The Imperfections

Bri straightens at the pointed way I fling everyone at her. I didn’t mean to get so worked up, so I take a step back and try to calm down.

“I’m only looking out for you, Alyssa.”

“I know. I appreciate that, I do, it’s just not easy to hear someone Brant is so protective of lobbying against him, and I feel like that’s what you’re doing.”

“Trust me, I’m not. I don’t want to hurt my brother, but I don’t want him to hurt you, either—not just for your sake, but for his. What happened with Nicole changed him…darkened him. That whole experience tarnished his soul and he never recovered. I don’t know what would happen to him if he did it again.”

Despite my defense, hearing “if he did it again” and knowing she’s referring to if Brant murdered me sends a trickle of discomfort dancing down my spine.

He almost did. That’s how we met. I don’t care how it looks that I’m with him anyway, but I can’t ignore the reality that the man I’ve chosen to do life with… well, he might kinda sorta be a murderer.

I probably should rip away the veil of mystery around it and find out what happened once and for all. Once I have the full story, I can shroud it again and move forward anyway, but at least I’ll know.

Bri is willing to share, and that’s so nice of her. I need to retract my claws, stop worrying about protecting Brant, and for just a minute, take advantage of this opportunity to get details Brant is reluctant to give me. It won’t change anything for me, but maybe it will help me better understand him.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I tell her, lowering my gaze for a moment before bringing it back to her solemn face. “I know you’re only trying to help me. If you’re still willing to tell me the story, I would like to hear about what happened with Nicole.”

Bri looks at me for a long moment, then turns her gaze toward the back door. I guess she’s looking to make sure Brant’s not coming in after me. When she sees he isn’t, she gestures for me to take a seat at one of the chairs lined up along one side of the island. Bri remains on the other side so she can keep an eye on the door while we talk.

“When we were just a year or so younger than you are, Brant and I were pretty much inseparable. We had jobs at the same place, a lot of the same classes in school. We even dated people who were in each other’s orbit. I was dating his best friend, Brandon, and he was dating this girl I was sort of friends with, Nicole. Since we were all friends, we hung out together a lot.”

I can’t imagine Brant hanging out with anybody a lot. I’m not even sure I can envision Brant having close friends.

“One night, we were hanging out like we always did, drinking a little too much and just being stupid kids. Brant decided we should hike through the woods to the docks by the lake we lived near and take one of the boats for a ride.”

“A boat you owned?”

Bri shakes her head no. “One of our neighbors had a boat she never used. It had been her husband’s, but he died, and Brant had done some work for her around the house before. To thank him, she had let him take it out fishing one day, so he knew where she kept the keys.”

“So, he kinda stole a boat.”

Her lips curve up faintly. “Borrowed it, according to him.”

I crack a smile and cast a look over my shoulder. It’s too dark to see much outside, so I can’t see Brant, but hearing a little bit about what he was like at my age makes me wish I could’ve known him back then. It sounds like I would’ve liked him then, too.

Looking back at his sister, I ask, “Do you have any pictures of him when he was that age?”

“I do. You wanna see them?”

I nod fervently, and Bri goes into the other room for a couple minutes. When she comes back, she has an old leather photo album. She returns to her post on the side of the island where she can see outside, but she puts the album down on the counter for me.

There’s dust on the red leather cover and spine, telling me no one has looked at these in a long time. I run my hand over it, swiping some of the dust away, then I open the front cover.

On the first page is a picture of a little boy in jeans and a red flannel, standing next to a man with some of Brant’s features and even darker hair. They’re both holding fishing poles and standing in front of a lake or a river with a forest in the background.