Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel (5 page)

BOOK: Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel
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“I love you more than anything in this world.” She disconnected.

He smiled at the phone; she’d always told him and his siblings that. It was true, too. She did love them more than herself, more than his father, and more than having a life herself. It was sad. He sighed and put the phone down.

Millie snaked her arms around his middle and hugged him from behind. “I’ll go with you,” she said softly.

He shook his head. He couldn’t have Millie there. He never had anyone come to his house with him; his brother was too much for anyone to handle.

“No,” he said. “It’ll be a short trip and my mom is really tired. I’ll be taking care of Trevor.”

Billy looked at Patrick from the den. “He okay?”

Patrick shrugged. “Same old, I think.” He walked to his room to get a second to himself, but Millie followed him.

“What’s going on?” Millie asked after she closed the door. “Why don’t you want me to meet your family?”

He sank to the bed. Patrick didn’t tell people about his family…he didn’t want to think about it, mostly. “Are you really going to make me tell you all this, Mil? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Patrick, you love me, right?”

He nodded. He did, the only way he could.

“I want to know everything about you. I want you to trust me enough to tell me everything.” Millie stepped in between his knees where he was sitting on the bed and cradled his head into her belly. “I love you.”

“Fine,” he said into the fabric of her dress. It was red. Millie looked really good in red. He lifted her dress over her hips and pulled her onto his lap. He hands roamed over her ass and her lower back. She felt amazing. Her skin was soft and she smelled like vanilla. He positioned her legs so that she was straddling him; she leaned in and kissed his neck.

“You’re not distracting me,” she said breathlessly into his ear.

Patrick pulled aside her thong and proceeded to distract her thoroughly. Millie forgot about dinner and their conversation as his hands, tongue, and dick entertained her in every possible way.

Katrina was waiting for him at the curb when he exited the Savannah/Hilton Head Airport. It was a small airport and didn’t have strict rules about cars waiting on the curb for passengers, which was a welcome change from National Airport. She got out of their mom’s car and embraced him. They hadn’t seen each other since Christmas five months ago. She was his baby sister and he missed her more than she probably understood; he made sure she knew he loved her even if he bailed out of their house as soon as he could. Although they kept in touch via emails and text messages mostly, she knew if she needed him he’d be there.

“Ugh, I love you,” she said into his chest.

“Miss your ass.” He laughed and rested his chin on top of her head. “So what’s been going on?” he asked as they let go of each other.

“Oh, you know same old shit.” She closed the trunk after he threw in his duffel bag. She looked at him, but her eyes were hidden by Ray-bans. “Mom’s exhausted, Trevor’s sick again.”

Patrick didn’t want to begin his trip with the inevitable. “How’s work?” he asked, changing the subject.

“It’s fine, Patrick.” She sighed and slid into the driver’s seat.

Patrick looked straight ahead. “I’m sorry. I know you think I ran from this situation so I didn’t have to help.”
Just like Dad
. He put his seatbelt on as they began moving. “Hell, maybe I did. It’s just so fucking hard to see.”

He took her in; she looked good. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, her bronze eyes were covered by the sunglasses, and she had a rich color to her skin that meant she’d been to the beach. Katrina was a nurse and stayed close to home so she could help with Trevor’s care. Some weeks were better than others, as far as he understood.

“You take Trevor to the beach?”

She nodded and smiled tightly. “You know he loves the beach, but it’s hard to explain a grown ass man wanting to play with all the kids and make sandcastles. Parents don’t really appreciate that.”

What most people didn’t realize about what happened to Trevor was that it happened to their entire family. When Trevor was shot, it took away all his dreams, aspirations, and realities and replaced them with a fucking tween. Trevor was a fantastic baseball player and was hoping to get drafted into the majors. He was serious about his craft and where he was headed in life, and college was first. Now, he was perpetually an adolescent no matter the age of his body. The doctors had explained that because of the length of time his brain was deprived of oxygen, he’d mentally stayed the same age. He didn’t want to use deodorant or take a bath, he grabbed women’s breasts, and he couldn’t really be taken anywhere easily. Their father left the year after Trevor was injured in a drive by shooting because he couldn’t handle it. Patrick left four years later to go to University of Georgia and got the hell out of dodge. He never looked back. He loved Trevor, but it was an impossible situation that he just wasn’t equipped to deal with on a day-to-day basis. His mom had to deal with things that Patrick wouldn’t wish on anyone. She hadn’t been able to have a life since Trevor came home from the hospital, while his father was remarried to a woman his sister’s age—it was fucking disgusting.

They rode in silence until they got to the neighborhood where they’d lived Patrick’s entire life. Katrina still lived with their mother so that she got some relief every once in awhile. Instead of doing things for herself, his mom usually just slept. He and Katrina had tried to get her to hire someone to care for Trevor, but she’d refused every time. He’d even offered to pay, it didn’t change her mind.

As they pulled into the driveway, the door opened. Trevor stood in the doorway with a big grin.

“Big brother!” he yelled and ran outside to embrace Patrick. Patrick took a deep breath; Trevor was over three hundred pounds now, his head shaved because his mom could manage that best. Trevor looked nothing like the brother Patrick knew.

“Hey, man,” Patrick said while they hugged, “guess what I brought?”

“You brought me a toy?” Trevor asked excitedly.

“I bought you a new glove,” Patrick answered.

“A new one?”

