Five Brothers

by Penelope Douglas

Trace is a people pleaser. He hates anyone being mad at him. Comes from years of dodging four older brothers who are all tornadoes. Macon, Army, Iron, and Dallas.

If it were Macon, the oldest, I’d probably just turn around and leave.

Dallas’s green eyes are always looking at me like he’s imagining me on fire.

No parents. Just five brothers. All in the same house. I think some of them want to move out, but they wouldn’t know what to do without each other on a daily basis.

All I ever wanted was to love waking up. To be counted on to make someone’s life better. And I want a man who breathes me. Who craves me and needs me.

“Someday,” he says as he squeezes my throat, “when you look, act, and smell like a pristine pair of fifteen-hundred-dollar heels, and you’re married to a lawyer or a banker who tastes like glue and parades you around like his little trophy…” He flicks his tongue over my ear, taunting me. “I can wonder if it’s my son he’s playing Daddy to.”

“And if you were any fucking good in bed, you would realize they’ll always cross the tracks for the things you can’t give them.”

“I guess I’ll forget the things I love, too.” I go back to sanding. “Life takes you over like that. You lose yourself. Who you were when you were five was the real you. Before everything started to kill you.”