Miss Congeniality (24 page)

“T
alk,” Brea told Alex later that night when they were sitting on the porch. After finagling, begging, wheeling, and dealing all afternoon, he was out. Lance had yet to return, and she didn’t want to think about what he was doing or how he was feeling. He hadn’t gotten his bags when he left, so she was holding on to the fact he wouldn’t leave without them.

Alex took a long pull of his beer. “Do you remember when we were kids and you used to always try to boss me around?”

“I can still boss you around.” She leaned back in her seat, propping her feet on the railing.

“Yeah, yeah. So you say. Before I talk, why don’t you tell me what happened to your guy?” He cut a glare at her.

“Who told you?”

“Does it matter? I’m trying to figure out why he’s not here when he clearly knows no one in Charleston, and you are here with me.” She hesitated, not wanting to make a bad first impression. He hadn’t even met the guy yet, and she did want them to get along.

“We got in a fight.”

“About…?” She should have known he wouldn’t let it go. Lance only thought she didn’t let issues go; he didn’t know she had nothing on her brother.

“You.”

“What about me?” he asked curiously.

She sighed, really not wanting to get into this. “He doesn’t think I should have bailed you out. He told me I’m just trying to relive the old days and I don’t know what you’re like, and I have neglected you too much over the past couple years to really understand what you’re like anymore.” Alex said nothing, just sipped his beer. She gripped the arms of her chair, worried about his reaction.

He started peeling the label on his beer bottle, looking up at her sheepishly. “He’s right.”

“No,” she argued.

“He is,” Alex insisted. “I told you before, the guy you know from before is gone. I had to, it’s called survival.”

“I hate you saying you needed that to survive. What the hell happened to you? When I left you all those years ago, you were doing okay. And when I came home you were a little distant, but nothing too bad to make me believe you would actually start using. I begged you to come with me and you never did. We wouldn’t be in this position if you would have just come.”

He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. We’ll never know for sure. But there were a lot of things going on you had no clue about.”

“Like what?” she challenged.

“Like I was never free to leave.”

“Why? Because you felt some sense of loyalty to that damn woman?” She scowled.

“I’m going to tell you a story, baby girl. Think back to when we were kids, you remember how we used to sneak out in the morning.”

Her eyes softened. “Of course. You were my hero.”

“Did you ever wonder why Mom never messed with us?”

“No, I figured it was just because they were still passed out when we left.”

“Remember those days when she was awake? There was a reason why she didn’t mess with us.”

“Yeah, cause she was high as hell.” He slammed his beer bottle down on the rail to get up to pace.

“Well, there was a reason she was high all the time.” Brea narrowed her eyes, unsure where he was going with this.

“What are you trying to say? Just spit it out already.”

“I gave her money to buy drugs!” he screamed at her. She reared back like he slapped her. “I gave her money to buy drugs,” he reiterated quietly, slumping down in the chair. Tears immediately filled Brea’s eyes.
There’s no fucking way,
she thought. How could her brother give her money for drugs?

“I….I…” she stuttered and swallowed, starting over. “I don’t understand. What do you mean you gave her drugs?”

He hung his head down. “I never gave her drugs. I gave her money, which she used to buy drugs.”

“That’s fucking semantics. Why?”

“You don’t understand what it was like living with her. It was pure Hell. She was high for as long as I can remember. I don’t have any sober memories of her. She would bring in the men to pay for her habit. It was like a fucking parade, a different man every night. I wasn’t much older than you were, but I knew I had to take care of you. I called you my baby. I was so in love with you.”

“I remember,” she cried, “but I don’t know why you would want her to stay that way.”

He drew a ragged breath before continuing. “When we got older, some of the men would make comments about how cute you were, how much they liked little girls…”

“No….” she shook her head. She had never been abused, had never known this was going on.

“Yes,” he insisted. “That’s why I started having you hide in your room all night, and not letting you get out. I figured out of sight, out of mind. And it worked, up to a point.”

“What happened?” she asked, though she didn’t want to know.

“There was one guy who liked little boys. I had to fight for my life that night, and I thought never again. Mom was no good, but I figured if I could at least get her to stop bringing home johns, I wouldn’t have to keep fighting them off.”