“Yep, I know you like your old one, but I thought we could break in this new one while I was here.” Patrick walked to the trunk and grabbed his bag.

“Hey, KK.” Trevor waved at Katrina.

“Hey, baby boy.” Katrina waved back from the car. “I’ve got to go to work. I’ll be back for dinner, okay?”

“Okay.” Trevor turned to walk back inside and Patrick noticed that he was wearing Avenger pajamas.

Why was he wearing pajamas in the middle of the day?
Patrick sighed. He didn’t know why he always came here with some glimmer of hope that something had changed. Trevor was still really stuck in the mind of a young boy and very much selfish in every way. He was glad to see Patrick, but was obviously more interested in something else he was doing.

Patrick turned to look at Katrina, who shrugged. “Typical,” she sighed. “I’ll be back after my shift. I look forward to catching up.”

“Okay, thanks for the ride.” Patrick leaned into the passenger side window so he could see his sister. “Anything else I need to know?”

Katrina thought a minute and a grin spread across her face. “Oh, yeah. He’s discovered porn on the internet.”

Patrick’s mouth dropped open.

“Have fun with that,” Katrina said as she slowly backed out of the driveway, leaving Patrick to think about how to deal with his brother and porn.

He threw his bag over his shoulder and walked inside, closing the door after him. His mother met him in the foyer. Her beautiful smile never faltered, even with everything she dealt with, but her eyes were tired.

“I thought I heard the door open,” she said, hugging Patrick and then kissing him on the cheek.

“See, you’re kissing Patrick!” Trevor called from where he was playing video games.

“He’s family, T. You can kiss family on the cheek,” their mother said without any sarcasm.

Patrick took in his proud, strong, mother. She looked tired. More tired than last time he was home. Her red hair had been cut short since Trevor became a fulltime job. Her eyes were tired and weary, but her smile lit up her face. He’d gotten his steely blue eyes from her, the color of the North Carolina Tar Heels. She was pretty, even for her age. Patrick thought she looked elegant, even in her tracksuit. He’d always imagined she’d had a very hard time where they lived, a white woman with three mixed kids and no father around. Not to mention that one of the kids had special needs and was a kid trapped in an adult’s body. Trevor’s traumatic brain injury meant he received disability, but it wasn’t all that helpful. The results of his injury had been so catastrophic that their mom had to stay home with him to care for him. He knew that his mother hated quitting her accounting job after Trevor was shot, but it was necessary. Helping him recover was a full-time job. His father sure as hell didn’t make the sacrifice.

Because of oxygen deprivation that happened after he was shot, Trevor fought with many lasting effects or “complications” from the damage it did to his brain. “Complications” is such a slippery description. As if things could get more complicated for the poor guy. His memory was full of holes; you could tell him one thing on Friday and he’d forget by Monday. He went through spells of massive depression. He had times when he didn’t know he needed to go to the bathroom, which resulted in him wearing adult diapers or their mother having to clean up accidents.

His mother was a saint.

“I missed you, Mom,” Patrick said as he followed her into the kitchen.

She started pulling out glasses. “You want some tea, baby?”

“Sure,” he answered. “Things okay?”

“Sure,” she answered flatly.

“You need some money?” he asked quietly. “I thought I’d move some over while I’m here.”

“Oh, baby, that’d be great. Your dad sent a check for Trevor’s birthday too. I couldn’t believe it.”

“Where is he now?”

“Utah.” She got the pitcher out and poured two glasses of sweet tea. “Hill Air Force Base.”

“Utah, huh?” Patrick hadn’t spoken to his father in fourteen years, since the day he left. He’d walked out without looking back at the family that needed him, the family that was falling apart trying to care for Trevor. He had no interest in getting in touch with the bastard.

“Yep, he’s some big wig out there.” She moved to sit at the kitchen table and look out the window.

“Why don’t you go take a nap or whatever you need to do?” Patrick suggested. “I’ve got him. I’ll be here for a few days and hopefully that’ll give you and KK a break.”

She smiled weakly at Patrick. “Thanks, baby boy.” She rose from the table. “We’ll catch up later, okay? I’ll just take a quick nap.” She ran a hand over his shoulder and disappeared into the back bedroom.

Patrick took his tea into the den where Trevor sat, playing video games. “Let’s go to the park, man, throw the ball around.”

“Let me finish this game, ‘kay?”

“Okay, bud.” Patrick sat down and watched the video game and thought about his brother, the one that died on the ground that night, the one that taught him everything he knew about ball, girls, and fighting. He owed Trevor. He wished he knew how to help; he just didn’t. He didn’t know how to treat him.

Fucking impossible situation
.

Katrina smiled down at him as he lay splayed on his childhood bed in a room that hadn’t changed a bit. Posters of Chipper and Andruw Jones, along with his favorite catcher of all time, Mike Piazza, were still on his wall and pictures were still stuck in the bookcase his dad had put together right before he left. He covered his eyes by draping his arm over his head.

“You ready to get up?” Katrina asked.

“Well, you haven’t really given me an option about that, have you?”

“Well, my best friend from the hospital wants to meet for lunch and I know you want to get a run in, so I’m waking you up.”

“What does you going to lunch with a friend have to do with me?” Patrick peeked above his arm at her, noticing that she was dressed in a sundress and flip flops already.

“It’s already ten. I mean, do you sleep this late in DC?”

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