my favorite flavor of cake.Then, I vaguely remember telling her earlier because she asked me. “Sure.”

She nods toward Mila, who is drifting in and out of sleep, and smiles. “You can take her to the living room. We’re gonna watch
The Avengers
. You happened to show up on sibling movie night, so you get to meet my other sisters.”

Mila in hand, I make my way into the living room. I sit on the couch and prop Mila up on my knees as she drinks her bottle. Sabrina follows behind us shortly, and, handing me my slice of cake, she gestures to her sisters. One looks almost exactly like her, except she has green eyes instead of brown, and the smaller one looks just like their mother. “This is my sister Bianca, but we all call her Bee. And the little turd over there next to Dalis is Grecia. You can call her Grace if you can’t pronounce it.”

She curls up against the back of the couch, her knees beneath her. Almost absentmindedly, she reaches up and touches the side of my face that’s bruising. I wince at her touch, and she pulls away. With a small smile, she moves over and rests her head on my shoulder. I close my eyes, surprised at how good it feels to have her so close to me. She peers over my shoulder to look down at Mila, and then she glances up at me.

“She must really like you. She won’t go to sleep on just anyone.” She reaches up again, and her hand hovers over my face. “What happened?”

I know she doesn’t mean it that way, but it comes out as a loaded question, one that I already answered for her mother not too long ago. I don’t want to tell her what’s happened, don’t want to tell her my story. I don’t want to send her running away, but worse than that, I don’t want my story to force her to stay out of pity.

“I ran into a doorknob.”

She laughs, and all eyes in the room turn to look at the both of us. She sounds ridiculous, and I don’t know what she’s laughing about, because I don’t find anything about this situation funny.

“Yeah, that might have worked when you were five and your face was
actually
adjacent to a doorknob, but there’s no fucking way I’m gonna believe that,” Sabrina says. “What happened?”

“Stick around long enough and maybe I’ll tell you.”

…

I’M PULLED OUT OF MY SLEEP by the sound of someone screaming. It’s loud, gut-wrenching, and heart-breaking. It’s the kind of scream that comes from deep within a person, the kind that comes from the harsh reality of knowing that when you wake up, you’re still living a nightmare.

I leap out of bed immediately, hoping that my parents haven’t woken up.

I haven’t been able to sleep knowing Brody is right across the hall. Even now, I want so badly to go to him, but I know that I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. Not in my parents’ house.

I make my way out into the hallway, and as the screaming continues, I follow the sound. Heart racing, I continue to follow it until I’m right in front of Brody’s bedroom door. I take a deep breath, not sure exactly how I’m going to approach this situation with him. I don’t want to intrude on whatever it is that’s going on inside, but at the same time, my heart can’t bear to hear it go on any longer.

I knock on the door a couple times, and I press my ear to the door for any sign that the yelling has subsided, but it hasn’t. It’s quieted down some, but he’s still going at it, and going strong, too. I knock on the door again, and once I realize that he’s not going to stop, I turn the doorknob and enter the room.

Once inside, the streetlights burst in through the window, shining on him. He thrashes about atop the comforter, and I race over to him, climbing onto the bed and placing a hand over his chest. His shirt is wet, sticking to his torso from the amount of sweat coming from him. I reach my hand up and smooth it over his face, my heart clenching as I silently soothe him. His body stills beneath my touch, and his eyes snap open. He jerks into a sitting position, panting erratically as his stunning gray eyes pierce through me in the darkness. His chest heaves and beads of sweat appear on his forehead.