Not Meant To Be Broken (2 page)

How much had he told him?

Brian unlocked the door and they entered the apartment. Dad turned his head, waiting in the doorway, and gave me an encouraging look before disappearing inside. Hesitantly, I walked into my new home. I stood in a spacious living room with two narrow but high windows. There was a huge flat-screen TV on one wall, surrounded by hundreds of DVDs and Playstation games. Bang & Olufsen loud speakers were attached to every corner of the room. There were two round beige love seats and a long black sofa facing the TV. A sleek glass table was positioned in front of the sofa. There was even a liquor cabinet with more bottles of whiskey, scotch, tequila and all other kinds of alcohol than I’d ever seen. The expensive furniture and the new wooden floor weren’t something I’d expected. How was Brian able to afford such a luxurious home? The walls were brick but painted in the same warm beige as the loveseats. Through the open door to my left I could see the kitchen; a corridor branched off the living room and led to more rooms.

“Do you like it?” Zach asked as he set my suitcase down beside the sofa.

Pumpkin wriggled in my arms. I finally shut the apartment door before I put him down. He strode around the room as if he owned the place, rubbing his chin against the edge of every piece of furniture in his reach.

I gave Zach and Brian an apologizing look but they seemed more amused than angry about Pumpkin getting fur all over their sofa.

“It's really nice,” I said.

Zach grinned and gave Brian an I-told-you-so-look.

“Do you want to see your room?” my brother asked, smiling hopefully.

“That would be great.” I followed him into the long corridor. At the end of it was a window that filled the place with daylight. Five doors lined the walls.

“This door leads to my room and that's Zach's room. In between is our shared bathroom,” Brian explained, pointing at the three doors on my left side. I tried not to show my worry at the thought of sharing a bathroom with them.

“This is your room.” He pointed at the door across the corridor from his room.

Brian pushed open the door and took a few steps back to give me enough space to enter the room without touching him. A smile spread on my face as I stepped into the room. A huge window flooded everything with light and a king-sized bed was pressed against the wall below it. A wide wardrobe took up most of the left side. There was a desk beside the bed and a sofa on the remaining wall. The walls were beige and the bed-linen was purple. Brian must have bought it for me. Something warm spread in my body at the thought. I walked toward the window and chanced a look at the park below. “It's beautiful,” I said, tilting my head slightly to give Brian a grateful smile.

He shifted uncomfortably, still not moving from his spot in the doorway, my suitcases positioned next to his legs. Was he worried to scare me if he entered the room? “Can you put the suitcases on my bed?”

Brian hesitated but then he reached down and dragged my suitcases toward the bed before positioning them on top. We stood so close to each other that he could have touched me if he'd reached out. I lifted my head and met his eyes. Eyes so full of worry. I drew in a shaky breath and reached out, touching his upper arm for only a second. “Thank you,” I said before pulling my arm back. From the corner of my eye I saw Zach moving away from the doorway and out of view to give us privacy.

Brian’s eyes widened in surprise and his face lit up with joy, more joy than such a simple touch should cause in anybody. It was my fault. I averted my gaze and stared out of the window.

“Amber, Brian? I need to get back to Peterborough,” Dad shouted.

I followed Brian back to the living room where Dad was waiting for us. Zach was nowhere to be seen. He probably thought we needed a family moment. If only he knew that we hadn't had a true family moment for three years. Now everything was just complicated and awkward.
My fault
, a small voice in my head taunted me.

Dad took a step toward me, his arms lifting ever so slightly as if he was going to hug me before they dropped back to his sides. “Take good care of her, Brian,” Dad said in a strained voice.

I swallowed.

“Don't worry, Dad.” Brian pulled him into a tight embrace. I moved closer to them and accompanied Dad to the entrance door.

“I’ll give you a moment to say goodbye,” Brian said, then he left in the direction of the kitchen. Pumpkin perched on the backrest of the loveseat, keen eye watching me.

“I will be alright, Dad,” I told him, and like moments before with Brian, I reached out and touched Dad's arm ever so lightly. Again a smile and so much joy.

It was killing me to know that I could bring them so much joy with such a simple gesture. With a last glance back at me, Dad disappeared in the elevator at the end of the hallway. I closed the door and turned around. I took a moment to let it sink in that I was really doing this, starting a new life, living in an apartment with Brian and his friend. Voices drifted over to me from the kitchen.

