Chào các bạn! Vì nhiều lý do từ nay Truyen2U chính thức đổi tên là Truyen247.Pro. Mong các bạn tiếp tục ủng hộ truy cập tên miền mới này nhé! Mãi yêu... ♥

twenty-seven




I wasn't sure what I was expecting when I walked into the Keller's house on Sunday, but the "normalcy" of families like theirs felt forced and stale. Despite the warmth and the smell of lasagna that filled the kitchen, there was a tenseness in the air that permeated through it all, lingering throughout dinner. Ella made offhand remarks about the "old man" music that was being played in the background while she nursed a glass of red wine. Brooklyn and his father traded icy glances every so often, a silent conversation I desperately wanted to understand. I felt Brooklyn's knee bobbing up and down restlessly under the table.

"Nat?" Brooklyn nudged me.

"Yeah? Sorry, I zoned out there for a minute," I said and shook my head.

"Do you want wine?" He asked.

I swallowed hard, glancing over at Brooklyn's glass of soda. "No, I'm okay, thanks."

While the wine bottle continued to be passed around the table, Brooklyn leaned over to me and said softly, "You know, you can drink even though I'm not."

There was a strained sense of urging in his voice, and it made my gut twist into a tight knot. While I didn't know the first thing about a "normal" family, all Brooklyn wanted was for everyone to be normal around him.

"It's okay," I gave him a faint smile and squeezed his hand under the table. "Really, it is."

I hoped he knew my words meant more than just declining a glass of wine. I was overwhelmed with a need to protect him. The tenseness began to dissipate, and as he eased up beside me, we actually enjoyed dinner. I fielded all the general questions about myself that Mrs. Keller asked - tiptoeing around being jobless - thankful the heat was taken off of Brooklyn. His father observed in silence, but his gaze still unnerved me.

I helped Ella load the dishwasher after dinner, and even in the comfortable silence I felt Ella's gaze on me.

"What?" I asked with my eyebrow raised.

"You really are good for my brother," Ella said with a casual shrug. "But I think you knew that already."

Ella smirked when I whipped my head around to make sure he hadn't been listening. "Where'd he go?" Natalie asked.

Ella pointed to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the kitchen. "To go smoke, I think." She jerked her head in the direction of the doors. "Don't worry, I'll finish this."

I made my way onto the back deck but slowed to a stop when I saw Brooklyn down by the water. He had his back to me, his silhouette faintly illuminated by the dim glow of the lights coming through the windows of the house. Smoke hovered around him in grey clouds that danced up his shoulders and neck until they dissolved into the night.

It was the smallest of things. The way the wind whipped his hair in every direction. The way he'd crack his neck every so often. Every little move he made captivated me. I was beginning to accept how deep into this I was - so deep the light barely reached me.

"Hey you," I said as I approached him.

Brooklyn turned around, and his eyes lit up.

"Hey yourself," he grinned. He tossed his cigarette into the distance, watching the faint burning light disappear into the blackness of the bay.

A gust of wind whipped through me and sent a nasty shiver through my bones. Without a word, Brooklyn wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head. My cheek brushed against the soft, threadbare material of the Clemson football sweatshirt he had thrown on and inhaled his usual cigarettes and citrus scent that I had grown so used to. I would have stayed there all night if I could.

"Thanks for coming tonight," he mumbled into my hair.

"Of course," I sighed out. I pulled away from him, and the glint in his eyes was gone. That dark, empty, lonely look took over. He reached into his pocket and lit another cigarette, taking a long heaving drag to fill his lungs.

"I felt normal, for once," he said. "I felt...okay."

"I think you are okay," I replied, reaching down and grabbing his hand, feeling him flinch under my touch. We stood outside for a while in silence, the gentle sounds of the ocean floating through the night air.

"It's getting kind of chilly, let's go inside," Brooklyn said as he died his cigarette out under the toe of his shoe. I nodded in response, letting him lead me through the back door and up the stairs. A warm feeling radiated through me as Brooklyn pulled me into his room, something I barely recognized as lust until he quietly shut the door behind us and studied me with dark, hungry eyes.

In a split second his lips were on mine, his touch like a spark that set off fireworks inside me. We slowly meandered across the floor of his room, refusing to separate as we stumbled to his bed. I had kissed him dozens of times, but the way his hands glided effortlessly but still so sensually along my skin put me on another level - one that damn near separated my soul from my body.

"Nat," he whispered softly, still so close to me I felt his lips brush against my ear.

"Yeah?"

"I just uh..."  He exhaled heavily, his breath hot on my cheek. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me this summer. I would have probably been face down in a ditch by now if it wasn't for you."

My heart nearly burst. I smiled at him, letting my fingers gently run down his cheeks. "Don't thank me. You've done so much for me too. Everything that's been going on, it would have been really easy for me to lock myself in my room all summer, but you made sure I didn't. You really are a good guy. My life was like a storm, but you brought me sunshine."

Brooklyn gave me the cheesiest, brightest smile I had ever seen. I wanted to stop time. He kissed me again, pressing his body into mine. I was in such a haze, his scent and his touch clouding all my senses, that I barely registered the voice calling from the hall. We jerked away from each other as someone pounded on his bedroom door.

"Brooklyn," his father's voice boomed from the other side of the door. "I need you to come downstairs for a minute."

Brooklyn let out a heavy sigh, shooting me an apologetic look as he shimmied out off of me and rolled off the bed. He pulled at the strings on his hoodie.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm sure my dad is looking to just ruin a good night by drug testing me."

