Not wanting to wake our parents, knowing they would be pissed, I quietly snuck up to my room, trying not to stumble too much up the stairs. I passed out the moment I hit the bed, not bothering to get under the covers. I couldn’t tell you how long I had been asleep when I woke to someone knocking on the front door, squinting my eyes at the clock to see the time. Who the fuck would be here at fuckin’ five in the morning?
I listen as my dad answered the door. I didn’t pay attention to anything else as I try to go back to sleep. As I started to drift off, my mom’s screams of pain grabbed my attention. I rushed down the stairs to see two police officers standing there as my dad held my mom while she continued to cry.
“What’s going on?” I asked confused. Both my parents whipped their heads in my direction. If looks could kill, my mom’s eyes would have shot daggers into my chest. I knew I wasn’t the child they wanted, that was my brother.
“Our son was killed in an accident last night, Elizabeth. It’s all your fault! I should have aborted you like I wanted. At least then my son would still be here,” my mom screamed at me as she crumpled in my dad’s arms.
“No,” I whispered. I don’t remember much after that as everything became a blur as I stood there watching my parents hold each other.
Chase was gone and it was my fault. Oh my god. Why him? Why did he have to be killed in an accident? It was all my fuckin’ fault. He wasn’t just my big brother but my best friend as well. I screwed up and didn’t listen to him when I should have and now, he’s gone. I guess that’s what he meant about that fine line.
I will never forgive myself for what happened.
After that day, I stopped partying altogether, concentrating on finishing school, my brother’s words staying with me the entire time. I pushed myself to become more. I left home the day I turned eighteen and never looked back. I became one of the best real estate agents in my area and worked my ass off making a name for myself.
Now, six years later, I still feel the pain as if it were yesterday. Some days, I can’t breathe because of it. I’ve carried that pain for so long, I don’t know how to live without it. Since leaving home, I haven’t seen my parents and the only time they call is when they feel the need to torture me. They blame me as much as I blame myself.
I still drink, a lot, but never to the point of getting shit-faced. I haven’t been that wasted since the night I asked him to pick me up. During the week, I’m all work but on the weekends, I drink and have a lot of sex. I use men to cope with the pain— it’s my escape, even if only for a little while. The rougher the man is with me, the better. I need the pain to ease the guilt I feel every moment of the day.
I made new friends in the town I call home. Kenny became my best friend along with Lynsdey and Cleo. The only thing is, they don’t know anything about my brother. They just think I drink on the weekends and get shit-faced but know my limit. They also don’t know what I do with the men I hook up with.
I also won’t let them find out about the time I was with the only man that could take away the pain completely. The man fucked me so good I was able to sleep for the first time ever without the thoughts of my brother’s death hanging over me.
When I saw him again, a little over a year ago, I about dropped the glass I was filling with a shot of Gentleman Jack. I could barely keep my heart contained in my chest as it started to pound. The smile he gave me had my panties wet and ready for more of what I knew he could do to me.
Holy hell, that man was still hot as can be. When Kenny introduced us, I knew he had been put in a different category. You never go for your best friend’s brother. That’s a complete no-go for me. He was supposed to be a one-night stand. He said he was just visiting the area. Worked for me, I didn’t do relationships. Ever!
Now, he’s moved to the area. And he made sure I knew he wanted me back in his bed. No matter how much I want to be under him and have him roughly take me, I won’t hurt my friendship with Kenny to be with her brother.
Twister is a no-go for me. I would feel worse using him now that I know who he is.
As much as I need the feel of his hands around my throat, I need to find someone else. Especially with it being that time of the year. Every year it’s worse the closer to the anniversary. The day of, I can barely cope.
I don’t even know if I can make it this year. The guilt swallows me. I can barely breathe these days. The weight of my guilt is unbearable. I need something to get through it and I refuse to turn to drugs. That won’t help. I tried once. The only thing that has ever worked was, and still is, rough sex. The only time a sense of relief fills me is when I’m being choked during sex, the pain is what I need most.
The rougher the better, and I don’t want it any other way. It’s the only thing I’ve found that takes the pain away.
At least for a little while.