For a moment I considered joining them but it would have been too much, too soon. I picked up Pumpkin, made my way back to my room and closed the door behind me, locking it.

I imagined Brian's reaction to my caution and grimaced, but I felt safer that way. I plopped down on my bed as I watched Pumpkin discovering his surroundings. This was my new life.

Zachary

After saying goodbye to Brian's dad, I disappeared into the kitchen, not wanting to invade their time of goodbye. I grabbed a coke from the fridge and sank down on a chair at the table. I brought the bottle to my lips and took a long gulp. My mind drifted back to the last half hour, the fear and worry on Amber's face as she stood in the elevator with us. She’d looked like a trapped animal. I'd tried to set her at ease with some conversation and I could have sworn that it had worked. Brian wasn't kidding when he’d described her condition. Maybe some normalcy would do her good. Brian and his dad probably hadn’t treated her like a normal person since that incident. Maybe it would help her to be treated like a woman and not a helpless, fragile porcelain doll.

The door creaked and I looked up to see Brian sitting down on the chair across from me, his expression strained. He hung his head and rubbed his temples, his mouth set in a thin line. I nudged his forehead with the cold bottle and grinned at him encouragingly. He just frowned at me. “Don't look so worried, Brian. Everything went well so far.”

Brian shook his head. “Haven't you seen what happened in the elevator? She didn’t want to step inside because of us.”

I put down the bottle and let out a sigh. “She'll get used to it, Brian. This is all new for her.”

Brian sighed. “I hope you're right, Zach.”

I punched him lightly against the shoulder, grinning. “I'm always right, dude.”

Brian snorted, his expression brightening. “You wish.”

I smiled to myself, lifting the bottle to my lips for another gulp. And I truly hoped that I was right. For Brian's and Amber's sake.

Amber

Laughter.

There is their laughter.

And sobs. My sobs.

And moans. Their moans. And grunts. Their grunts.

They ring in my head.

And the smells.

Sweat. The stench of their sweat. Disgusting.

And blood. So much blood. Acid, sweet in my nose and sticky on my skin. Sickening.

Stale cigarette smoke and beer. Their clothes smell of it. And their bodies. Revolting.

And then another smell. Everywhere. Something I've never smelt before. Indescribable. Disgusting. Revolting. Burnt into my mind. This smell. How it sticks to my skin just like the blood but so much worse.

And their faces. Taunting. Leering. Lusting.

Frightening. Menacing. Pitiless.

The last faces I'll ever see. Die. I will die. They tell me so.

And I want to. Plead them even. Plead them to kill me, to end this.

Death is better. Liberating.

So much pain. Unbearable.

Agony. Hot, burning, tearing, ripping. Pure agony.

And the feel of them. On my skin. Their hands. Rough and cruel.

Their bodies. On top of me. Crushing. Unrelenting.

And the pain. So much pain. Too much.

A scream tears itself from the depth of my body and then I can't stop.

I scream and scream. But all I hear is their laughter, their taunts, their grunts...

Blinding light penetrated my eyelids and tore me from the confines of my nightmare. Only it wasn’t just a simple nightmare, a simple phantasm of my mind. No, those were my memories. Burnt into my mind.

Forever.

Would it ever stop? Would they ever leave me alone? Would this day ever stop haunting my dreams? Would there ever be a night without nightmares; a night that didn’t let me relive the horrors of that day?

No.

The answer was immediate, and as true as it was frightening. Not in all those years had they gone away, and they never would.

Never.

I opened my eyes and blinked a few times to clear my vision until my eyes found the reason for the end of my nightmare. Brian stood in the doorway, his hand on the light switch and his horrified eyes on me. Behind him towered Zach, his horror matching that of my brother. I must have woken them with my screaming.

My throat felt sore and my body was slick with sweat.
Not their sweat,
I reminded myself and shuddered as the memorized stench filled my nose. Pumpkin was curled up at the end of my bed. He had gotten used to my nightmares and didn’t hide under the bed anymore.

“Amber?” Brian whispered and took a hesitant step toward me. He wanted to console me, maybe even hug me. It was written all over his face.

I stared down at the blankets covering my body. Shame rushed through me. “I'm sorry I woke you.”

“Don't worry,” Zach said quickly.

“You were talking in your sleep and then you started screaming,” Brian said in a very quiet voice.

I talked in my sleep?

