Authors: Melanie Walker
“I can’t promise that Noah will give a shit that we know. I hope he will, I hope he will take it for what it is and get off that shit for good. But I can’t make that promise. We have a shot at making it. We have an enormous fan base and we get played on the local stations and sell out the hottest clubs in the state. No matter how much I love Noah, I can’t risk all our futures because he craves a needle.” He shook his head and dropped his hands to his sides. “I have a future babe, even if I chose to leave my music behind, I’d have a steady and solid income as a tattoo artist. Shame would become crabber, he’d hate it, but he’d do it, and Jerry and Cal would probably stay in construction. We are at the top of our game and we busted our asses to get there. This isn’t just my dream, Carrie, this affects us all.”
He made sense, I knew that. I agreed with every word he said. They were the most sought after band in Washington State, and they couldn’t risk a future that was all but guaranteed knowing that Noah was putting his heroin first.
“God, Chad, I don’t know what to do.” I cried again and he sat up pulling me to sit across his lap like a child. He held me close and rocked me. I’ve never in my life felt so safe.
“How did he clean up last time?” He asked. That was this nightmare in a nutshell. We had been there and done that with Noah so many times it was a broken fucking record. “It was me or the drugs. I was going to move into Aunt Lilly and Uncle Seth’s and dissolve all ties with him. Being my guardian was everything to him. He had fought and bled to get us here and we won. It mattered to him, but now I’m an adult and I have nothing to hold over his head, Chad.”
“You do if you just leave him. Hell baby, you can go to Candy, to me, any of the guys would take you in willingly. We’ve all always been you and Noah’s family.” He placed my hand in his and brushed a kiss across my knuckles, so soft it was like a caress. “Coming home with me would have some serious perks though.” He laughed and so did I.
“Like what? Back rubs and breakfast in bed?” I asked jokingly.
“Backrubs and breakfast in bed, huh? Yeah, I’d let you do those things for me.” He laughed turning my joke against me. I couldn’t help but play along. I loved playful Chad.
“Oh, please. You sneeze and about fifty fangirls line up to give the consolatory ‘bless you.’ I’m sure a backrub and breakfast in bed would cause a riot.”
He laughed and kissed my forehead. “The difference there Carrie girl, is that I don’t want them doing things for me.” He leaned in and nuzzled against my ear. He was still holding me across his lap cradling me so all I could do is squirm when his sweet breath fanned my neck. “It’s you I want, Carrie. You just need to realize that.” He whispered and sent chills down my arms. As if the seduction wasn’t enough he then placed his lips just beneath my ear against my neck and kissed me softly.
On my neck.
My newest set of worries?
Why the hell hasn’t he kissed me on the lips? Sitting here with him all sweet and cuddly had my hormones in overdrive and I wanted a lot more than a kiss.
Chad Blake wasn’t putting out!
*
I woke the next day well after noon. Alone. Almost immediately last night came back with foul clarity and all I could see was my big brother’s glassy eyes. I was going to have to talk to him and soon. I was not doing this again with him. I didn’t think I would ever get him back last time and somehow, by the grace of God, I did. I wasn’t about to lose him again.
I knew why Noah used. I understood it. I knew what it was like trying to keep the darkness at bay so you could hold onto what little light there was. Our childhood had been a nightmare of the most sadistic nature. I knew how hard Noah had fought to keep me safe and how hard I had tried to protect him, but we had both failed in our attempts to save each other. I’d learned the hard way that there was no saving us and just accepted our fate. Noah was so much stronger than I was. Our entire lives he’d kept fighting for us, even when I could do nothing but curl up in a ball and cry about the shitty hand that life had dealt us..
I couldn’t keep the memories at bay today; last night had twisted me into the terrified little girl I had been.
I begged my father to just use me and leave Noah out of it. He had almost killed him the last time we played trust me and that had been years ago. I wasn’t even sure if the game was worth the suffering that our being caught brought that night. My father took me back to my bed and then forced me by the iron fist in my hair to ‘apologize’ to him using my child mouth and body. I
gave in to his demands and did as he asked, all the while begging him to use me and not Noah.
