Breathe Me In (3 page)

Read Breathe Me In Online

Authors: Erin McCarthy

Tags: #Romance, #New Adult

BOOK: Breathe Me In
6.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I didn’t even know why.

Sure, I was starving and I had scared the shit out of myself by passing out, but I’d grab a quick bite, and be on my way, in a cab instead of walking, and all would be fine. I’d been in tighter spots than this, I hated to admit. But of course, everything was different now because of Asher, and truthfully, it could have been bad if Kane hadn’t followed me out of the store. If he hadn’t been nice. Or what seemed like nice.

It was hard to believe he didn’t have an agenda, but he clearly just felt sorry for me. It didn’t matter. What mattered was getting what I could for ten bucks and getting to Chloe’s house. In the convenience store I bought two more food pouches, a travel size pack of diapers, with just three in it, and three granola bars. I’d drink some water from the faucet in the restroom. When I left an extra three dollars on the counter for the food I’d lifted earlier the clerk called out after me. But I left the store, pretending like I didn’t hear him. He didn’t follow me, which meant he probably pocketed it.

Whatever. My debt was repaid. To the store. Not to Kane.

But a random cop was the least of my issues.

Asher let out a squeal, spittle leaving the corner of his mouth. “Totally,” I told him. “I agree. Now let’s go surprise Chloe and hope she doesn’t kick us out on our butts.” I kissed the top of his head.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing I’d lost my purse with my ID and my phone. Those were the last ways for Diego to find me. No one knew about my sister. No one would think to look for me in Maine.

That was exactly the way I wanted it.

It had been stupid to tell Kane my real name. I should have made up a new identity. Tabitha or Shannon or something. Anything.

But I was stuck being Anya. There was no escaping it. Anya Volkov, then Anya Richardson when I’d been adopted, then back to Anya Volkov when I’d been
returned
. My stage name was Anya Strange, but always Anya. I couldn’t reinvent myself because there was no escaping my past. It followed me, awake, asleep, in the dreams I had and the suspicion with which I approached everything. Everyone. I couldn’t shed those so what would be the point of shedding the name? I’m Anya.

I probably shouldn’t have given Kane my real phone number any more than my real name, but since my phone was in my purse on a bus going who the hell knew where, it probably didn’t matter.

As I tore open a granola bar with my teeth and devoured it, I thought about Sam, Asher’s dad, and how he had called me Bubbles after learning that no matter what dump I was living it, I would always scrub out the tub so I could soak, bubbles up to my chin. He would sit on the toilet lid in our last apartment, and play the guitar while I would relax. He would reach into the hot water to rest his palm on my growing stomach and in those moments, I was tentatively happy. Hopeful.

But Sam couldn’t stay off the smack and it killed him and I took money from Diego when I shouldn’t have and now we were in Maine.

I went to the ticket window to see if they could help me find a cab.

Next stop- barging in on the sister I had only seen once since we were three years old.

Chapter Three

I tried to ration the granola bars, but once I ate the first, my stomach acids started churning, and my hunger that I had basically tuned out started clamoring loudly for my attention. The cab driver had squawked about taking Asher without a car seat, so I had to give him the whole thirty bucks I had left for a lousy nine dollar fare as a bribe. I didn’t want to drive without a car seat either, but what choice did I have? In New York, we’d never driven anywhere. I had never owned a car and we took the subway everywhere we needed to go. I’d had a stroller for him but I’d had to leave it when my asshole of a landlord tossed us.

Eating helped clear my head of the fog that had covered it though and when we pulled up in front of an apartment building I felt almost normal. It also helped me realize walking across town with a baby would have been totally stupid. This wasn’t the Village. There weren’t even sidewalks consistently on the drive. When we pulled up in front of a tall blue and brown modern looking apartment complex, I swallowed hard and smoothed my hair back. Which was stupid. I looked like shit, there was no changing that. I hadn’t brushed my teeth in two days and it had been at least three since I had showered. There was no putting a good spin on me at the moment, when I caught a glimpse of myself in the cab window. Ass. I looked like total ass.

No wonder Kane hadn’t wanted a blowjob.

Clutching Asher tightly, I took a few deep breaths, standing in front of the building for a minute after the cab pulled away. Then I marched up to the door, which was unlocked. No buzzers. How was that for trusting? I hadn’t seen an apartment building without security since… ever.

