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“Honestly, I don’t know if I do. It’s hard to see past the anger, and I don’t think we made enough memories or spent enough time together. Can you miss something you truly never had?” That’s a rhetorical question and it’s one I can’t believe I never thought of in the past.
“I think you can. I think you can miss the idea of what someone could have been.” She emphasizes the have, which is true. “Think about it. You see the way a great mother should be, you also see the relationship and love a mother should have for her child. So maybe you miss the idea of what she was supposed to be.”
Damn, that was deep. I know I crave that connection, the one that a mother gives to her child. Sure, I have Kathy and by God she’s such a good woman, but she came into my life after I learned why my mother left, when the damage was already done. I accept her as my mom, but I still yearn for that love from the one who birthed me, the one who is biologically programmed to love me but didn’t.
This is all too much thinking for one night, between Evan pissing me off and the conversation about my mom, I think I’ve hit my quota of heavy fucking things.
“You’re pretty damn smart, L. Too smart for your own good.”
“Jealous?” she teases. I notice her eyes are swollen but dry, she isn’t crying anymore and that brings some comfort to me. I don’t do too well with emotions, which doesn’t make sense to me because I’m an emotional guy. I’ve noticed that I wear my heart on my sleeve. Many people would say I’m weak or a pussy, but I don’t give a shit. Fuck them.
“Not in the slightest, I’m way smarter than you.”
“Such a gentleman. You’re chivalry is modest.”
We laugh in unison and I feel better already. My mind is no longer filled with thoughts of Evan and his cocky fucking face. Well, for now at least.
“All right kid, I have a feeling Shay’s going to be with Kingston for a while, so what do we do? I’m thinking room service and a gore-filled horror film with zero romance.” I stand up and head to the nightstand where the menu is.
“Sounds like a plan to me. Blood and guts with booze and food. Perfect.”
Shayla
“KINGS, OPEN UP!” I pound my fist against the door repeatedly. I’m worried about my brother. The way Lana stormed into our room, red faced and sobbing, I can’t even imagine the state of my brother. Lana is stone-cold when it comes to her emotions sometimes. She became emotionally muted after the abuse; to her it’s better to hide emotions than be punished relentlessly for them. Kingston, however, was raised by my dad, the most emotional, loving, and forgiving man on the planet—let’s not forget hotheaded. My dad fought so hard to keep my mother as his wife, trying to stop her from going out every night and being unfaithful to him. He took that crap from her for years before he finally gave up. Kingston is a stubborn man, so add that on top of everything else and you get the unstoppable force. He won’t stop fighting until Lana is his, I don’t doubt it.
The door opens slowly, greeted by Kingston, his face red and tight, the anger permeating off him.
“Kings?” I question, walking through the threshold. I immediat
ely wrap my arms around my big brother. There’s such a stark contrast between us. I’m short and thin, Kingston’s tall with slabs of hard, defined muscles. He was my teddy bear growing up. In fact, he still is, protecting me from anything that threatened to hurt me. My heart aches when I see him this sad and defeated, looking for someone or something to fix him. Tonight, right now, I need to be his protector, help him through this.
“She’s never gonna trust me or let me in, I’m not the damn problem, Shay. She is!” he shouts into the space around us. His arms are at his sides, my arms wrapped around his heated skin.
“I’m sorry, big guy. I wish there was something I could say that would make this better, you know, to help you both. But all I can do is listen.” His body’s so warm I can tell he’s nowhere near calm. I let go so he can move around the room and release the pent-up aggression.
“I need a fucking drink.” He moves to the mini bar, pulling out a shot glass and bottle of whiskey, he pours it into the tumbler and then throws it back, his face twisting with the burn.
“What happened?” I’m not sure what to say to him, but I think this is a safe start.
“This.” He lifts his shirt, between the dips of his hip where the infamous V sits, is Lana’s name. The black, intricate ink encrypted into his skin, claiming her to him. “This shit happened.”
I study what he’s showing me, my head a tad dizzy. Oh, buddy, no.
“Kings…” My voice trails off. He doesn’t need me to tell him what I’m thinking. It’s plastered on my face. No wonder they fought. Lana’s terrified of his possessive ways, so he logically thought this tattoo would make it better. Though he is lovable, he is not acting logical.
“I know, I realize now what a fucking terrible idea it was. I should go add a tattoo to my forehead that says ‘Warning: this man is a dumbass, approach with caution.’” He slams the tumbler down and slaps his hand to his forehead.
“No, you shouldn’t. But you did it to show her you love her. You love her, right?”
He sits on the couch with his newly filled whiskey glass clenched tightly in his hands. The muscles in his arms flexing with his attempt at restraint and the tick in his jaw looks almost painful. The tattoos on his arms and back are vibrant against the lights from the ceiling. He’s twenty-four and has barely any room left for more tattoos. Other than his neck, feet, hands, and tiny areas throughout his body, he’s covered in intricate stories of his life. My favorite is my name tattooed above his heart. I love my big brother, my hero.
His head turns slightly in my direction, the light catching the gleam in his eyes, making them spark a new discovery. His face turns stoic. “I’m devastatingly fucking ruined. I’m caught in captivity by the feelings I have for that woman. Saying I love her can’t even touch the magnitude of love I’m feeling inside of me.”
Shot to the heart. This is not the brother I once knew; he’s emulating a different person, one with mature, capable feelings. I mean really, I didn’t know he had it in him.
“Well, crap, Kingston.” We both stay silent as I sit next to him on the couch. “I think I need a drink,” I state, taking the tumbler from his hand and downing the rest of its contents.
“If it makes you feel better, somewhere deep in my heart, I know you guys will be together. In the way you want to, not just as a fling. Lana is your person. Just ride it out, fight for her.” He nods slowly, letting the thought tumble around his brain.