I gave him a faint smile in response, but worry must have veiled my eyes, because he leaned down and kissed my forehead. "Which I will obviously pass. I'll only be a few minutes, I promise."

I nodded, watching Brooklyn turn and walk out, shutting the door behind him. A heavy breath escaped my lips as I laid back on Brooklyn's bed, watching the ceiling fan cast shadows on the walls. This hadn't been the first time - and wouldn't be the last time - I'd be left alone in Brooklyn's room, and the logical side of me knew this was all part of what I signed up for, but I still anxiously bit at my fingernails and watched the clock on his bedside table turn minutes into hours. At least, that's what it felt like.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and cautiously walked over to the door, pressing my ear to the side of it. Nothing but silence.

My shoulders dropped as I sighed out another breath. I was desperate to unwind the anxious ball welling up inside of me, shaking myself out of my thoughts as I walked back to Brooklyn's bed. Just as I was about to sit down and try to relax, my foot collided with something hard sticking out from under the bed.

Wincing in pain, I dropped to the floor, rubbing the bruise that had already begun to develop on the top of my foot. I glanced under the bed at whatever I had kicked, noticing the corner of a wooden box peeking out from behind the comforter.

I could have just pushed it back under the bed, but I didn't. I was still trying to figure out where the lines blurred between being trustworthy and being overbearing. Maybe it had been my already rattled nerves, or maybe it had been just pure curiosity, but I pulled the box out in front of me, running my hands over the smooth, dark wood. It was heavy in my hands, but the top of the box slid off with ease, and I was instantly greeted with a heavy, musky scent.

            Relief washed over me when I realized what was actually in the box. About a dozen cigars were stacked neatly inside, some wrapped in plastic while others were covered in intricate paper labels. I picked up a more expensive looking one, with a big gold foil label that read Romeo Y Julieta.

            I inwardly kicked myself for letting my worry get the best of me, and I was about to put the box back when I noticed a white envelope pressed underneath the cigars. My heart began to pound heavy against my ribs as I ran my fingers over the bumps and grooves of the envelope's contents.

            When I emptied it, my heart shattered so loudly it rang out in my ears like a gunshot.

Two tiny plastic bags sat on the floor in front of me, and a sickening, nauseous feeling rolled through me as I picked them up and surveyed their contents. One contained a handful of tiny blue pills and three larger white bars, and the other was filled with white powder. I clenched my eyes shut, but when I opened them again, the bags were still in my shaking hands.

I didn't know how long I sat on the floor of Brooklyn's bedroom, so painfully heartbroken and completely dumbfounded, but it was long enough so that the heavy, sick feeling that filled my stomach bubbled and festered until it turned into rage. I was like an active volcano.

Eventually I heard the door open behind me, but I didn't turn around.

"Nat? Why are you on the floor?" Brooklyn asked.

I blinked away the tears that stung the corners of my eyes before shakily rising to my feet and turning to face him. Just looking at him, his blue eyes still filled with a haze of lust from earlier, made my heart break even more.

"What is this?" I choked out, shaking the bags at him. Every time I tried to swallow, it was like there was glass in my throat. I clenched my other hand into a fist, hoping the stinging pain from my nails in my palm would wake me up from whatever nightmare I was having.

Brooklyn's voice dropped to a low whisper. "Where did you get that?"

"This box was sticking out from under your bed!" I kicked the box towards him. The color from his cheeks drained, and he made a move to grab the bags out of my hand, but I jerked back.

"Nat, come on are you serious?" He chuckled dryly, trying to hide the panic in his voice. "It's a humidor for cigars, it keeps them from going bad. I probably haven't opened that in months. That stuff could have been from-"

"Bullshit," I snapped before he could finish. My voice began to crack. "You literally just got through telling me how okay you were. After everything you just said to me that was all so meaningful and...I thought..." I choked back a sob, my head heavy and spinning. "You promised Brooklyn!"

"Nat, I swear," Brooklyn pleaded. He rubbed at his eyes, which were now dark and glassy. "I didn't even know I had any of that."

"I don't care." I shoved the bags in his hands. "Get rid of it. Now."

He slowly crept towards the bathroom door. He held his hands up as if he was under fire. "Okay, I'll get rid of it."

I followed him into the bathroom, watching him dump the bags' contents into the toilet. I wanted to just keel over and vomit, but I swallowed it back. He threw the bags in the trash can and moved back towards me, but I pulled away. I wrapped my cardigan tightly around me, as if it were a layer of armor. But the damage that was done was internal, and no amount of armor would have protected me now.

"Natalie..." Brooklyn moved toward me again, but I took another step back.

"Just take me home." I turned on my heel and made a beeline for the stairs. I heard Brooklyn's hurried footsteps behind me, but I kept my quick pace straight for his car.

We drove home in silence with the windows cracked open. The wind was cool and dried the sweat on the back of my neck. When we pulled up to my house, Brooklyn killed the engine.

"Natalie, please." He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away again.

"Don't," I snapped. I pushed the car door open and slammed it behind me. I thought I heard Brooklyn call my name again, but he sounded far, far away. Maybe in another life I would have turned around, but I kept my head down and disappeared into the house.

I sat on the edge of my bed and hung my head between my knees. I felt so ill, and even in the dark my room spun  around me. I stayed in that position and waited for the engine on Brooklyn's car to turn. After a deadly silent few minutes, I heard the Jeep rumble as it drove away from my street. I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, not even bothering to change out of my dress. My sweater still smelled like him. I rolled over, burying my face into my pillow, and I screamed.

✗✗✗

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro