I can’t remember what she said, maybe because I wasn’t listening – I was too busy staring at the beautiful flustered face and angry eyes. But I do know the scolding went on for a good five minutes. And both Logan and I promised not to go down that slope again for the remainder of our holiday.
Of course, we didn’t keep our promise and Logan broke two fingers. Boy was that girl pissed … at ME. Not Logan, or the twins. Just me. She didn’t speak to me for a month.
I sigh deeply and stare at the glistening peaks towering up into the super blue sky. It’s mindbogglingly gorgeous – like it belongs on a Hallmark X-mas card. It sort of puts things into perspective, but it does just plain fuckall for the pain in my chest.
A chilly wind blows right through my apple green down jacket, through both the flannel shirt and long-sleeve transitional top, to chill my skin right to the bone. It’s a cold dreary day.
Almost as dreary as my mood these past weeks. I’m in hell. The deepest pit of the abode of the damned is where I got stuck.
Yep, I’m burning in the other world – my heart in a state of ill-being – due to one girl’s deception.
A girl I love so much, that I can’t seem to live without her anymore, even if she dropped me into eternal damnation.
I’m not sure exactly where it started going wrong – oh, wait, I know exactly where – the moment she and my brother sucked out each other’s brains. Right there and then is where it started – the two people I should be able to trust the most, decided to rip out my heart.
And that’s that. Both stories seemingly ended before they began. Mel destroyed my life and cast me into the darkness forever. And I will never call Alejandro my brother, to me he’s nothing.
That night I returned from Italy … I was not sure what I was expecting … but it for sure as hell was not finding her at my place … waiting at the door all sexy and innocent in my shirt. I wanted her to explain the photo … to tell me it was a mistake … that she loves me and only me.
But as I came down after taking a cold shower, she was gone.
Now, imagine the fear Harry felt when that Boggart turned into a Dementor, multiply it by a hundred-thousand, and add to that another billion – that’s the fear factor I was experiencing right that moment. Scared shitless that something happened to her.
I was running around in the dark like a mindless soul trying to find her. And when I eventually got the call from my mother that she was in the hospital and dragged my sorry ass over there – she was lying in HIS arms.
I fucking lost it and started to drive. And I kept going North for some reason, until my brain started to process thoughts again, and chose to come here.
“Woof!” A fucking dog suddenly barks right next to my ear scaring the bejeezus out of me. The puppy is dressed up in a padded waterproof vest and dog boots – in a matching cherry red color.
“Good boy.” I turn my head to face the very last person I want to see. “I’m training him to be a cadaver dog. Guess you look and smell like a fucking walking dead corpse.” Not funny.
But I suppose since I feel like a corpse, I might smell like one too … having skipped a few baths.
“How did you find me?”
He snorts. “GPS tracking on your truck.” Fuck. I get up. I’m not in the mood for this shit.
I grab my board and helmet, strapping them on as if no one is around. He doesn’t say a word, but I can feel his icy eyes slicing through me. Well, fuck him solid.
I slide over the edge. I’m in no hurry to face him. As far as delaying tactics go, a double black diamond slope feels like a good one.
I crane down the slope at neck-breaking speed, feeling pretty slick for ditching the backstabber, when suddenly he pallets past.
Showoff.
So he can snowboard. Pretty darn well it seems.
“Whoo!” he screams and the echo of him whooping it up hits me in the gut. Why is he here? To rub it in? To tell me that Mel chose him as if I don’t already know that?
I board straight to my place – one up of having a ski-in/ski-out property – to find the annoying ass sharing my DNA standing at my door, grinning as if he didn’t wreck my whole fucking life. I bite my teeth so as not to hit him right on his perfect bloody nose.
“What do you want?” I grunt. His smile dissipates and turns into a deep scowl.
“To talk.” I know there’s no getting past this. I’ll hear what he wants to say and then I never want to fucking see him again.
We strip our top layers in the mudroom. He removes the dog’s shoes and coat.
“Nice place you have here.”
“Not in the mood for small talk … brother,” I seethe, pulling out the last word in disgust, as our eyes meet. How could I miss it? He has Dad’s eyes … Lori’s eyes. Being reminded of my sister pisses me off even more.
“I see.” His placidness irritates the hell out of me. “Well, let’s get straight to the point then. What is your fucking problem?” I lead the way to the kitchen, enjoying the warmth of the underfloor heating through my wool socks.
Showtime.
I pour two cups of coffee and for a split second, I want to flee. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to hear him say that they’re together. I really don’t.
But I turn to face the music.
“You,” I hiss, “You are my fucking problem.” Hurt flashes in his eyes and my broken heart regrets. Just for a moment, but it was there.
“I … eh … I don’t want to take your place …” he says hesitantly while tugging his navy blue beanie over his ears.
“No,” I interrupt harshly, anger flushing through my veins to burn in my dead heart, “Well, your actions speak otherwise. You wiggled your way right into my spot, didn’t you?” His eyes lose their calm. Great. I’ve lost mine the moment he showed up. Or more precisely the moment he took my girl.
“Wiggled? Oh, grow the fuck up, bro. I just want to get to know my family.” His eyes are blazing now.
“Really,” I’m being as snotty as I can be. I deserve a fucking trophy for my control skills. “Just a hint, backstabbing your brother is not a great start.” I can see his jaw clenching as if that is an asinine accusation. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath.
“Backstabbing?” He steps closer, we’re face to face, and I must admit, he looks all the way as dangerous as Jackson. He taps a finger into my chest … right there where my heart is supposed to be. The one he ripped out.
“How?” Is he dumb or just plain stupid? How can he not figure it out? I wonder if Dad knows his oldest is a moron.
I’m done with this bullshit. I grab his checkered button-up flannel shirt and jerk my head forward, hitting him right in the face. His head whiplashes and he staggers back. I let go of his shirt.
The dog growls and takes a stance between us with bared teeth. Right now I have enough dumb anger to take them both on.
“Jinx, down!” he orders and the pup falls to the ground.