Chapter Forty One

Raleigh


Aspen and her mother left only a few days ago but from the way Lincoln talks about their leaving, it sounds like the whole family is feeling their loss, and I can’t blame them. They only just got Aspen back and now they’ve lost them again.
Lincoln said that Boston has absolutely shut down, won’t talk to anyone and if he does, he just seems to be trying to pick fights, and he’s worried about him.
I’ve spoken to Aspen briefly a few times, just checking in to make sure that she’s okay, but our conversations are more filled with awkward small talk or silence than anything meaningful. I want to talk to her about Boston, to try to convince her of the truth about their relationship, but after talking with my brothers on it, they said that I need to stay out of it and let her come to the realization on her own, and I guess part of me knows that they’re right, but I hate knowing how much he’s hurting and that I’m not even trying to help.
“Hey girl,” Serenity says, bumping her hip into mine as she comes up next to me as I grab my books from my locker for my first class of the day. “How are things?”
I sigh, not knowing what to say. Things with Lincoln and I are great, fantastic even, but I hate that he’s hurting and that I can’t help him either. Aspen leaving shattered him also, maybe not in the same way at it did his brother, but still the loss has left him reeling, seeking comfort and answers. I’m just glad that I’ve been able to be here for him to extend, at the very least, the comfort that he’s needing.
“Weird?” I say with a shrug of my shoulder, the single word coming out as more of a question than a statement.
“How so?” She asks, leaning against the locker next to mine, facing me.
“I don’t know. Things with Lincoln are great, but a part of me feels guilty because I’m reaping the benefits of his hurt. I feel like we’ve grown closer in the last few days than we have since the beginning of our relationship. We’ve talked, like actually *talked*, and I mean, yeah, we talked before, but the conversations that we’ve had over the last few days have been deeper, more.”
“But, that’s good right?” She quirks an eyebrow as she asks the question, totally giving off *Dwayne the Rock Johnson* vibes. My lips pull to the side in a slight smile, but fall quickly when I think about what Lincoln told me yesterday.
We’re laying in my bed, his fingers trailing my own, playing with them as silence surrounds us. Breaking the silence, Lincoln murmurs, “My mom really fucked the four of us up.”
“Why would you say that?” I ask, my eyes pinned on his movements as his fingers trail up and down my left ring finger several times.
“She was a great mom when we were younger, doting, always there for us. She attended all of our ball games and other events, made us homemade breakfast, and packed a lunch for us every day for school. When we would get home from school, she’d patiently help us with our homework before starting dinner. Dad would get home, we’d eat as a family, and then we’d spend our evenings spending time together, the six of us.
“Dad didn’t bury himself in work, we didn’t bury ourselves in sports or other* Vices. *We were a family. We started noticing that she was gone more often, only a few nights a month at first but eventually, she would be gone at least once a week. We’d noticed the gradual change in her but figured it was just because we were getting older, that maybe we had caused the distance since had started wanting to spend more time with friends, which meant spending less time with our mom.
“One day, we were ten—almost eleven, we had a half day at school and mom didn’t show up to get us. We ended up catching a ride home with one of our friends. As soon as we walked through the front door, we knew that something seemed different, that something was wrong. The house was too quiet. Our mom always had music playing, always singing and dancing, but today there was none of that. Athere was only complete silence. We all broke off, going into different parts of the house to look for her. I’ll never forget the sound of the scream that left my brother's throat when he found her,” Lincoln’s entire body shudders at the memory, and wanting to comfort him, I twine my fingers through his, giving his hand a slight squeeze.
“We all came running from different parts of the house to where we heard the scream and found Jackson kneeling over our mom passed out on the floor with a needle in her arm. We didn’t know what the needle meant, not at the time. Bos called Dad and told him how we’d found her. He told him to hang up and immediately call for an ambulance, that he was leaving work right then and would be home soon. Although, I suspect Dad already knew, at the hospital we learned that she’d overdosed on drugs.
“She was never the same after that. She was distant, hardly spending any time with us, always either gone or cooped up in her room. Her and Dad’s relationship became basically non-existent after the overdose. He tried to help her in any way that he could, offering to check her into rehab, go to NA meetings with her, counseling. Anything that he could think of to help her but she didn’t want his help. She didn’t want to quit the drugs. The drugs had become more important to her than anyone and anything in her life, including us.
“When she was around, instead of the loving mom that we had always known her to be, she was angry, always yelling and hitting us. Once, she pushed Dal down the stairs. Thank Christ he only broke his arm, but that was Dad’s final straw. He filed for divorce the very next day. The only times over the last seven and a half years that we’ve seen our mom is when she wants something, coming to one of us at a time, pleading for money. Griping and moaning about how she didn't get what she was owed in the divorce, that helping her out was the least that we could do.
“Lincoln,” I gasp his name, the tears filling my eyes, falling down my cheeks when I raise up over him, taking in his pain-stricken face, lowering mine until our lips meet. Pulling back, putting only a hairsbreadth of distance between us, I whisper, “I’m so sorry. You deserve so much better than that. All of you do.”
Burying his hands in my hair, he leans in, closing the distance between our lips once more. The kiss becomes heated incredibly fast, and soon, I’m flipped onto my back with Lincoln grinding against my core.
“Help me to forget?” He whispers, his eyes wild and pleading as he looks down at me.
Instead of answering, I trail a hand down his body, slipping it into his jeans before grasping ahold of his rigid cock, making him bury his head at the junction between my neck and shoulder, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin as he groans in pleasure.
“Fuck, Baby girl,”
“Uh, oh.” Serenity says, pulling me out of my thoughts as she gives me a sly grin. “I know that look. You didn’t just talk but also reaped the *rewards* of his hurt, didn’t you?”
I can feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment and quickly duck my head, avoiding her gaze. “Look, I’m very well aware that you two get hot and heavy. Walked in on it, remember?” She chuckles and the reminder, causing my cheeks to burn even hotter. Ignoring my growing embarrassment, she continues, “But just be careful. It’s not even been two months yet and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“He won’t hurt me,” I say, shaking my head as I defend the guy that is quickly stealing my heart, resolute in that knowledge.
“I really hope he doesn’t. I like him.” That statement gets me to look at her, glare at her is a more accurate description of the daggers that I am currently aiming at my best friend. “For you,” she says, eyes widening and hands raising as she takes a step back. “I like him for *you*.”
“That better be all it is,” I growl, easing open the fists that I had been tightly clenching at my sides at her remark.
“You’re really serious about him, aren't you?” She asks, a new light in her eyes.
“Yeah, I really am,” I say, butterflies fluttering in my stomach at just the thought of my boyfriend, and my chest aching at how much I already miss him, even though we were just together last night.
“Ray,” the way she says my name, all soft and filled with concern has me holding my breath as I wait for her next words. “Have you slept with him?”
“No,” I tell her honestly, giving give my best friend a shy smile and shutting my locker when the first bell rings.
*But I’ve thought about it. A lot. And I think that I want to, that I’m ready.*