Begging became yet another pleasure of my
father’s and he would use my love for Noah against me. His threats would range from beating him, to outright murder if I ever tried to stop him. I didn’t. I always allowed him entry to my body and allowed my mind to drift to games of trust me with Noah and the worlds I would create. I dreamed of the day those worlds would become a reality, dreaming of the day Noah and I would escape and be safe from our father.
Though we never left the house again after that night we still played the game in the rare occasions that our father passed out early or was late
coming home from work. The happiest times were when he was away on business doing something or other for The Joint. Noah and I would always create safe worlds where we were free of him, lost in the crowds on Pikes pier or the many winding roads in Seattle.
The point was that they were
just games. I knew that if I ever told anyone of my father’s preference for me, or the hatred he harbored for my brother… I knew it would cost us all dearly, if not result in our deaths. One time he overheard Noah talking about starting an Alice in Chains cover band and selling out shows in downtown Seattle clubs while I sold tickets and helped set up. Noah was so enthused and wanted it so badly. We didn’t know that Dad was listening and he came at Noah kicking and punching until my brother was laid out beaten and bloody on the kitchen floor.
We’d long ago stopped going to school.
Our father, in his fear of our freedom, had resorted to home schooling and we had no interaction with friends or even family. We were prisoners, and in that prison he did as he wished to us because there would be no one to see us in the aftermath.
I begged him to forget my brother and focus on me. “Stop,
Dad! Please, he was only playing make believe, I promise!” I begged and swore our loyalty to him, never realizing that my promises fell on deaf ears.
“Fuck that,
Carrie! Let him beat me.” Noah roared before dad came at him again.
The more I tried to protect Noah, the harder his punches connected. I had no
idea the effect my begging for Noah’s safety would hold on me in the future. Nor did I know the guilt that would weigh on Noah.
My father stood
over top of me, his breath tinged with tobacco and beer, and proceeded to tuck himself back in his pants. I was spread out across the kitchen table, my brother at my feet, forced to listen to our father defile my body again.
I had long ago threatened Noah that if he were to interfere again when our dad was raping me, that I would kill myself.
It was not a threat,
but a promise. Every time Noah involved himself and tried to force my father to stop, he was only bloodied more. He would starve Noah, deny him a bed and clothing, anything he could to break him. He gripped my chin in his fingers and forced me to look at him, my body unable to sit on a hard surface after the intrusion he’d forced on me. I knew not to show weakness, and I hid the white hot flash of pain as I sat up, my bottom on the edge of the table.
“Neither of you have any right to go day dreaming in some fantasy land. There will be no band in Seattle,
even if it means I kill you both.” I flinched at the threat as he gripped my chin tighter, there was sure to be a bruise. “Try running or telling our secrets, and I’ll kill us all.” He had never spoken so coldly in my face, with spittle flying, about killing all of us. “Your mother’s hard work for The Joint wasn’t a waste. It will stay in the family.
That
is your future.” It was always about our mom and honoring her hard work. He was fanatical about our future with The Joint.
He got close and spoke so I could hear him loud and
clear, screaming the words. “Do not even think of leaving me, Caroline!” I nodded as a sob broke free. I no longer cried for the abuse or the pain that his body protruded on mine. I cried now for the anguish I saw on Bubba’s face. Our father had finally broken Noah.
He had been forced to listen to
our father’s body against mine, my suffering cries as I pleaded for Noah’s safety. He had robbed us of even our dreams, and made it clear that we were never going to be free. We were abused slaves in the modern twentieth century with no hope in sight. He had killed what little life was left in my brother and in turn had killed mine as well.
I stopped thinking when a scream tore from my throat and I started tossing blankets and pillows in an effort to destroy something, anything, the way we were destroyed. I fell to my knees broken and sobbing with my heart broken for that little boy who had a dream. He had everything before him, that future of selling out shows and rocking in Washington was the life Noah lived. He was as bad as me though, destroying anything within reach just to feel alive.
