When I Was Theirs

24. Jared

24

Jared

S he rushes past me, the hitch in her breathing telling me she’s crying, or about to.

Emilia.

Emmy.

I don’t look at her. I can’t.

All of my humanity, whatever is left of it – it’s all focused on the bed in front of me.

I take a single step. Another.

Ben watches me silently, until I’m right next to him, gripping the cool rail that surrounds his bed. “You look like shit, Ben Ben.”

The smallest smile crosses his lips, tilting them up. “You can’t tell a dying man they look like shit. That’s savage, Jar.”

Savage is all I’ve got.

This is all I’ve got to give him. Because if I don’t give him shit, I’ll give him my grief instead, but the weight of it would bury him.

My brother doesn’t look as if he’ll survive a light breeze at this point.

I sniff, blowing out a breath. “Shift over, then.”

Ben’s lips part at the familiar words, his response slow. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

***

“Shift over.”

I roll my eyes at my little brother. Benny offers me a hopeful, teary smile. Bear is clutched to his chest, the ragged toy in dire need of a bath. “You can go back to bed. I’m okay.”

“Shut up.” I nudge him, eyeing the other bunk beds. Everyone else is asleep, or pretending to be. “Budge up and let me in. You’re taking up the whole damn bed.”

Sighing, I shove him over and fold myself onto the small, hard mattress. Benny rolls into me, a skinny elbow jabbing into my side and making me grunt. “Will you stop? Close your eyes and go to sleep.”

“Can’t,” he whispers. “Tell me a story, Jar.”

I purse my lips, staring at the ceiling. “I’m all out of stories.”

“Pwease.” He can’t pronounce the word properly. “Oh. I did it again.”

“You’ll grow out of it soon. Don’t worry.”

He’s only six. I suppose it’s kind of sweet.

“And then I’ll be eleven,” Ben sounds awed. “Like you.”

“Yep.” We can work on his math skills another time.

There’s a thud from downstairs, and Ben flinches.

I raise my arm, and he curls himself underneath it. The shouting starts up again.

“I don’t like this place,” he whispers. “I want to go back to the last place.”

My eyes snag on the black bin bag in the corner. Ben’s clothes are still inside. “We can’t go back there. But when we’re older, I’m going to get us our own place, Benny. You’ll have your own room and everything. I’m going to play music, and you can do whatever you want to do.”

“Darryl said I’m useless.”

Because Darryl, the guy downstairs throwing his weight around like Rocky, is such a useful person. He wouldn’t win an ass-scratching contest, and he spends most of his time doing it. “Darryl doesn’t know shit.”

Ben’s eyes round, and I frown. “Don’t repeat that.”

A small finger pokes me in the side, and I catch it, pretending to bite it until he giggles. “One story. Pwease.”

“Fine.”

***

I blink, wiping away the memories.

My voice is hoarse. “I know. Shift over, Benny.”

My little brother is a shell, his arms painfully thin. They shake as he pushes himself upright, gripping the rail for extra support. He waves me off when I move to help. “I’m not dead yet.”

I should sit in the chair beside him. But I can’t bear the thought of that, of sitting beside him and politely holding his hand as the hours dwindle and everything that makes him Ben fades away.

His movements are painfully slow as he pulls himself further across the bed, before I toe off my shoes and squeeze in beside him.

We lay facing each other.

There’s so much to say that I can’t figure out where to begin.

“You’re an idiot,” I mutter finally, and he chokes out a quiet laugh. His golden skin looks mottled, almost waxy.

“I know,” he says finally, searching my face. “I’m sorry, Jar. Sorry that I left like that. But… I also can’t regret it.”

His eyes flicker to the door. “Although I should.”

I study him. “So… Emilia. Not just a friend, then.”

He swallows, and it looks painful. I twist, looking for a drink on the table next to me, but he shakes his head in refusal. “You’ll like her, Jar.”

“I’m sure I would,” I say carefully. “But she’s not a priority for me right now.”

“Maybe not for you,” he murmurs. “But she’s a priority for me.”

He shifts, hissing.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Fucking everywhere.” He groans, burying his face against the pillow we’re sharing. “I need to say something. I’ve been… in and out. Before I’m out again.”

I don’t say anything. Every muscle in my body is tense as I watch Ben struggle.

“There are… letters. Emmy knows where. They explain better than I will.”

“Okay.” My brow furrows as he struggles. “I’ll read the letters.”

He nods. “I need you to keep an eye on her. Please.”

I glance over my shoulder as if she’s still in the room. “On your girlfriend?”

He licks his dry lips. “She’s more than that, Jar. She’s my forever. I found my forever, and I don’t get to live it. How fucking unfair is that?”

I have to force myself not to look at the doorway. To see if she’s there, listening.

He coughs, then. A wet, hacking cough that grates against my own lungs as he twists.

“Life isn’t fair,” I say when he stops. “I learned that a long time ago.”

“Don’t do that.” Ben pokes me in the ribs, exactly like he used to do when we were kids. “Sometimes good things happen. You have to hold onto them when they do.”

I don’t say anything, not wanting to dampen his positive outlook. Not that I’ve ever been able to. My brother has always had a knack for seeing the good things through all the shit we’ve had thrown at us.

Even now.

I focus on his chest, counting the breaths.

“She could be your good thing,” he whispers, and my eyes flick to his. “You know, when I met her… I was glad that I met her first, and not you.”

I blink. Something stutters inside my chest. “What? Why?”

He closes his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Not right now. I need to… get ready. I have to go soon. But you need to take care of her, Jar. It’s important.”

His words send a wave of cold sweeping over my body.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I ask roughly.

He only responds more than a minute later, when I think he’s asleep.

“I’m glad you came, Jar.”