Loving His Forever (2 page)

That night three years ago changed my life forever. I’ve lived on the street for the past two, not having the will to do anything but drown in my own misery. I have nothing to live for. No family. I have Sydney, but I can’t drag her into this. It’s my problem. She will probably never talk to me again considering I left without a goodbye.

Putting my hand in front of me, I stare at my cracked, dirty hands. My hands shake from the hunger. Digging through the trash is something I’ve become accustomed to. I look up and see feet walk into the alley I’m in. I stiffen, readying my body to run. One thing I learned is to stay hidden and blind.

A man’s feet stop near my foot, and that’s when feel him touching the top of my head. My breath hitches. Pulling back, I look up at the man. Then a strangled sob escapes. Those leering, evil eyes that haunt my dreams every night are staring right at me.

I scoot back on my butt as far and fast as possible as I try to put distance between us.
Dear God, please don’t let this man hurt me again. I beg you.
My body trembles. My body is stiffened with fear.

“Ah, my Braelyn. I finally found you. Well, I may have found you a while back, but I have just now decided to make my move. Now it’s time to take what’s mine. One time with you wasn’t enough.” He chuckles darkly as he moves closer and closer. His hair looks greasier than the last time I saw him, and his body is throwing off an odor that’s making me dizzy from the need to vomit.

Gripping the wall behind me, I push myself up to a standing position. The old me glimmers through. Determination is what I feel. I’m so sick and tired of being afraid. I’m not going down without a fight. I’m not sure I can take it again if he does what he did to me before.

I let out a shaky breath as I glare at the man in front of me, watching his movements like a hawk. This man belittles me and makes me feel like scum under his feet. He makes fun of me. I’m not worthless. I used to feel like something before he decided to take what wasn’t his.

“Why?” I ask him. I have asked myself this for years. Why did he do what he did? Why me? What did I do to deserve the shit hand I have been dealt with in life?

“Oh, why not you, Braelyn?” he mocks me and then looks behind him before taking a step closer toward me. His eyes roam my body, a body that is dirty and swallowed by clothes four times too big, a body that used to be half good to look at and now is skin and bones. Shame fills me because of what I’ve become.
Why did you do this to yourself, Braelyn?
You had your whole entire life ahead of you.
Now, I just exist, taking up space, not living as life passes me by in a daydream. My new life is filled with being hungry and feeling cold.

Lost in my thoughts, I’m taken off guard when he pushes me against the wall, hard. The back of my head hits the concrete wall and I fall to the ground with a hard thud. Black spots cloud my vision as a wave of dizziness rushes over me; having not eaten in days isn’t helping. I grasp my head and groan.

His hand touches my belly. Vomit crawls up my throat. I kick out blindly and hit something soft. He grunts and his hand leaves me. Digging my hands into the concrete, I push myself up. My attacker is lying on his side, groaning and cupping his junk.

For the first time in months, I smile. I smile because I got a little revenge and feel empowered. But me feeling strong doesn’t last long, because he pushes himself up and crosses the distance between us in a split second before he tackles me to the ground. I should have run when I could.

I grab his greasy hair and pull his head away from me as his mouth is trying to slam down onto mine, his yellow teeth on display. Panic shoots through me as his hands fumble at the waistband of my pants.

I pull his hair harder so I can bring my other hand up and push my thumb into his eye. The gut-wrenching feeling of his eye pushed back into his skull slides up my fingers. He jerks off of me, and I knee him hard in the balls. I manage to push him off. I look around wildly until I spot the bus across the street. I jump to my feet. Running with all the strength I have left, I cross the street and jump onto the bus. I give the bus driver what little money I own after I look at the sign: Raleigh, Texas. It’s meant to be. I’m coming to you, Sydney.

Braelyn

I walk up the driveway as I look at the address I got from someone in town. A house comes into view, and I instantly know she lives here. This is the house she talked about all the time in the dorm room we spent many nights talking.

My body is bone tired, but I push forward anyway. I let out a deep breath and walk the rest of the way to her house.

I hesitate knocking on the door. Closing my eyes, I push back the tears. I bite my lip hard to distract myself from the emotions trying to pour out of me. I’m scared, helpless, and with nowhere to go or knowing what to do.
Quit feeling sorry for yourself, Braelyn. You got yourself into this mess.

I knock three times before I step back from the door. I hear someone walking up, and my breathing quickens with nerves. The door unlocks with a click then flies open, revealing Sydney.

Not able to help myself, I run toward her and hug her as tightly as I can. She falls back a couple steps and then starts pushing me off. I let go and step back.

She gasps. “Braelyn?”

I look down at the floor, ashamed, before I answer guiltily, “In the flesh.”

“Where the hell have you been?” she yells at me. I can feel the anger radiating off of her. Not that I blame her; I deserve all her anger and so much more.

Tears cloud my eyes and my heart feels heavy. “It’s a long story.” Her face softens, and I know I’m forgiven just like that. She has to be the most selfless person I know.

“We have plenty of time for that. Let’s get you fed.” She reaches forward and grabs my hand. My stomach growls at the thought of food. I haven’t eaten anything in five days, and my body is showing the symptoms. To be honest, I’m not sure how much longer I could have made it.

She leads me to a stool. I place both of my hands on top of the bar. My arms buckle as I put my weight on them when I lift myself up on the barstool. I tuck my hair behind my ears, but it’s not an easy task because my hands are shaking so bad.

Sydney is staring at me. I can’t even imagine how I look right now. It’s been a very long time since I’ve looked in the mirror.

I watch her as she walks to the cabinet and takes a glass out of the cupboard, fills it to the top with water, grabs a banana off the basket, then sets both down in front of me before she turns around and busies herself doing something over by the sink.

