Page 44 of Pray for Scars
His grip on my arm tightens but he drops his other hand. I see his lip tremble, see his throat bob as we stare at each other, somehow connected in this sick grief. This self-loathing.
My brother tried to kill himself.
My beautiful, broken brother took a blade to his wrist.
“When?” I ask him, my voice a whisper.
He opens his mouth, closes it, and I realize, for once in his life, he’s speechless. Did he not want me to see it? Did he not want me to know? Or is this just Jeremiah’s brand of manipulation at its finest?
I take a step back, out of his grasp.
He tugs his sleeve down.
“Come with me tonight, Sid. Let me show you something, just one thing and then I’ll—”
He doesn’t want to talk about it.
Well fuck it, neither do I.
I shake my head, cutting him off. “No.” I say it again, to convince myself: “No.I’m not...I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m not doing anything with you. I’m—”
He takes off his jacket. Slowly, as if he’s undressing for a lover. I hear Nicolas swear under his breath from across the room, and all the while, my brother keeps his eyes on me.
He drops his jacket. His dark green shirt hits at his forearms, but it’s enough. Enough for me to see what he did to himself very, very clearly. There are three lines, deep and angry and looking as if they might burst again at any minute. As if he should have had stitches, but I don’t see any sign of them.
I can’t look away.
“You see, Sid, I do give a fuck about you.”
I press my hand to my mouth, drop the knife, take another step back.
“I’ve always given a fuck about you. I would bleed for you. Kill for you.” He steps closer, reaches for my trembling hand, pulling it from my mouth, to his chest. “I would die for you, Sid.”
My eyes slowly find his, my breathing shallow. I feel his heart beating beneath my hand.
“What would he do for you, Sid? What would Lucifer Malikov do, foryou?” He pulls me close, hand on my low back. His lips press against my brow. “You deserve the world. I’d burn it down before I let anyone give you less.”
I still in his arms. He brings both of his own around me, and as I’ve done so many times before, I place both of my hands on his chest, trying to keep space between us. Trying not to give in to the twisted world of Jeremiah Rain and the way he’s blown up my life. Trying to keep some distance between the boy I wanted for my brother, and the boy I got, that isn’t really a boy at all. He’s a monster with a vast pit so dark where his soul should be that I don’t think it can ever be filled. It just might fucking swallow me whole.
“Get away from me,” I whisper, but I know I’m not pushing hard enough. I’m not trying hard enough. My blood is seeping into his shirt. He doesn’t seem to care.
He’s always wanted me to bleed for him.
“Let me help you, Sid.Please,”he whispers against my hair. His heart is thundering under my palms, as if he’s as conflicted as I am. As confused.
“What?” I ask. My head is against his shoulder, my eyes closed tight. I shouldn’t be this close, but part of me hopes maybe he’ll show me something to make this all better. Maybe we can be a team again, Order of Rain against the world. Because even though I hated that hotel and that life, some broken part of me liked the safety he gave me.
“Tonight, I want you to see something. Before you choose him, before you cut me out, I need you to see something.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat, and I let my hands slide down to my sides. Jeremiah squeezes me tighter.
“Okay.” The word sounds strange to my own ears. I should say no. I should leave and never come back, never see Nicolas or Jeremiah or anyone connected to that world, ever again. I shouldn’t want to believe the best of my brother, not after I’ve seen the worst. And the worst is all he has. All heis.
Jeremiah seems to deflate beneath me, but he pulls me even closer, his chin resting on my head.
“Tonight,” I whisper, eyes still closed tight. “And that’s it.”
He stiffens against me, but then I feel his chin move as he nods.
