Page 6 of Desolation
On a particularly hot, summer day, their mother loaded the twins into the car, pulled up to the closest foster group home, dragged them to the front of the building and zip tied their wrists to the stairs leading up to the building. She walked away without another glance as they sobbed for their mother, not understanding why she was leaving them or that it was forever.
Ever since then, they’ve locked down their more serious emotions. Long periods of low moods take them back to those memories and sets them into depressive episodes. It took years for them to reveal even that much to me.
Growing up, Hale and Zedd were my anchors when I needed to feel grounded, Luke and Leo were my life rafts when I was pulled down into the dark waters of my mind, whereas Ash was the asshole lifeguard who refused to let me drown.
Holding my hand over my heart in mock dismay, I push myself up off the ground. As Hale follows me to a standing position, I lean into him, wiping my tingling, half-asleep ass to get off the dirt and debris. I whisper conspiratorially, “I think they’re scared of getting their ass whooped in another contest. That’s why they’re hoarding the beers like dragons with treasure.”
He slings his arm around me with a chuckle, graciously dropping the earlier conversation, and steers me over to the rest of the group.
“So now thatthat’sout of the way, what would you like to do for your birthday, Sugar Britches?” Luke asks, testing out his nickname of the day.
I will never grow old of hearing the ridiculous, surprisingly creative combinations that he always comes up with—or the guys’ exasperated groans at each new attempt to draw a laugh from me.
Scoffing at the ‘name of the day,’ I goad him. “Seriously?Sugar Britches?That’s the best you could do? Well’s running a little dry there on creativity, huh?”
His mouth drops open at my rejection of the name, mock outrage painted on his face. As he has his drama queen moment, I soak up the love that I feel for these men. They helped mold me into the person that I am today and I can’t bear the thought of having to part with any of them.
They all fill a different piece of my soul. Pieces to the puzzle that is my heart, which would be incomplete without them.
It may seem impossible but I love them all equally. Which just makes it all the more difficult to take the leap from platonic into romantic.
Imagine if I could have them all.
But there’s no way they would ever be cool with sharingonewoman. Especially me. And if they just see me as a foster sister?
I suppress the full-body cringe that threatens at the thought.
Nope.
I’d rather pledge myself to ignoring the near-constant ache between my thighs and the sexual fantasies that plague my dreams at night.
At least a girl can dream. Those, at least, are safe.
There has to be a man out there that will swoop in and distract me from these guys.Right?
Zedd’s voice startles me out of my thoughts. “It’s getting late. Beth will be expecting us home soon. Let’s not worry her any more than she already does.”
Ever the thoughtful one, Zedd clings to Beth almost as much as I do. When he placed the desire for a parental figure onto Beth, she took him by the hand and gave that love right back to him.
Unlike the rest of the guys who feel resentment towards their biological ‘families,’ Zedd doesn’t, despite having every reason to. He was just a child when his parents up and left one day without warning. Leaving him behind while taking his sister with them. Instead of the hatred that they deserve, he blames himself for not being good enough to keep and suffers from major abandonment issues. With Beth, he’s always helping her around the house, and asking her if she needs anything. He thinks I don’t see it, but I know he’s trying to prove he’s worth keeping around this time.
Zedd is right though. We’ve outgrown the curfew Beth set for us as kids, but we still abide by it. She’s lost so much already and lives in an almost-constant state of fear for us. On the one occasion we were late coming home, she stayed up waiting for us, worried sick.
We owe her everything and paying her back with anxiety isn’t the plan.
“You heard the man! Let’s head home. Autobots, roll out!” I yell out, quoting my favorite movie,Transformers. It was the last movie we saw in our local theatre before it was destroyed by a category F5 tornado several years back.
The guys gather the empty beer cans, illuminated under the soft glow of the full moon and make sure the fire is put out properly while I stand there admiring them.
Ash and Hale are on the bulkier side, wide-chested with shirts that always pull just a little too tight on their frame, but in the most delicious way. The twins have more of a swimmer’s build, all lean, toned muscle that I have the pleasure of frequently seeing because they have an aversion to shirts.Notthat I’m complaining.
If I miss breakfast, I feast on the sight of their abs. Whenever they smile and their dimples pop out, I instantly melt into a puddle of want and need.
Then, there’s my sweet, nerdy Zedd. He’s slimmer than the rest of the group with natural abs and muscle. I’ve always been envious of his ability to retain his build despite his addiction to junk food.
I’m happy with my body, long and supple with soft curves. But if I ever want abs, it’ll have to be in my dreams because I love food.
I haven’t done anything to deserve these guys in my life but I’ll stick to them like an annoying barnacle for as long as I can. Even if it means kicking my romantic feelings to the curb.
