All That Really Matters by Nicole Deese (new books to read TXT) 📕
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- Author: Nicole Deese
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Nothing more? Surely he didn’t actually think we could catch up on all we’d missed in an hour or so. We’d missed a lifetime. And not by my doing. By his.
I worked to keep myself in check, to stay in control of the guilt card Carlos loved to play. My temples began to pound, blurring my vision enough for me to reach out for the office chair I’d carried in for Molly earlier. I kneaded my right temple with my knuckle.
“I won’t be calling him.” It was hard enough to pray for Carlos most days, much less track down all the trails his lies would lead me to. I’d taken that dead-end path before and lost.
“Silas, brother, I’m not the same addict you remember. Things are different now. I’m different.” The catch in his throat ratcheted the throbbing in my head to a new level. “You’re the only family I have.”
That sentence never failed to hit me in the gut, no matter how many times I’d spoken it aloud or written it down or tried any of the tactics my therapist had insisted would release the stress my body refused to let go of—long after my concussion and broken bones had healed.
I slammed my eyes closed, seeing and hearing it all again. The lure of lies he’d used to draw me in for the last time, to a drug house full of addicts, money, and nauseating sin.
I’d been arrogant enough to believe I could save him. To think I could rescue him from the same clutches he’d willingly run to once again. The D. A. had said I should count myself lucky. That often altercations involving an enraged addict ended in a fatality. Much less six enraged addicts. And even though my brother wasn’t the one to throw the first punch or steal my wallet or shove me down a flight of cement stairs and leave me for dead, he also hadn’t been the one to stop them.
He’d been too high to do anything but watch, much like the way he looked at his sentencing trial, where the paranoia behind his erratic, shifty eyes matched the panic that spewed from his mouth—accusations and explanations too disgraceful to repeat as the judge demanded his silence.
I’d changed my entire career and future for this brother. But not even The Bridge could fill what he’d stolen from us both that night.
“We aren’t family anymore, Carlos. Please don’t call me again.”
I dropped the phone to my lap, cutting off his voice with a single tap of my screen, knowing without a doubt it wouldn’t be the last I heard it. Because even if Carlos honored my wishes, his voice was forever locked in my memories.
With elbows pressed to the desk in Molly’s office, I dug my knuckles deeper into my temples, exhaling hard—
“Silas?”
I started at the sound of Molly’s voice in the doorway and tried to stand, but I immediately collapsed back into the chair as the mixture of light, sound, and movement crashed over me at once.
“Oh my goodness, Silas.” She rushed toward me. “Are you okay?” I felt her hand on my back. “It’s a migraine, isn’t it? Ocular?”
How she knew that, I’d—
“My Mimi used to get them. Do you have a prescription somewhere?”
“Top drawer of my desk. Right-hand side. It’s locked.” Gingerly, I reached into my pocket and handed her the key ring. “The small silver one.”
“Okay. Be right back.”
I could hear her feet patter across the hallway to my office, and then she was back just as quickly, with the pills and a bottle of water I’d left on my desk earlier.
“Here, take this.” She placed a single pill in my hand and unscrewed the water, bringing it to my mouth for me to take.
“Thank you,” I said after I swallowed it down.
I heard her rummaging somewhere behind me—in a bag? Her purse maybe? A moment later she was beside me again.
“Okay, so this might sound weird, but since I don’t have a rice compress to warm for you, I swear this is the next best thing. All you have to do is inhale.”
“Inhale?”
“Trust me. I lived with my Mimi during my senior year of high school and this was the remedy that helped her most. Take three deep, slow breaths in.”
The powerful fragrance of lavender filled my nostrils as I did what she asked.
“The other thing that helped her was . . .” But her words faded out before she finished the sentence.
I hated that it hurt too badly to open my eyes, but I was next to blind until the pressure passed. The impairment to my vision didn’t usually last longer than thirty minutes, but I felt every sightless second with Molly more acutely than I thought possible. Interpreting her facial expressions had become a critical factor to the way I communicated with her.
“What?” I probed. “What else helped her?”
“It’s just, I’d have to touch you. On the back of your neck, I mean. Is that okay?”
A prickle of heat climbed my spine in anticipation. “Yes, that’s fine.”
Tentatively at first, she pressed her fingers into the back of my neck, trailing a path into my scalp. Her touch alleviated the pressure inside my skull almost immediately.
“Do you see dark spots when it comes on? Or does everything just blur together?”
“Both.”
She braced each side of my head, her fingers gripping the space under my ears as she pushed her thumbs into my tensed muscles, ushering instantaneous relief.
“Who is Carlos?” But before I even had a chance to answer, she rushed on. “You don’t have to tell me, it’s just that I couldn’t help but overhear the tail end of your conversation when I came in to find you.”
At the sound of his name, the tension in my neck returned. I willed the words to come out clear, strong. Detached. “My
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