I washed my face in the small cleaning sink and dried my hands on a dishtowel. My eyes caught on a single peony flower and a small piece of torn paper with black ink script upon it.
My Girl-
I hated leaving you knowing you were hurting and scared. I keep looking over my shoulder listening to you breathe and I want to curl in beside you and stay all day. I would do just that but I have a client at nine and the piece is huge. I know I’ll see you tonight but until then I will think of you and wish like hell that I would have put my awesome moves on you last night and at least stole a kiss from your sweet lips.
Know that we will fix this and that you and Noah are not alone.
Thinking of only you baby-
Your Man xoxo
Ps
Is the peony your favorite flower? Am I close? I will figure this out and then shower you in the scent.
I held the note to my chest like it was my dying breath. I couldn’t help but blush, laugh and then feel insane shock. He’d had bed partners, wild sex and any girl he wanted vying for his attention. He was not the relationship guy. But there he was putting it all out there and making it clear that I was his. Showering me in affection and love notes and it seemed that more flowers were in my future as well.
Chad Blake was a romantic.
My Chad.
Holy fuck
!
I made my way back into the house catching a glimpse of the clock. It was almost three in the afternoon and I had to get moving. I filled a glass with water placed my peony in the water and smelled the tips. God, that boy had turned me into a ball of sexually fueled mush. The butterflies in my stomach were doing the happy dance. I pocketed the note and planned to put it in my room on my corkboard. Turning to head for the stairs and get in the shower, I passed the bathroom and saw the remnants of Noah’s habit lying on the counter.
I refused to touch that shit and with a disgusted groan I turned around and headed for the second shower on the lower level. But when I spun around, my aggravation peaking, I came to a halt when I saw Noah standing there watching me.
He looked like shit. My brother was normally a girl magnet. He had a messy style that drew women by the droves. His hair was scattered light and dark blonde and always perfectly chaotic. The center of his bottom lip housed a small silver ring and below it a barbell through his cleft. He was muscular and his arms were sleeved, his body an entire art piece telling a tale that would bring most to their knees. He had no idea his worth.
Now his normally messy hair looked filthy and in desperate need of a scrub. Heroin users have a stench, it permeates from the skin and it smells of wet rust and decay and Noah was reeking of it. I hated that smell. It was a clue to the fact that Noah probably hadn’t slept all night. More than likely not until he’d finally passed out from the use.
“Clean this shit up, Noah.” I spoke with disappointment and disgust lining my voice. I didn’t know what emotion I felt more strongly. They were both vying for the top spot. I was so sad to see that he had fallen so quickly, but angry that he wouldn’t man up and go to a meeting instead of a dealer. “When you’re done we are sitting down and figuring out what the next step is.”
He ran a shaking hand through his hair and refused to look at me. I had seen this kid at his worst, there was nothing that I wouldn’t do for him. Knowing that it was his binge last night that kept him from looking me in the eye gave me hope. If he was guilty then it meant he didn’t want it. “No, we aren’t.” He looked at me then, his pupils still dilated, but I could see the burn down after his high. He wasn’t sober, but he wasn’t completely high either. “I went on a stupid fucking binge, Carrie. I need to talk to you about why, but I need a shower and food and then I have to get to practice.”
He stopped and cupped my face in his hands. “I will head to a meeting before our show, I swear. I don’t want to fall back in the rabbit hole, Sissy.”
“Swear to trust.” I demanded, not looking away from his stare. He had to swear on trust, on the one word, the game, the entirety of what kept us safe all our lives. If he was getting back on the wagon, he would swear to trust.
“I swear, Sissy.” His voice was pleading as he pulled me in close, hugging me tightly to his chest. I bit back a gag from the stench. “Fuck, I’m so sorry baby girl.”
Noah never let me see him cry, no matter how bad or hard my father hit him, I’d never once seen him shed a tear. But here and now I could feel my t-shirt being stained by his tears as he cried silently on my shoulder. He clawed at my shoulders, his wounded pride eating at him. I had moments every day that reminded me why I hated our father. This was one of the many I had already had today.