21. Linc

21

LINC

I stare out at the lake as I stand out on the deck that goes right up to the water. It’s a windy day, and I watch the branches of the trees bend and sway. The water ripples, and I feel a slight chill as I take my shirt off and lay it on one of the chairs.

I think P is still asleep. I know my mom and Lola being here yesterday was a lot for her.

It was a lot for me.

I can’t look at either one of them without seeing my brother’s face.

I kick my jeans off and hop into the shallow water, wading in deeper until it reaches my waist.

It’s fucking cold, but I’m used to it.

I swim further into the lake where I can no longer touch the muddy bottom and float on my back, looking up at the sun that just rose in the sky, wondering if it would be possible to sink if I just gave up.

My existence seems futile as I float through life on autopilot.

I swim a little closer to land, and when I look at the house, I see P standing on the deck in her usual tee with nothing covering her legs, her long brown hair down and wild in the wind as she stares at me.

I get to where I can touch the bottom and wade closer to her. She’s in a daze as she stares at me in the water.

“What are you doing out here?”

I jump up onto the dock and grab my towel, drying my arms and back. “What are you doing conscious this early?”

She looks even more tense than normal as she sits in one of the wicker chairs my mother picked out before I moved in. “I couldn’t sleep.”

That’s code for she had a nightmare, woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. But sure, we can go with her explanation. “Right.”

I dry my stomach and then my hair and take a seat in one of the other chairs. “I know yesterday sucked.”

“It was good to see them.”

“Have you not learned by now that you don’t have to lie to me. I don’t need you to be perfect.”

“I’m not trying to be perfect. I do miss them.”

“But it kills you to see them, right?” I look her in the eyes and see how tortured she is. I know because I feel the same guilt she does.

They don’t know what happened on prom night. No one does. They don’t know a lot of things.

“She still thinks I’m so good.” Her voice is strained, and I know she’s talking about my mother.

“Who says you aren’t?”

Her steely eyes lock on me with a punishing look. “I fucked my boyfriend’s brother. I gave you my virginity the night I tried to give it to him first.”

I cringe, my jaw twitching with her breakdown of the night. “I was fucking there.”

“Yeah, you were, Linc.” She gestures in the space between us. “We did this. We messed everything up because we were irresponsible and stupid. I was mad and hurt, and you . . .”

“I what?” I glare at her, my eyes burning through her with hatred and rage she makes me feel at least once a day.

“You just did what you always have done.”

I stand up, pissed the fuck off now as I look down at her sitting in her chair with her judgment and bullshit. “And what the fuck is that exactly, P?”

She stands up, getting in my face, no fucks given. “Whatever the fuck you want.”

We stand in a heated transfixion. “That’s what it was, huh? Just me being selfish.”

“Yes.” Her chin lifts in angry defiance. “That’s exactly what it was. And so was I. I wanted to be touched and feel wanted.”

My hand grabs her hip, pulling her into me. “So then, why do we continue to fuck?”

I feel her suck in a startled breath when our bodies press together, but she doesn’t push me away. “Because we both like pain.”

“So, you’re fucking me to punish yourself? Just tell me. Is that why you keep coming back to me? Being with random guys doesn’t hurt bad enough. But me,” I lean into her ear, my voice a bitter growl, “the way you feel when I’m inside you, it truly tortures you. Because it feels that fucking good.”

Her eyes meet mine. “And that fucking bad at the same time.”

I release her and take a step back, struggling to keep my calm.

“It’s why you do it too.” I turn away from her, looking out at the lake. “You hate me, but you can’t turn me away because you want it to hurt.”

I look away from the lake and back to P. “So, this is our lives now? Punishing the hell out of each other?”

“Every chance we get.”

“Sounds like hell.”

“That’s where sinners go, right?”

I walk back toward the house, brushing her shoulder as I pass her. “Bring on the pain, P.”

I slide open the door and walk inside the house we share, knowing the torture has only just begun.

How much agony does it take before you finally go numb?