“Are we ready for this, bud?” I asked my son. He gave me a toothy grin, his fingers fisting into the material of my T-shirt. That always made me smile, despite how bad things were. He was the cutest, sweetest baby and damn, I was so lucky to have him. “Excellent,” I told him.

On the second floor, I knocked on the door, glad I’d memorized the address. I had stared at it a hundred times over the last six weeks, wondering if I had any right to contact Chloe after I had been such a bitch to her when she’d shown up at the club I was playing in New York. But I hadn’t even remembered I had a sister. Not really. I had thought I did, at one point, but I’d convinced myself I’d made it up. That she was an imaginary friend or whatever. So to have her show up, out of nowhere, messed up my head, upset me, made me nervous. When that happens, I lash out. She didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t her fault any more than it was mine that our parents sucked and tossed us in an orphanage after we were born. Or that the agency had split us up. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that my adoption hadn’t lasted.

So I knocked on the door, amazed at how despite the circumstances, I was excited to see her. To actually talk to her this time. Get to know the one person who shared my DNA. It was around five o’clock on Sunday. If she and her boyfriend weren’t home, I’d just wait it out. But the door opened and she was standing there in front of me. My twin.

We weren’t identical. She’d never told me we weren’t, but it was obvious that even though we looked a lot alike, we had different noses, different foreheads. Her face was a little more round, a little fuller, though maybe I was just used to being too thin. It made my cheeks hollow. Chloe was the picture of good health- raspberry colored lips, natural blush to her cheeks, eyes bright. Her hair was darker than my natural hair color, though I hadn’t seen my birth shade in a long ass time.

Her jaw dropped. Then she gave a tentative smile, her eyes darting to Asher, her hand rising to wave at me.

She mouthed, “Hi,” but made no sound.

Her boyfriend Ethan had told me Chloe couldn’t speak, that she hadn’t since she was seven. Which seemed all kinds of fucked up to me, because my biggest problem was I could never keep my mouth shut when I should, but instead always used words as my weapons. The fact that she’d chosen the exact opposite method of coping was interesting to me.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m sorry to just show up, but I lost my phone and your number. I want to apologize for being such a bitch to you.” I wasn’t sure how to say any of this, or how much to really tell Chloe. “I didn’t remember you at first and I’m used to people being… users. Wanting something from me.” That was the truth, but the minute I said it, I wondered why I’d chosen to share that with her, in that way. It made me sound pathetic. Not a good lead in.

I also felt the hot shame of having to admit I had nowhere to go. I had a few friends back in New York but I’d already been couch surfing for weeks and with Diego on my ass I couldn’t risk being found, or my friends getting pissed if they got pulled into my drama. When you don’t have a ton of true friends, you want to keep the ones you have. But it was still embarrassing, that I was standing on Chloe’s doorstep without a dime. I didn’t know how to continue or what exactly to say.

But even as my cheeks burned, Chloe just smiled and reached out and gave me a one-armed hug. She gestured for me to come inside, so I did, giving her a wan smile in return. She held her arms out for permission to hold Asher and I kissed his head. “Oh, sure, okay,” I said before handing him to her. My arms sank to my sides in relief. I hadn’t realized how sore my muscles were from carrying him.

Her smile got bigger as she held Asher and she held her finger up to me in the “just a minute” indicator. Then she left the room with my son. Alarmed, I went in the direction she had, the fear that tightened my throat when Asher left my sight almost overwhelming. But she had gone into the kitchen and was talking to her boyfriend. Or signing, or whatever you wanted to call it. It didn’t seem to be official sign language, but with a combination of gestures and mouthed words, she seemed to be communicating with him. Ethan was sitting at a small kitchen table, books spread out all in front of him, like he was studying.

His brow was furrowed and when I came into the room he looked at me with a whole lot of surprise and suspicion. Where Chloe seemed excited and guileless, Ethan responded to my visit with a reaction that to me seemed frankly more natural. He’d already given me a ring to hock for money. He probably thought I was there for more. And he would be right.

It made me feel awful. “Hey, Ethan, nice to see you again,” I said, giving a tight-lipped smile. “Sorry to barge in on you like this.”

