Page 19 of Breaking Storm

He hands me a bottled water. “Let’s talk, Teagan.”

With a slight raspiness to my voice, I say, “We are.”

The corners of Sean’s mouth droop lower. “As much as you think you’re alone, I understand how trying it is living here.”

“Because your friend is an asshole and has taken everything from me.”

Sean shifts to where he’s sitting sideways on the bench, facing me. “It’s his way of keeping you safe.”

“Bullshit! It’s his way, like it is for the whole male crime world, to control me.”

“Not everything is so black and white, Teagan.”

I sit the same way as him. “There’s that phrase again. Black and white. What are you getting at?”

His arm anchors at the top of the bench, and he supports his head with his hand. “I want you to have an open mind. You and Joey need to get to know each other.”

“Ha! Tell it to asshole. I haven’t heard so much as a peep out of him. We’re never in the same place, and I’m sleeping by the time he comes to bed, if he’s even sleeping in our bed. Which I wish he wouldn’t because I’m scared shitless he’ll want me one night, sexually.”

He stays quiet. Of course, he does. What can he say to facts? Sean nudges me, holds out his hand, and I pause before taking it.

While lost in our own thoughts, I consider Sean and his boyish smile trickling across his face. He’s boy-next-door handsome. Blond hair, blue eyes, perfect teeth, and a machine of a body. More muscle than Joey. Sean is bulk whereas Joey is leaner. Childhood is a blur. Leo claims we all played together as children, but it’s difficult to locate an image of Sean from back then. I mean, there are Joey memories, but memories of all of us aren’t coming to me. He must have really changed.

Sean tosses pieces of bread from his sandwich into the pond for the fish. “You’re both only twenty-two. It will take time.”

“Well, that I got.”

The prickle of tears strikes, and I can kick myself for such fragility. I turn away to wipe them and a warmth comes next to me. Sean’s body is against mine, and he puts his arm around my shoulders. I freeze, but he doesn’t flinch. After a little while, I relax into his compassion, cuddling into him more, and resting my head on his shoulder. For a good hour, we remain in this position, talking about childhood, telling stories, and laughing, until I realize how much I like Sean’s voice. The warmth of his body. It’s here that I admit to myself that we’re going to become good friends.

Chapter 9

THE LOSS OF MY JOB. No, the loss of my independence has me still whirling from misery and anger. If it wasn’t for Sean, I would have lost my mind already. He talks and keeps me busy, while the other one, Graffiti, is silent. He barely says a word. Joey’s insides must harbor secrets or are dead from fighting. A shadow swirling inside him, drifting to escape like Peter Pan’s shadow, battling between good and evil. I dislike him, but his quietness adds a pinch of curiosity. I’m a curious type of person, so his cryptic behavior interests me. Getting any information from Sean is futile.

From taking drives to going to the park, to lunches and a fest in little Italy, I’ve grown fond of Sean. He’s everything Graffiti isn’t, except my attraction leans toward the latter. Attraction, not desire. Sean is handsome, matching an impressive body. When I talk, his blue eyes focus on me, showing a genuine interest in what I have to say. Maybe it’s the environment I grew up in. Or darkness is within me because Graffiti in all his tats, black hair, and mint green eyes that ripple from dark to light like Fiji waters is what affects my traitorous body. I shake my head and shiver at the thought.

Sean has become a friend; one I hold dear since there’s little else in my life. It’s given me some confidence. He’s good natured and attentive. Yesterday, we went to the movies. The gentleman he is let me choose a rom-com. We shoveled buttered popcorn in our mouths, adding sweetness by eating Skittles. At one point, Sean choked on a kernel when laughing, and I pounded on his thick muscled back to dislodge it. Afterward, he pressed a kiss against the top of my head. It wasn’t a romantic gesture, but an appreciative one.Wasn’t it?

Today, we’re heading to the beach. My clothes arrived a day or two after my arrival here, so I don a pink bikini while packing a little bag. I detect Joey’s presence by the door, but I ignore him. It’s best to limit our interaction. I’d rather not poke the bear.

Unfortunately, the bear speaks. “Where are you going?”

“Hmm… I’m wearing a bathing suit. Packing a little bag. Did you figure it out yet?”

Two footfalls and he’s at my side. “Watch your mouth, Tea.”

My head turns in his direction, and I place a hand on my hip. “Or what, Joey? You gonna hit me? Rape me?”

His hands come up as if about to strangle me and then he drops one, smashing the other into the wall, splitting skin, and smearing blood on it. Sometimes I don’t understand my actions, especially now when I reach for his hand to look at the damage. He snatches it from me.

“Let me see.”

He walks over to the window, tries to shake the pain away, and grits his teeth. “I asked where you’re going. Why does everything have to be a production with you?”

I let out a laugh. “Talk about production. I’m not the one who punches walls.”

Joey’s arms straighten, he makes fists, and a vein pops out of his neck when he shouts, “Where are you going?”

It shakes me, and I take a step back. I’ve been used to his quietness, so the volume in his voice and his stance puts me on edge.

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