My stomach twisted. God, what had I said? The thought that I might have revealed more about what happened made me sick. I lifted my gaze. “I...I talked?”

Brian grimaced before his expression turned apologetic. “Not much.”

Not much? I could barely breathe. I hated to lose control and that was exactly what happened whenever I fell asleep. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “What...what did I say?” I stared at Brian pleadingly. He hesitated and chanced a look at Zachary who was still standing behind him.

“You...you didn’t say much.” Brian turned his back to me. This was too much for him. He wasn’t used to dealing with this, with
me
.

“Please, I need to know,” I whisper.

Brian's shoulders started shaking. Was he crying? I clutched the blankets, needing something to hold on to. Zach stared at my brother for several moments before his eyes met mine. There was sadness in them, but no pity, and I was grateful for that. “You mumble, so I couldn't make out everything. But you said. 'Stop, please stop. Please don't...” He stopped and took a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring. He looks as if it cost him all his willpower to say the next words. “Please, it hurts.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Zachary,” I choked out. I felt sick; it was only a matter of minutes before I'd throw up.

“Night, Amber,” Brian said in a strained whisper. He closed my door and I was alone.

I sat on my bed until I was certain that Zach and Brian had returned to their rooms and I wouldn't meet them in the corridor. My legs shook as I stood and it took all my strength to grab a bathrobe and walk out of my room. It was dark in the corridor. Light spilled out from beneath the doors to the other two bedrooms.

The darkness threatened to swallow me. I tiptoed toward the bathroom and closed the door behind me as soon as I'd entered. I switched the light on, stumbled toward the toilette bowl and threw up. I gripped the seat tightly as dizziness flooded my mind. I sunk to my knees and leaned my head against the edge of the bathtub. My eyes closed on their own accord while I drew in quick shallow breaths through my nose. I felt so drained, and weak, and old, and lifeless.

Zachary

The bowl with cereal in front of me on the table sat untouched. I wasn’t hungry. Probably for the first time in my life the mere sight of food was making me sick.

Last night. Those screams and the look in Amber's eyes. I pushed the bowl away, not caring that milk spilled over.

Fuck,
I couldn’t forget those terrified eyes.

I didn’t sleep more than two hours after that. And my sleep was far from sound. I was haunted by nightmares, filled with her screams, not that my dreams were even close to being as horrible as hers.

It was nearly ten. Brian hadn't even left his room yet, though he was an early riser. I'd heard movement in his room but he didn’t come out. Maybe he was hiding. Maybe he was afraid to face his sister after last night. I'd kick his ass if that was the case.

I ran a hand through my hair. This was probably the first time Brian missed a day in law school. My attendance record was far less perfect.

The sound of soft footsteps in the corridor caught my attention; they didn't belong to Brian. I didn't move from my spot on the chair. It was too late to leave anyway. I wouldn't manage to slip out of the kitchen without meeting Amber.

Don't be in a room alone with her.

Brian's words flitted through my mind. I tried to act casual as I heard the door open. She didn’t have to enter if she was uncomfortable. I raised my head and caught her staring at me. She bit her lip and her forehead puckered in contemplation. She was wearing a similar outfit like yesterday. Jeans and a hoodie. Didn’t she sweat in those clothes? It was fucking warm in the apartment.

“Morning, Zach,” she mumbled eventually, a blush spreading on her pale cheeks. I could see how conflicted she was. Her body seemed frozen on the spot in the doorway.

I smiled, hoping to set her at ease. “Morning, Amber.”

An awkward silence hovered between us and I contemplated storming past her out of the kitchen, but then a low purr sounded through the room. Amber looked down to her feet, and so did I. Her black cat rubbed its small body against her calves before it waltzed into the kitchen as if it owned the place.

Without hesitation the cat jumped onto the table and began to lick up the spilled milk, watching me all the while dubiously. Its amber eye was fixed on me, and its body coiled tight as if it was prepared to run in case I tried to catch it.

“Pumpkin! Go down!” Amber's indignant exclamation didn’t impress the cat. It simply lifted its head for a moment before it continued lapping up the milk. It wasn’t a very pretty cat with its missing eye and the crooked tail but it had character.

Amber took a hesitant step forward, watching me cautiously as if she expected me to attack her any second. I knew I looked intimidating because of my height and muscles, and I worked hard to keep it that way, but I wasn’t violent. I'd never even think about hitting a woman, much less doing what Amber probably feared the most.