Their apartment was small, but clean and cozy and their furniture wasn’t shitty college student stuff. It was all modern and matching and there were pictures on the walls. Fruit in a bowl on the kitchen counter.

“This is a surprise,” he said. “What brings you hundreds of miles away from home?”

Oh, yeah, he was suspicious. There was no spinning it, so I had to be honest. “I have nowhere else to go. I was hoping I could crash here for a couple of days. Give me and Chloe a chance to hang out before I move on.” Not all the details, but it was a start, and no lie.

Chloe smiled and nodded. She reached out, Asher on her hip, and touched my arm. For some reason, her generosity made me feel like shit. I suddenly, desperately wanted to believe that she did and could care about me. I’d never had anyone to rely on. To have a sister… I didn’t even know what to do with that. For so many years I had wanted a family and no one had wanted me. Now I had Asher, and maybe, just maybe, Chloe. If I didn’t fuck it up.

The tears were there, horrifying me. They were just suddenly in my eyes without any warning and I wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear. I felt like I was going to faint again. There were black spots in front of my eyes.

“When was the last time you ate?” Ethan asked.

“I just did,” I said, defensively. “I’m fine.”

“Where are you going after you leave here?” he asked.

That had me crossing my arms over my chest. “Look, maybe this was a mistake. I shouldn’t have just showed up here. I should leave.” I had no idea where I would go, but even Maine had to have homeless people. There must be a shelter somewhere around town.

But Chloe shook her head, looking alarmed. She turned to Ethan and made a face. He sighed. Their ability to communicate was weird. If I hadn’t been able to talk, would Sam have known what I was thinking? Highly unlikely. Sam was too wrapped up in himself and his own needs. I reached to take Asher back.

Chloe passed him to me readily enough but she held up her finger and went for an iPad sitting on the table.

“You can stay,” Ethan said, though his expression was laced with wariness. “Chloe wants you to stay and you look like you need to get some rest.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” It was hard to ask for anything, but I was grateful. I needed to make sure they knew that. “Chloe, how did you know about me?” I asked. “I didn’t know about you. I thought I made it up that I had a sister.”

She paused in her typing to tap the side of her head.

“She remembered you,” Ethan said. “No one believed her though.”

I had spent a lot of time in the last few weeks sifting through my memories. They were all vague and convoluted. I didn’t remember Chloe in the true sense, just like a presence by me, a companion. I didn’t really remember the orphanage or the trip to the States either. I had just been told I was adopted from Russia, but there were no memories of being Russian.

Chloe handed me her tablet.

I want you to stay. We may not know each other as adults but we share the same beginning. You were stronger than me in the orphanage, tougher. I was always afraid and you stood up for me. I know you’re having a hard time and I want to help the way you helped me. Please.

My throat was tight. “Thanks,” I said. Then because it was happening again, the asinine need to burst into tears, I added, “Can I use your bathroom?” I needed to pull my shit together in private for a second.

She nodded and pointed down the hallway.

“It’s the first door on the right,” Ethan said.

“Thanks.” I took Asher with me and did use the toilet. I sat him on my lap while I did, a pro at multitasking and parenting in less than ideal circumstances. After washing my hands, I held him one-armed and pulled myself together with several deep breaths. I wasn’t sure I could do this.

But I wasn’t sure I had a choice.

I’d give it two days. Time to sleep and regroup. To see if I could trust Chloe. I didn’t want to rehash my life with Chloe or talk about the past. But I did want to get to know her a little, her as she was now. There was no point in comparing our histories. I already knew we’d both gotten fucked over by our parents.

Kids deserved better than that. I would do whatever it took to keep Asher safe. To make sure that he had a better childhood than me.

As I played with the soft hair on his head, I formulated a plan. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and my tattoo on my collarbone. My shirt had shifted, exposing it.

I am not afraid to walk this life alone.

“Do what you have to do,” I told myself fiercely. “For Asher. Nothing else matters.”

Other books

The Battle Sylph by L. J. McDonald
The King Is Dead by Griff Hosker
The Lime Twig by John Hawkes
Engleby by Sebastian Faulks
The relentless revolution: a history of capitalism by Joyce Appleby, Joyce Oldham Appleby