Credence

Of course not. I’m old enough when he says, because I’m too stupid to keep myself out of trouble.

And whether or not I’m ready for sex is one thing, but intimacy is another. We all want to be special to someone. Family isn’t the same thing. I’d like to meet someone eventually.

“Your logic is flawed, you know?” I tell him, staring at him through the mirror. “If a woman claims you, then she’ll also do for you what other women do. But if you all are claiming me, you’re not doing for me what other men would do.”

Noah spurts beer from his mouth, choking and dripping alcohol everywhere as he looks wide-eyed over at his father and coughs into his hand.

I bite back a smile.

Noah hacks, struggling for breath, and wipes the mess off his lap. Jake stares at me through the rearview mirror.

But he doesn’t reply.

And I’m not the first to look away this time.

Tiernan

“Ah!” a whimper rings though my ears, and I shoot up in bed, popping my eyes open.

I cough, sweat covering my brow.

The smell… I let out a sob as my eyes burn. My hair hangs in my face, blowing out with my heavy breaths, and my stomach aches as the knots tighten.

What the hell? I cough again, unable to catch my breath.

God. Only remnants of my dream remain, but I can still smell that stench. The pungent, soapy candles gagging me…

Nausea rolls through me as I press the back of my hand to my mouth, and something rises in my throat. Commotion echoes in the house, but pain wracks my body, and I can’t take it. Throwing off my covers, I stumble out of bed, falling to my hands and knees, and scramble toward the trashcan.

I grab the one by my desk and hover over it, heaving.

The odor clogs my nostrils and fills my throat. I don’t remember what the dream was about, but I couldn’t breathe. I still can’t. I gasp.

The bile rises up, and I lurch, coughing and gagging over the can, gripping both sides. Why do I still smell it? It’s all over me like it was all over every inch of furniture in my parents’ room, and I start crying, rubbing the chill off my arms as dirt weighs my skin.

I shake, my sobs breaking loose as the nausea subsides and sadness takes over. I feel like I’m in that house again. I hadn’t realized how I hadn’t felt that in days now.

The cold. The sterile silence and the serrated air stinging my nostrils. That house where the walls were too hard and there was nothing that wasn’t sharp.

I suck in deep breaths and tuck my hair behind my ear, the scent of the wood and the trees outside slowly overshadowing the memory of the candles.

Falling to my ass, I lean back against the wall, my arms propped up on my knees as I squeeze my eyes shut and tears wet my cheeks.

Ugh, that feeling.

I don’t want to feel it again. I shake my head. I don’t want to go back there ever again.

I’m here. I’m in Colorado, with them and the wind and the warm fire and the new smells.

The floor creaks above me, and I open my eyes, slowly raising them up to the dark ceiling.

Kaleb. His room is above mine. A piece of furniture shifts across the floor, another creak here and a stomp there, but then I hear a cry behind me and feel something hit the wall.

Noah’s next to me, and I rest the back of my hand against the wall by my head, feeling his headboard hitting on the other side again and again, the thuds speeding up.

I drop my hand, listening to their panting and moaning. Tears well again, but I let them fall without another sob.

I wish he was alone. He’d probably let me crawl into bed with him tonight, if I wanted. Like a big brother keeping the wolves at bay, because I had a scary dream.