Unbroken (24 page)

I wince. He probably should have left out that bit about Hayden.

“Twenty two! Now there’s a chance of there being
alcohol
there? No. No way.” My dad stares at me. “And why do you want to go anyway? I thought you two were just friends. It sounds like a couples’ getaway to me.”

I nod slowly. “It is. Brody and I—we care about each other very much. We’ve been dating for a few weeks now. Mom knows; she let him borrow the Denali this weekend so he could take me out. This can’t be
that
much of a surprise.”

Mom gives Daddy a nod. She’s always been a champion for me being a teenager, moving forward after Maddox, and doing things I’ve never done before. If she knew exactly how intense things were with me and Brody, she’d defend us even more. I make it a point to talk to her about it before we leave, so she knows I’m not keeping anything from her.

“Gabe, honey, I think we should let her go. When has she given us any reason not to trust her?”

“Never. But the guys she chooses are another story. I don’t want to have another Maddox Bradley on our hands.”

I feel Brody’s gaze on me at my dad’s words, and I tense up. Through tear-filled eyes, I stare at my father and shake my head. He just took this shit too far.

“That’s not fair and you know it,” I choke out. My mom looks like she wants to say something, and I shake my head. “Don’t even worry about it, Mom. I won’t go.” I turn to face my dad. “But remember how you just acted when I decide
not
to ask you for permission next time.”

I shove away from the table, but Brody’s hand holds me in place. If only he knew how badly I want to cry into his chest right now. But doing that would lead to questions, and I’m almost certain the secret I’ve been keeping will make him see me in a different light. What happened was mostly my fault, and I know it, and hardly anyone in my family has been able to look at me the same way since.

“Gabriel, that was uncalled for. She’ll be eighteen in a matter of months. Pretty soon she won’t have to ask us for permission. So the fact she even did is huge, and you should respect that.” She pauses to give me a reassuring smile. “Sabrina has never given us any reason not to trust her. She gets fabulous grades, she holds a good job, she does more than her fair share around the house. I don’t think what she’s asking is unreasonable.”

“You’re giving him too much credit.”

“How? He works, goes to school, has taken care of two kids since he was a kid his damn self! I saw his most recent report card; he’s getting straight A’s despite his circumstances. He treats her well, I’ve seen it. I’m not giving him any credit he hasn’t rightfully earned, and I think she should go.”

My dad jerks away from the table and storms out of the room.

“You can go, Sabrina,” she says. “Just let me know when you leave and when you’ll be back, and if you need anything for the trip.”

I nod, but somehow I feel like I’ve lost instead of winning the standoff with my parents. They’ve always been a united front, but lately, ever since Maddox, it’s been me and Mom against Daddy. We’re supposed to be a family, but it hasn’t felt like one in a while.

I hate this. I hate when things like this happen, because my decisions divide them right down the middle. I don’t want them to fight over me, especially not over something like this.

These arguments always end the same way. Daddy talks to Mom about how she undermines his authority as my father, and Mom talks about the fact that he works excessive hours and is never here. It’s fair enough. She’s the one who raised us, who put her dreams and wishes on hold to take care of us. And she’s the one who has to deal with the repercussions of his totalitarian style of parenting while he’s gone.

With a reassuring squeeze of my hand, Brody lets out a relieved sigh. I wish I could share in his relief, but I know my parents are about to be arguing for the remainder of the night over this. As soon as my mom has left the room as well, Brody grabs my chair by its legs and drags me toward him.

The sound of a door slamming upstairs makes me jump. I can hear them yelling, but it’s not clear enough for me to hear precisely what’s being said. The fact they’re arguing in the first place is enough to make me regret asking them anything, period.

“Dove, it’s okay,” Brody says.

I want to believe him, but I can’t.

Leaning my head against his shoulder, I wonder what the Hell we just did.

NINETEEN

I WAS SURPRISED THIS MORNING when Brody told me he wanted to stop by his old house. He and the kids are running low on clothes, and he wanted to get as much as possible while his dad was at work. Besides that, he wants to get some more weather-appropriate clothing for our trip at the end of the week. He seemed reluctant to tell me, but I’m happy he did so I could go with him. I wouldn’t want him to go alone. Plus, I really want to see what his childhood home looks like.

Of course, I use this as an excuse to finally drive the Denali.

As soon as I get off of work and I know he’s off work as well, we pile into the Denali and take a trip to the past.

I wonder what I’m going to find there.

The neighborhood he’s from is one of the suburban areas of Harlow. I’ve never been here before, and after our date the other night, I wonder how much of Harlow I’ve been missing by staying in only the area I know.

Everything in the area draws my attention. Children ride their bikes down the sidewalk, neighbors wave hello to each other. There’re even a couple of people talking to each other over the fence of their yards. It’s something straight out of a movie, honestly. It doesn’t even seem real.

I turn to look at him and smile, waiting for him to get out of the car. Instead of doing that, though, he tosses his head back and sighs rather loudly. Cutting my eyes at him, I wait for him to speak. He stares up at the ceiling of the vehicle before finally turning his head in my direction and glancing at me.

His entire face is expressionless, but his eyes are haunted. They always have been just a little bit, but I see it so much more now than I ever have. I’ll admit, it scares me a little bit.

“I don’t want to go in there, Dove,” he murmurs.

Oh, my beautiful boy.