“That’s when you starting making extra money.”

He nodded, his face miserable. “I started doing odd jobs, and I gave the money I earned to her. I figured if she had money, she wouldn’t need the johns.”

“I remembered all the men, but I always wondered why they weren’t there every night if she needed drugs constantly. I just figured she got money some other way.”

“Her ten-year-old.” He shook his head, mouth set in a thin line. She hugged him, needing the comfort. She didn’t know how she felt about Alex giving their mother money to score her next fix, but he was only a kid, too. “You were right, you know?”

“About what?” She had stayed close, putting her head on his chest, realizing how much she missed her brother.

“I am responsible for her, but not in the way you think. I’m responsible for her getting as bad as she did.” She heard the tremor in his voice, and though she hated what he did, she knew nothing compared to his self-loathing. She grabbed his face in her hands, wiping the tears falling from his eyes.

“You’re not!” She shook her head furiously.

“I am,” he said, the tears continuing to fall. They were both crying, a blubbering mess on Derrick and Silvia’s porch.

“Don’t do this.” She hugged his neck, feeling hot tears fall in her hair. Alex never cried; in all the years she knew him, he was always her rock, her protector. Brea was certain there was no way she would ever be able to forgive her mother, not for breaking this man. They stayed as they were, comforting each other in a way they couldn’t before, and allowed their tears to free them. From what remained to be seen, but she felt better for them. He pulled back first, wiping his eyes with both hands. She hated the loss of contact but wiped her own eyes, as well.

“You don’t have to tell me the rest,” she told him, figuring he wouldn’t want to carry on with the emotional overload tonight.

“I guess I better finish,” he said sheepishly. She hated he was embarrassed, but she allowed him his feelings. He blew out a cleansing breath.

“So, why did you start drugs?” she asked when he didn’t start talking right away.

“Mom,” he said so matter-of-factly.

Brea slapped her hand on her thigh. “I knew that bitch had something to do with it.”

“Brea. This is my fault.”

“But why?”

He rubbed his forehead. “It’s stupid. Mom would still come by sometimes, always telling me it was my fault, and I was the reason she was like that.”

“Tell me you didn’t believe her.”

“No,” he said hesitantly.

“You did,” she accused.

“I couldn’t fucking help it,” he shouted. “Imagine a person comes up to you every day and says you’re ugly. You could be the most gorgeous person in the world but eventually, you’re going to believe it. She picked at me, like someone chips away the layers of a rock, and eventually I started believing it.”

“But drugs?”

“I know. I was at a party. The shop hadn’t been doing well and I was still in pain from the car accident I had right after Christmas. Someone offered me a pill, so I took it. I didn’t think it was the same thing. I was taking a prescription drug, but I ended up hooked.”

“How long did you take them?”

“For three months, but I swear within a week I knew I was in trouble. I was craving it, and I spent most of the day high.”

She rubbed his thigh, aware his confession must be taking its toll. “How did Derrick and Silvia find out?”

He held out his hand, showing her a long scar on his palm. “I had an accident at the job. I was high, of course, and I cut myself with one of the tools. My boss asked for them to do a drug test because it’s standard when they have to pay out for worker’s comp, but I tested positive.” Brea’s eyes widened, not quite believing everything he was saying. You couldn’t script this shit.

He laughed softly, picturing their reaction. “Derrick and Silvia flipped on me, asking me how long this had been going on and lecturing me on my bad behavior.” Brea grinned, having been on the receiving end of one of those lectures. “I got mad at them and I told them to get out, but you know them. One of them was constantly stopping by, checking on me, telling me I needed to go to rehab.”

“What happened with your job?”

“I lost it, of course. My boss was really upset about it, but how can you have a guy who’s high on painkillers working around sharp tools?”

“Was that when you decided to go to rehab?”

“No, I was able to live for about another month without problems, but I was running out of money fast. What stopped me was Mom.”

“Her again?”