It’s taking everything in me right now not to grab the banana and cram it in. Grabbing the banana stem, I shakily break it and peel the skin. Unable to resist, I swallow half in one bite. I chew slowly as I take in the taste. I close my eyes, moaning. I want to cry as I swallow and the food hits my empty stomach that hasn’t had anything this good in a year.

Sydney slides a plate with two sandwiches in front of me. I finish off the banana and then take a huge bite out of the sandwich, the thought of going slow flying out the window. Once I get to the second one, my body rejects the food and I run out of the kitchen to the bathroom I spotted when I walked into the house.

I fall down hard onto my knees in front of the toilet, making my knees sting. After I purge up all the food I just ate, I fall back onto my butt, feeling almost as weak as I did when I first got here.

“Braelyn?”

Looking up, I see Sydney standing beside me holding a wet washing cloth. “Thank you,” I whisper and clean my face, feeling grosser by the second. I bite my lip to try to hold back the tears.

“I was starving, Sydney.” My voice hitches.

“I know,” she whispers and opens the cabinet under the sink, pulling out an unopened toothbrush and placing it on the counter. “I will be in the kitchen. I think we need to talk.” She places her hand on my back. I stiffen.

She leaves the room, and I grab the edge of the bathtub to pull myself up. Groaning at my aching bones, I stumble as I walk over to the sink. I open the toothbrush package and squirt toothpaste onto the brush, then lift my arm to my mouth and brace my other hand on the sink.

After scrubbing my teeth for a good five minutes, I finally join Sydney, who is sitting on the couch, waiting for me. I nervously twist the bottom of my ratty shirt with my hands.

“Come and sit down,” Sydney says and pats the couch. I sit down beside her, tucking my feet under me, wanting to get it over with because this is the first time I have ever told anyone. The hole in my heart is already throbbing.

“Remember the party we went to at the end of finals?” She nods her head. I continue. “I was leaning against a table when this guy came up to me and threw off some major creeper vibes. My worst mistake was, I didn’t keep my eyes on my drink after I set it behind me on the table…” I trail off. Tears roll down my face as I explain what happened to me.

Sydney’s face crumbles as she starts sobbing. Her arms wrap around my shoulder, and she sobs into my neck. Gritting my teeth, I hold everything in me not to cry along with her.

“You will stay here with me.” She rubs my back, and I hold her tighter to me. She may not be my blood, but I love her all the same.

I need to tell her the rest. “Two days ago, he found me. I fought him off and jumped onto a bus before he could catch me.” Then I realize the kind of danger I have put her in. I pull away from her. “I didn’t think. You could be in danger,” I cry and start to stand.

“Let me call my brother. He is a cop,” she halts me and leaves me sitting here.

A minute or so later, she comes back in. I’ve bitten my lip to the point it’s almost bleeding. I don’t want to involve the police, but I honestly don’t know what to do next.

“My brother will be here soon,” she tells me, and I nod and stare at the wall.

“You want to take a shower?” I can hear the hesitation in her voice.

A shower sounds like bliss right now; to be able to get the alleyway off my skin would be a godsend. She leads me upstairs and into a bedroom with a joint bathroom. She gets me clothes from her closet, then searches through cabinets until she finds me towels, razors, and a hairbrush.

She smiles and turns around. Touching her arm, I stop her. “Thank you, Sydney.” I give her the tiniest smile I can muster.

“Go shower. I will be downstairs.” She pushes me gently toward the shower. Thanking her again, I close the bathroom door behind me.

Ethan

After getting Sydney’s call, I rush over to her house, fearing the worst. I have been on edge ever since she was attacked a few weeks ago. The sight of her battered face will forever haunt me.

Pulling up in front of her house, I hear another truck pull up behind me and see Kane stepping out of his black truck. Confused, I step out and walk over to him.

“What are you doing here?”

“To see your sister.” He smirks at me.

Jerking my head back, I glare at him. “My sister?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs and walks past me. I turn around and see my sister standing on the front porch. She looks shocked at seeing him here too.

Kane walks up and stands directly in front of her. I hear him say, “You have been crying.”

What the fuck? I double-time it up the steps and stand beside Kane. “What happened?” I lean down until I’m closer to eye level with her, my hand on her shoulder.

“My friend is in danger,” she answers me and sniffs.

“Your friend?” Kane asks and looks at me.

She doesn’t answer but says, “She will explain.”

She? What? I didn’t even know Sydney had any girls as friends; there was only one I know of, and she disappeared off the face of the earth three or four years ago when Sydney was in college.

Sydney opens her front door and motions for us to follow behind her. I close the door behind me and look up as I hear a creak of the floorboard.

My heart literally skips a beat when I see her. She has to be the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. She has long, blond hair that is close to her waist and ocean-blue eyes with a darker ring around the outside.

Then I notice how small she is; she can’t weigh any more than one hundred pounds. She is too tiny. She looks down at the floor, and I can see her whole entire body shaking. It’s taking everything in me not to run over and hide her from the world.

“Braelyn, this is my brother, Ethan.” Sydney points at me. Braelyn glances up at me before looking back down to the floor. I don’t take my eyes off of her.

Sydney walks over to her and leads her over to the couch. She doesn’t look up at me again, and it’s killing me, thinking she is scared of me. I sit down on the edge beside her, close, but keeping my distance.

“Braelyn, I know this is hard, but you have to tell Ethan what happened. He is a police officer,” Sydney tells her softly and wraps her arm around her shoulders.

Braelyn sighs loudly before she looks up at me. I inhale sharply and almost fall off the couch. She flinches and drops her eyes back to the floor.

Lifting my hand slowly, I place a finger under her chin, lifting her face so she’s looking at me. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Her eyes search my face before she relaxes.