Then something changed on her face. Resolve took over. She took another step. When I didn't move, she walked toward the table and grabbed her cat. She put it down and gave it an affectionate pat on the head.

“Sorry,” she said with an even deeper blush. The table was between us, and her face made it clear that she was glad about it.

“Don't worry,” I assured her with a grin. “But don’t let Brian see it. He’s a neat freak. Without him the apartment would be slob central.”

“I know. His room was always much cleaner than mine when he still lived at home.” Her lips curled up into an adorable smile. I couldn’t quite explain why the sight made me so happy. “Are you hungry?” I asked, ignoring my strange feelings.

She shrugged but her gaze moved to the fruit bowl that was behind me on the counter. I leaned back on my chair and reached for the bowl before I put it on the table between us and gave her a wink. She blushed and averted her eyes with a mumbled 'thanks'. She grabbed an apple and bit into it. I
really
wished she would sit down.

“Have you decided yet how you're going to spend your days?” My attempt at conversation startled her slightly and she stopped the apple an inch from her lips. Fuck, her lips were pink and perfect.
Wrong
thought.

“I’m not sure. Since it’s too late to start college and it wouldn't be a good idea with all the people anyway,” she said in an apologetic tone. “I guess I’ll just try to get used to everything and then maybe I’ll apply for the spring semester.”

“I get it. You should take all the time you need. There’s really no reason to rush into things. Hell, most days I wish I hadn’t started college right after high school and instead traveled the world for a year or two.”

“You’re in law school like Brian now, right?”

“Yeah, it was either that or business school.”

“You make it sound as if you didn’t have a choice.”

“My father wants me to take over the family business in a few years, so he thought law or business would be the best preparation.” Shit, I sounded like a wimp, having my father tell me what to do. But it was the truth even though it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

She frowned. “But you don’t want to?”

I gave a one-shoulder-shrug. “It’s good money. And maybe if I’m lucky and don’t turn into a workaholic like my father, I’ll even have time to do the things I love once or twice a month.” Whoa, way to sound like an idiot, Zach. “Sorry.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You don’t need to apologize.” She bit her. “There is a support group twice a week for women who...for women like me...I think I'm going to give it a try.”

I stared at her. “Have you never been in a support group before?”

“No. There wasn't one in my hometown. And I didn’t really –”

My mobile vibrated in the back pocket of my jeans and I rose to yank it out. I shouldn't have moved so quickly.

Amber's eyes widened and she stumbled backward, her back bumping against the counter. I froze, my hand half way to my pocket and my eyes fixed on the girl in front of me. “My phone,” I said, pulled it out slowly and turned it off. I wasn’t in the mood to talk with whoever was calling. “I didn't mean to frighten you.”

A deep blush spread across Amber's cheeks. Her gaze dropped and she stared at the apple that had fallen to the ground. Slowly she bent down and picked it up before she chucked it into the trashcan. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered and lifted her gaze to watch me with huge, brown eyes.

“There's nothing to be sorry about.”

She nodded. Again it was Pumpkin who saved the situation. He began purring loudly and rolled around on the ground in front of Amber's feet.

“Where did you get him?” I asked curiously. Pumpkin didn’t look like a cat that a pet shop would sell. Amber looked at me in surprise but her face turned solemn almost instantly. “A year after...“ She stopped herself. “Two years ago Dad and I went to a pet shelter because he thought I needed company. There were dozens of cats and they were all trying to gain my attention, purring, and nestling against my legs, except for one. Pumpkin was sitting in the far corner of the room, watching me with his one eye, not moving at all. He didn’t try to gain my attention and I realized that it was because he knew that nobody would want him the way he was. With a missing eye and a crooked tail. He'd given up. Nobody would want a broken creature like him...“

She hesitated, her expression sad and hopeless. “That's why I decided to give him a home, to show him that there was somebody willing to take a broken creature, that there was someone who would love him.”

Was Amber still referring to Pumpkin or was she talking about herself? The idea that she thought of herself as broken sent a jolt of fury through me. Fury at the men who hurt her. I wished those men were standing right in front of me so I could hurt them, hurt them like they hurt Amber.

For once I truly wanted to use what Martial Arts had taught me. But somehow I was pretty sure that no matter what I did to those bastards it wouldn't be nearly as bad as what they'd done to Amber.

“What happened to him?” I asked. ‘
What happened to you?’
was the question I truly wanted to have answered.