“I brought her food one day like I normally do, and she told me she recognized another junkie. I denied it. I mean, I was functioning, so how could I be like her? She told me she knew I would always end up like her, and she was proud of me. I left her and immediately threw up outside, so sick to my stomach because she was right. So I called Derrick and told him I was done, and I wanted out.” Brea had pulled her legs up to wrap her arms around them during his explanation.

“And your dealer? I thought you were done.”

He kicked his legs out, crossed them at the ankles, and stared at the night sky. “I was, I promise you, I was. But he came to see me, you know how dealers are.” Actually, she didn’t because she had never done drugs, but she wasn’t going to point that out. It would be like rubbing salt on a wound. “When I told him to leave me alone, he started talking about you.”

“Me?” she asked surprised.

“Yeah, he told me about how he remembered you being gorgeous, and how you would end up like Mom, and maybe he should go visit you.” Misery showed on his face as he told her about that night. “I told him to shut up, and I tried to hold my temper, but I fucking lost it. I just started hitting him, and I didn’t stop until someone yanked me off him.” She studied her brother, this protective man who was so flawed. She couldn’t hate him for what he did, but she definitely wasn’t looking at him as the perfect man she always remembered.

She smiled softly, belying her words. “I’m sorry you felt you had to protect me.”

Blue eyes so like her own flashed angrily. “Don’t you dare apologize because I protected you. You’re my little sister, and I’ll always protect you. Whether it’s from a junkie drug dealer or our own mother, I am your protector.”

“And I’m my brother’s keeper. Today, and every day, I’ll always be your keeper. So I need you to fight for your life like you fought for my reputation a couple months ago.”

“I will.”

“Are you sure? Because you screamed for me to come and I did. I need to know the hit to my reputation wasn’t in vain.”

He cringed, thinking about what he put her through with the media. He had understood what would happen when he did it, but he wanted his sister with him. “Was it really bad?”

“Nah.” She waved him off. She held out her hand, ticking off the different points as she said them. “Let’s see. I was followed and harassed by the media, yelled at by my boss because of all the bad press, had to rush home to save your ass, and I am currently in the middle of a fight with my boyfriend, who coincidentally hasn’t returned although he swore he would.

“Some protector I’ve turned out to be.” She kicked him lightly with her foot.

“Don’t do it again.”

“I know.”

“I mean it, asshole, or I will kill you myself.” He held up his hands, smirking at the thought of his 5’6, one-hundred-five-pound sister trying to beat up on his 6’1, one-hundred-seventy-five pound ass.

“You’re still a feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

“My brother taught me how to fight, so don’t think I won’t kick your ass.”

He laughed. “Understood.”

“What does your lawyer believe?” she asked, turning back to the topic at hand.

“He believes they can knock it down to a misdemeanor if I agree to go to rehab. They aren’t trying to nail me with it, which is what they originally said, but they do want me to be punished for it. My lawyer is a shark in the courtroom, and I don’t think the prosecutor wants to go against him.”

“What about jail time?”

“He said he could maybe get me six months or less.”

“Seriously?” she asked, excited because he might be able serve minimal time.

“My lawyer’s good, what can I say? You hired the best.” She wanted to help him because he was her brother; but knowing everything she did now, she knew he didn’t deserve to be in prison for an extended period. He was protecting her, and she would feel an extreme level of guilt if he went to prison for her.

“So, when will you know?”

“Damn, you don’t let up. I’ll go see him tomorrow.”

“Good.” She figured the sooner he got this taken care of the better. “Can I ask you something else?” She was scared to ask him, but she didn’t want to leave without trying.

“Anything,” he said seriously.

“Will you consider coming back with me to LA?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I will consider it, and I could use a change of scenery, but I don’t know if I can leave…”

“Mom,” she completed, knowing where he was going before he finished.

He sighed deeply, looking older than his years. “I just don’t know if I can.”

“Think about this while you’re considering my request. How many times do you believe she thought about your well-being? When you were fighting off her johns, where was Mom? When she was taking your money when she should have been feeding her children, what was she doing with it? You believe you can’t leave because you feel responsible for her, more so because of what you did when you were a
child
, but she was the adult and should have protected her children. You will never be able to make a life if you stay here; you’ll just be existing.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, a gesture he used to do all the time when they were children, and got up to leave.