“I’m here if you want to talk.”
I stare at my room’s door after Dad leaves. I might need some sort of alcohol for my ears because I think the almighty Lewis Knight just offered to listen.
It’s already weird as fuck he didn’t tell me to get my shit together, but to go as far as being an actual parent?
Who knew that concept existed in his vocabulary?
Dad is the last one on my mind, though. After our decision – or rather, his – the only thing I keep craving is a look at her, or even a peek would do.
I can be fucking selfish and ask for a touch, but that would be torture in the long run and I’ve been tortured enough through the years.
Apparently not enough, fucker, because you’re still thinking about it.
Shut up, brain.
I stand in front of my balcony, in the middle of my last spying session. However, the Reeds’ house is dark and silent, which means they’re probably asleep.
My fucker friends left earlier and Ronan made sure to wave at me from down there, ensuring I saw him.
Wanker.
The bright side, she was smiling and appeared happy, considering the way her eyes brightened and her shoulders didn’t droop.
I meant what I said in the hospital, she’s strong and will get through this. She’ll stand tall and embrace her scars and blemishes and everything in between. Kim has an unyielding spirit and while it broke, it can be mended now that Calvin and Elsa know.
It might take time, but she’ll be fine.
I’m the one who won’t.
I’m the one who’ll stay up every night thinking about her, then curse myself for thinking about her.
It’ll be an endless, vicious cycle I’ll have neither the power nor the will to stop.
Maybe I should go confess or something. Or is my sin too big for that? I don’t want the priest to drown me in holy water or chase me with a bat.
There’s another simple solution that’s hiding in my drawer in the form of a bottle. Dad banished all the liquor from the house and told Ahmed to donate them. The joke’s on them. I always have a hidden bottle somewhere.
If I’m going to quit, I might as well go out with a hurrah. Being sober for days sucks. The itch is like an urge that consumes me from the inside out. It won’t leave me until that burn tickles my throat.
The door opens and I sigh. Of course, Dad would return to ruin my fun. I understand the sudden hit with parenthood, but come on, we need a break from each other.
I need a break from hating my father because he’s her father.
I need a break from thinking he ruined my life.
I need a break from him. Full stop.
“I’m not interested in talks, Dad. Leave me the fuck alone.”
I expect him to reprimand me for ‘language’ in his stern politician voice, but there’s no answer.
Maybe he got the memo this time.
Small arms wrap around my waist from behind. “I’m not leaving you alone anymore.”
What the…? Am I getting drunk without alcohol now?
Either that or I’m going crazy, because nothing explains the soft hands resting on my stomach or the voice that should only visit in my dreams.
And my hell once I’m dead.
Because I have no doubt I’m going straight there. Do I regret it? For her, yes. For me, not at all.
I kind of made peace with my demons after long years of struggle, and they’re against the holy water idea.
My demons spill out to invade my space and whisper those thoughts that, while sinful, feel so fucking right.
One last time.
One last touch.
One last push into madness.
What do you have to lose?
It could be the demons or my demented mind, but I remain still, soaking in her warmth that’s creeping into me and filling me with a weird sense of comfort.
It’s when she tightens her arms around my waist that I realise it’s neither because of the alcohol or a dream, like the other time.
Kim is here and she’s hugging me.
I grab her hand and attempt to yank it. While a part of me wants her to stay there forever, this will only fill her with regrets later.
A moment of weakness will rule her life and before she knows it, all her actions will be eating away at her soul like cancer.
That’s how I felt after the kiss and the oral sex. I felt so much guilt towards her, it drew a hole in my chest and I had to fill it with bottles and bottles of alcohol.
Spoiler alert, it never worked.
She doesn’t release me, her clutch turning hard and unyielding while her chest presses against my back.
Fuck me.
“Let me go, Kim.” My voice is thick, wrong.
She shakes her head against my T-shirt.
“Let me the fuck go,” I snap for her sake, not mine.
She has to stay the fuck away from me because I’m this close from ruining us both for life.
When she doesn’t comply, I grab her arms and shove her away. She releases me with a gasp, but she doesn’t leave.
We’re both breathing harshly as we stand across from one another. She, because she probably took the stairs running – like when she was excited as a kid. Me, because of all the black thoughts swirling in my mind. Thoughts about hugging her again, kissing her, and being a sinful fucker fit for hell and all its friends.
“Why are you here?” I speak in my cruel tone, the one I’ve always used to push her away.
This is how I pretend her presence doesn’t tilt my world and refuses to let it snap back to normal balance.
“Because of you.” She smiles, her eyes sparkling as if she’s reading one of her books.
“Didn’t you hear a word I said at the hospital? You’re my sister, Kim.”
The more I say that word, the harder I dig in that blade from seven years ago. It’s becoming rusty and it hurts like a fucking bitch whenever twisted.
She lifts her chin. “I’m not.”
“Just because you want it to be that way doesn’t mean it’s true. You’re not a kid anymore. Grow the fuck up.”
“Screw you, okay?”
That’ll be impossible. Or possible if she doesn’t get the fuck out of here, now.
“Didn’t know you had incest as a kink, Kim.” I grin.
“Apparently, you do. You always thought about it, didn’t you, Xan?”
My jaw tightens, but I remain silent.
“I’m not judging you.” She sighs. “I probably would’ve been the same.”
“Well, I’m judging you, so get the fuck out of here.”
“So you can leave and never return?” She stares up at me with those huge, gut-stabbing eyes.
Those eyes will be the reason for my free fall to hell. I see it, feel it, can almost fucking taste it.
“Yes,” I mutter.
“You know, even if we were siblings, I would rather have you close than not here at all.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you think I can stay here after all that’s happened?”
“I hope so.”
“What?”
“Listen to me first, okay? Dad told me everything.”
I pause. “What do you mean?”
“We’re not siblings, not biologically, at least.”
Then she goes on to tell me what Calvin said about his relationship with my mum and how Dad and Janine retaliated.
The entire time, I listen to her, but I’m not even sure if the words are reaching me right.
The fact that Calvin is my biological father.
The fact that Dad willingly chose to be my father.
The fact that Mum wasn’t a saint as I tried to convince myself.
But most of all, one fact remains with me through the whole retelling.
One fact revives my heart and allows it to beat.
After Kim finishes talking, she stares up at me with that spark in her eyes, the hope and excitement I thought I killed once upon a time, but they still find their way back to her life.
This time, I have no intention of murdering it. If anything, I’ll protect it, thrive on it.
“So?” she asks.
“So what?”
She grabs my arm. “You have nothing to say?”
I smile at her impatience. Some things never change. “Like what?”
“Xan!” she snaps.
My palm finds her cheek, and my thumb strokes the puffiness under her eye. This means she was crying before coming here.
Once again, I made her cry.
She leans into my touch like a kitten and sighs.
Kim and I are the same in so many ways. We’re both broken, flawed, and have unsatiated hunger.
A hunger so furious, it chips at our souls.
A hunger so strong, nothing but the other one can satiate.
“Does that mean you’re not my sister?” I ask the question she’s wanted to hear since she ran all the way here.
“Not at all. Not even close.”
“Thank fuck.” I tilt her head up and capture her lips with mine.