Amber didn’t look at me when she replied, “The people in the pet shelter didn’t know for sure but they assumed that he'd been tortured by boys because he is so afraid of men.”

Another thing that she seemed to have in common with her pet. Fuck, I wanted to kill those sick fucks who’d attacked her.

Eventually she averted her gaze from Pumpkin who was still stretched out on the ground contently, and directed her uncertain gaze at me. A phone rang and she jumped. “That’s mine.” She hurried out of the kitchen.

The cat watched me with its one eye, as if it was trying to figure me out. Amber said Pumpkin was scared of men, but so far the cat hadn't run away. I took that as a good sign. Slowly, careful not to startle the cat, I knelt down to make myself smaller. I reached out. Pumpkin sniffed my hand, and then he started to rub his head against my palm.

“Good boy,” I said. Amber’s feet appeared in my vision as she stepped into the kitchen. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her gaze settled on my palm patting Pumpkin's head. Slowly, she walked a bit closer, but still out of my reach. She frowned. “Pumpkin, he's afraid of men,” she murmured. “He's never let anyone touch him except for me.”

I shrug, smiling genuinely. “Maybe I'm different. Not all men are alike.”

She considered me, and then she nodded once, accepting my words. She sank down on one of the chairs, watching me. I knew it wasn’t much but it was a start.

Amber

I sat on the sofa in my room, trying to read a book but my mind kept wandering to the events of the morning. Pumpkin had let Zach touch him. Why did he suddenly start trusting men, especially a man of Zach's size? He was built like a linebacker. Dad would be proud of me for that comparison. It had taken Pumpkin several months to let Dad touch him. Maybe my cat had noticed that my dad didn’t know how to act around him.

The sound of the bell startled me and I jumped up. Pumpkin hissed, leaped off the sofa and hid under my bed. I tiptoed toward my door and stiffened when I heard several male voices in the apartment. With shaking hands I locked my door and leaned against it to eavesdrop.

There were three male voices that I'd never heard before and then there were Zach and Brian. Unease swirled in my stomach. I tried to keep my breathing even as I listened to their conversation.

“There's a new club,” a man with a deep voice said. “Are you in?”

“Sure, Bill,” came Zach's immediate reply.

“Come on, Brian.” Another male voice urged. I heard the shuffling of feet, closer to my room, and checked my lock again.

“I'm not in the mood,” Brian said in a tight voice. I bet he was worried about leaving me alone.

“You sound like an old housewife,” said the man.

“Stop it, Jason,” Zach growled and I cringed. He’d never sounded so…threatening, not when I was around. It was silent for a moment. Then they began talking again but too low for my ears to hear. I guessed they were discussing
me
.

I rested my forehead against the door, listening how the male voices died down as they left the apartment. Pumpkin pressed against my leg, purring loudly. He blinked up at me with his amber eye and mewed. “It’s okay.”

Guitar music floated over to me. It was the saddest melody I'd ever heard. Sad but beautiful. Brian, he was playing the guitar. It had been years since I’d heard him play. Cautiously I unlocked the door and opened it, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

Pumpkin dashed past my leg and through the door, heading straight for the living room. I followed him on my tiptoes and peered around the corner. Pumpkin strode toward the sofa where Brian was sitting and playing his guitar. I clamped a hand over my mouth when my cat jumped onto the sofa inches from Brian. He let out a startled gasp and jerked back, almost dropping his guitar. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. After a moment he straightened and continued his play, never taking his eyes off Pumpkin. Brian wasn’t a cat person.

I closed my eyes for an instant as I listened to the sad melody. One song ended and another began, even more haunting than the one before that. Slowly, I opened my eyes and crept closer to the sofa, worried about interrupting my brother. Brian turned his head and apprehension flashed on his face. His fingers stilled on the strings and the music died down.

“Please, don't stop,” I whispered, moving a bit closer and plopping down on the loveseat on Brian’s right. “I missed your playing.” Why was it so difficult to interact with Brian? I could still remember the days when we bantered like siblings should.

Surprise flickered in his eyes and then a smile brightened his expression. He bent over his guitar and began to play a happier melody. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the backrest of the loveseat. When I was little, Brian often played for me and it had always calmed me when I was upset. But after the incident nothing could calm me, and Brian hadn't played in front of me ever since. I’d thought he'd given up on it completely. I was glad he hadn't.