Page 2 of Imperfect Skin

“Mitchell.” Callum’s use of my full name pulled me up short. Nobody ever used it except for Mum, and then she had to be pretty pissed at me or wanted me to pay attention.

“You need to lie still.” Callum’s hand was a warm weight on my chest. I could feel the sluggish pull of whatever painkillers they were feeding me trying to take hold again, but I had to know what happened to Mum.

“Damn it, Mouse! Sit the fuck still. The doc says they are taking you down to surgery soon.”

“Surgery! I don’t give a fuck about surgery.” My voice sounded distant, even to my own ears. “Where’s Mum? Why won’t you tell me?”

The machines they had stuck to me were making all sorts of erratic beeping sounds and I was certain a well-meaning nurse would be in to see what the fuss was soon. But before that happened, I needed answers. Cal leaned in closer. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. His normally astute grey eyes were dimmed. Concern for me was etched across his face.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s happened?” The words came out as a sob. Any shred of calm I owned had flown out the window when I woke up here.

“Mitch.”

“Tell me!” I roared with the last of my strength.

“She didn’t make it. She’s gone.” Callum spoke with a painful finality. He had to be lying, but why the fuck would he? Was he crying? Callum didn’t cry. He was the strongest of us all. Nothing, and I mean nothing, got to him.

“Why the fuck would you say that?” I accused, my unbandaged hand going to the leads that were stuck to my chest. Callum’s hand was there in seconds, stopping me in my tracks.

Before I could do anything, he was holding me like a fucking baby. The realisation of what he said finally hit me.

My mum was dead, and it was my fault.

Guilt and grief crashed over me in an unending wave. This had to be a bad fucking dream. I was going to wake up in a minute and Mum would be here, and everything would be alright.

“Mouse, stop that.” Callum spoke like he knew what I was thinking. His arm tightened around my uninjured shoulder, holding me close. “This wasn’t your fault.” He spoke with the resigned patience of a man who knew he wasn’t going to be listened to.

The curtain of the cubicle was pushed open and I saw my brother’s face. Simon looked gutted. He looked broken, and all I could think was that I’d done this to us.

“Mouse! Thank fuck.” With two short strides he was at my bedside, pushing Callum gently aside, trying to get his arms around me. “I thought I’d lost you too.”

I felt something inside me shatter then. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have taken the damn coastal road. I should have been more careful. I needed to shut down, draw away, rather than face the pain I’d caused my family.

One

MOUSE

I hurt myself today

To see if I still feel

I focus on my pain

The only thing that’s real

Hurt - Trent Reznor

Nine years later

“Mouse!”

I sighed, smiling at the bathroom mirror as Alice’s voice carried up the hallway.

“In the bathroom, Squirt.” I carefully flicked my eyeliner up, creating the soft winged look I was aiming for. In the piss-poor light these power saving bulbs gave, I wasn’t sure if I was achieving a sexy Amy Winehouse look or a Rocket Raccoon look. I’d been grousing at Callum for weeks that we needed better lighting in here. It wasn’t like I was going to pick up some hot dick—well, at least not at Rhys and Simon’s engagement party—but I’d made plans for later tonight, plans that involved a Dom, a whip, and hopefully, me blissed out on happy hormones for a few hours. Well, that was the plan, if I could sneak out of the party early.

“Oh, you look awesome, Mouse!” Alice poked her head around the door, grinning. She looked like a small, neon green and pink taffeta cloud in the party dress she wore.

“That the dress you and your gran were working on?” I stopped doing my makeup long enough for Alice to give me a twirl.

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