I knew this was coming, and although it’s not funny, I laugh. I can see how much he tried to be brave, but there’s no escaping ghosts of the past. I know that all too well.

I nod. “I know. I can tell. You want me to go in for you?”

I see the war in his facial expressions. He wants me to go in for him because that means he won’t have to. But at the same time, he doesn’t want me to go, and that’s the part I don’t really understand. There are things he hasn’t told me, things he hasn’t explained to me, and I wish he would, because I would understand him so much better.

“Would you?”

I smile. There isn’t a single thing in this world I wouldn’t do for Brody Durham.

“Sure. Just tell me what you need and where to find it. You know I’d do anything for you, babe.”

He nods, and proceeds to give me all the instructions I need to get inside and back out without any issues or having to call his phone.

I hop out of the car and grab the duffel bag he brought from home so I can do what he needs.

Standing outside of Brody’s home is incredibly surreal. This is the place he grew up in, the place he’d come to after school and work. It’s lovely, really.

However, I can’t find it in me to fathom why he’d leave it behind. I know his father lives here—he’s told me that much—and this was the last place he got to be with his mother. So why?

I give him a smile from my place on the porch. He told me exactly where everything is, and he told me to get in and get out as quickly as I can because he wants to go home. I don’t know what his hesitance to be here is for, but I’m just going to do as he asks.

I stick the key in the lock and unlock the door, stepping inside. Immediately, the stench of beer hits me. The house is an absolute mess. It’s just filthy. I can’t believe human beings actually
lived
here. I glance around for any signs of life—human life, because this place looks like a pigsty—and I don’t find any. There are no pictures up, no TV or computer or anything in the living room. The stairs are covered in stains, and multiple beer bottles line the floor. They clank as I step over them to make my way to the stair case.

His duffel bag in tow, I head first into his room. He told me to grab as many clothes as I could, and then move on to Cason and Dalis’s rooms and do the same. Once I open the door to his room, emotions hit me like a ton of bricks.

The blinds—if you can even call them that—are held up by nails. They’re falling apart, completely. There’s a plastic garbage bag filled with clothes, a small alarm clock radio sitting in the windowsill. On the floor is a palette made of a bunch of blankets, and a single pillow. My God, he doesn’t even have a fucking
bed.
My heart hurts at the image before me, and I almost back out, almost walk away completely. Why would he let me come in here? This is too much to deal with, too much to see.

But it fits him. I see what he does, what he gives up for his siblings. The fact he doesn’t have a bed shows just how far he’s willing to go to make sure they have everything they need.

I go over to the plastic bag in the corner, and upon opening it, I realize the clothes are clean. The scent of fabric softener is incredibly strong. I grab a couple armfuls and fold them up, then stuff them in the duffel bag. I exit his room quickly, heart aching. I make my way into the next bedroom and am not shocked at all by what I find.

Dalis’s room is the room any little girl would dream of. It’s all pink, ruffly, and filled with stuffed animals. Her bed is adorned with a white canopy, and my hand comes up to cover my mouth. Books line her shelves, and there’s a teddy bear with a cup full of pretty hair pins that I grab and toss into the bag. I also grab her a couple books before I go into Cason’s room. His is the room of a typical teenage boy, so unlike his brother’s. He has a video game console, and I take that. I grab some games, and some clothes for him.

I just want out of here. Something doesn’t feel right.

Zipping the bag up, I run downstairs. The sight, the smell, the feel of this place has me on edge. I hate it. I hate that this used to be his life. I hate that he had to hurt so badly. That he’s still hurt by whatever went on within these four walls.

Their bag slung over my shoulder, I walk over to the door. Suddenly, there’s a tap on my shoulder. I drop the bag to the floor, thinking it’s Brody trying to scare me. When I turn around, though, I’m sorely mistaken.

I barely have time to register the new face in my mind before a fist plows so hard into my stomach I immediately drop to my knees. Arms wrapped around my midsection, I groan and gasp for the air that was just forced out of my lungs. Tears are forming, but I try to force them away. I can’t even
breathe
let alone cry right now. My lunch from earlier revolts and I think I’m about to throw up, but I just dry heave to no avail.

Suddenly, hair at the crown of my head is yanked upward, and my hands go to my hair immediately. I want to scream, but I can’t. I’m so deathly afraid of what’s going to happen, I can’t find my voice, not even to scream for Brody to come help me.

“Who the fuck are you? How did you get in here?” the man says through gritted teeth.

Everything hurts. Everything. But I’m afraid if I don’t respond, he’ll hit me again.

“I…I’m Brody’s g-girlfriend,” I croak, my lips quivering. “I came to…to p-pick up some things.”

He pulls my hair harder and I yelp involuntarily. “My fucking son. Of course. I saw him out there in that hotshot car he’s drivin’. I almost pulled him out and kicked his ass for even showing his face here after taking my kids.” He sneers down at me. “But maybe my message will be better received through you. Maybe he’ll get the message and stay away for good if I beat you black and blue.” With his spare hand, he strokes his chin. “You’re a smart one, too. You haven’t screamed for him yet. I wonder how long it’d take him to find you if you continue to suffer in silence. I could have some fun.”

His words strike me, each one instilling the fear of God and all things in me. I’ve never been so afraid in my life. I know I brought this on myself. I offered to come in here. I wanted to see what his home life was like.