Page 12 of Fight Or Flight

Eric

“Rise and shine dick for brains,” my brother singsongs. In case his annoying voice wasn’t enough to wake me, he kicks my shin for good measure. It’s mornings like this I wish I was an only child. Actually, I take that back. I like my other siblings, Anthony and Bella, just fine. It’s this asshole I wish they would have put up for adoption.

I pull the pillow out from behind my head and send it spiraling through the air. To my satisfaction, it smacks him in the face just as I open my eyes.

“Get the fuck out of my room,” I growl, tossing the blankets off my body. Sitting up, I swipe a hand over my face and rub the sleep from my eyes.

“No can do,” he says. “Family meeting.”

I peer at him, spotting the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. It should be noted that Montgomery family meetings are a rare occurrence since Mom and Dad decided to close up shop on the baby making business. I think the last time we had one was when dad came home with our pet cockatoo, Flo Rida, and that was two years ago. Dad said it was a gift for Bella, but she can’t stand the dancing bird. Mainly because it only bobs its head to gangster rap and not Taylor Swift.

“Good news, though,” Robert continues to taunt, straightening his glasses. “You didn’t kill Joss. Bad news, the uncles are here with a box truck. I think they’re shipping you out to boarding school for stealing Uncle Gangster’s car. If that’s the case, I call dibs on your room.”

At the mention of Joss, I wake the fuck up. When that woman fell to the floor, I swear my heart stopped and then I saw Brooklyn crying and the fucking world stopped too. As sick as she appeared to be, I was sure it was all my fault, that the car accident caused her to collapse. In my head, I had her bleeding internally and in desperate need of a craniotomy. I would have fallen to my knees and performed CPR if I knew how to…anything not to kill Brooklyn’s mother. Imagine being the person responsible for both her parents dying. It’s bad enough I can’t look at her without wanting to rip my heart out of my chest.

“What happened with Joss?” I ask, ignoring the rest of the nonsense he mentioned.

Our dad had gone to the hospital in the ambulance with them and after my mom got Bella off the school bus, she dropped our sister off at grandma’s and met them there. I stayed up all night waiting for them to come home, but when the sun rose, I called it quits. No news was good news, right?

Robert shrugs his shoulders.

“They got home a little while ago but all they said was that Joss was stable and then they ordered me to get your ass out of bed. Brooklyn wasn’t crying, so I’m taking that as a good sign.”

My eyes widen at that and I pull myself out of bed.

“Brooklyn is here?”

Pulling a tape measure out of his pocket, he ignores my question and measures the wall behind my dresser. I narrow my eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Seeing if I can fit a sixty-inch television on this wall.”

Crossing the room, I smack the tape measure out of his hand and grab the back of his t-shirt. In one fluid motion, I turn him around to face me.

“Cut the shit, Rob,” I growl. “I asked you a question.”

“I answered you,” he volleys, a smug expression on his dopey face.

Gritting my teeth, I release his shirt and tamper down the urge to punch him in the nose.

“The first question,” I grind out.

“Oh,” he mutters, raising an eyebrow. “What was it again?”

Before I can repeat the question, a knock sounds on my open door, and Rob’s eyes light up like a fucking Christmas tree. I slowly turn around to see what’s got his voltage turned all the way up and my eyes connect with Brooklyn’s. The weight that has been sitting heavy against my chest since her mom fell, eases at the sight of her, and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s weird and I’m sure I’ll overanalyze it later, but for now, I just want to stare at her. I want to erase the image of her crying from my mind and replace it with this one—puffy eyes, dark circles, and all.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever is going on in here,” she says, pointing a finger between me and Rob. “Your mom said I could take a shower, but I can’t find the towels.”

“I’d be happy to point you in that direction, beautiful girl who isn’t my sister,” Robert says from behind me. He goes to step around me, but I snap out of my trance and grab his elbow. “Down, boy,” I hiss.

He turns his head, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, and fixes me with a mischievous look.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffs, grinning like an evil fucking clown. He pulls his elbow free and faces Brooklyn. “Let me show you where the towels are,” he says.

The hand that grabbed him closes into a fist as I watch him make his way toward her. Brooklyn smiles at him, then her eyes shoot to me and before I can think about why I want to punch my brother in the face, I follow them out of my bedroom. My feet come to a halt halfway down the hall and I lean against the wall, watching as Rob leads her to the linen closet and grabs a couple of towels for her. She thanks him in that soft voice of hers and he points her in the direction of the bathroom. It’s an innocent exchange, but I still feel a pang of envy in my gut.

When she closes the door to the bathroom, Rob turns to me with a goofy grin on his smug face.

---