Give Me Peace

by M.K. Harper

but not that day. She wasn’t quite so successful in hiding her hurt, and it didn’t feel nearly as good as I thought it would. Saylor’s eyes had filled with tears, those crystal orbs betraying her as she fought tooth and nail to appear unaffected. The things I’d said, on the front lawn of the school with everyone watching, will haunt me for the rest of my life. She’d embarrassed me, so I was ruthless with my words.

I felt personally responsible for Saylor’s disappearance. And why shouldn’t I? If I hadn’t caused her to miss the bus, she wouldn’t have been walking to begin with. At bare minimum, I could have made sure she got home safely. But I didn’t, and the regret of that is immeasurable. My mom named me Havok for a reason, though.

I had my ass thrown in a holding cell more times than I can count for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. I became obsessed with finding out what happened to her. The men whose jobs I was interfering with didn’t appreciate that too much, but I wanted answers. It was stupid to think I could figure out what no one else had been able to, including the FBI, but I couldn’t let it go. Eventually, I approached Saylor’s mom. That was akin to having my knees taken out with a sledgehammer. It knocked me on my ass to see how alike they were. I never expected it, but we grew close. And then I lost her too.

It takes me off guard when I look up and see the guys standing there, their faces all showing various degrees of concern. All I can think is ‘what the ever-loving fuck has happened now?’. I love these assholes, they’re family, after all, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m heading out again on some bullshit assignment before I’ve even unpacked from the last one.

Before I can ask anything else, Roan pulls a girl from behind his back like he’s performing a goddamn magic trick. My heart’s still beating off-key as I take her in. She’s tiny. In both height and weight. She’s also hurt, judging by the splint on her wrist and the bruises marking her body. It’s a horribly inappropriate thought, but fuck she’s beautiful.

I’m vaguely aware that I’m verbalizing these thoughts, in the shittiest way possible, I might add. Fairly certain I use the word ‘illiterate’. Saylor’s eyes widen, my name slipping from her lips as she stumbles back. Fuck me. That sweet, innocent voice hasn’t changed at all. It’s really her.

“Care to explain?” I lean against the wall with my arms crossed. “I didn’t know what we were walking into, Kade,” Lochlan sighs. “The last thing I wanted to do was get your hopes up for nothing.” “Right.” I nod in agreement, his reasoning sound. “And when you realized it was something? Or how about day two or three? What about then?

“There’s a lot we haven’t told Saylor,” Roan chimes in. “She knows her mom died because some asshole cop blurted it out, but she’s yet to ask how it happened. I think she’s aware of how fragile she is at the moment, so she’s choosing to stay in the dark for now.” “Start at the beginning.”

“You don’t understand,” I snap, pacing around the living room. “He put me in a fucking jail cell, Loch. Accused me of hindering an investigation.

He’s so fucking gone already. A haze of red coats my vision, but I bite back the threat I wanna make. “I think we can all agree that we should do whatever's needed to make Saylor as comfortable as possible,” Loch placates. “We’ll have to come clean about everything soon, but I also think we should establish some ground rules.” I cock my head to the side, curious to hear what he’s thinking.

Just be conscious of the things you say and do. Allow her to be the one to initiate contact, but at bare minimum, give her the choice to decline.” I'm relieved, but shocked. I expected worst case scenario, and now I feel guilty for being glad that it only went so far. It was traumatizing, regardless of the extent, and I wish more than anything that Liam never laid his eyes on her. I’ve worked assault cases before, but this is personal. It’s Saylor. I won’t be able to detach emotionally if I see her breaking. I wish I could fast forward and skip all the hard moments, but life doesn’t work that way.

” I'm relieved, but shocked. I expected worst case scenario, and now I feel guilty for being glad that it only went so far. It was traumatizing, regardless of the extent, and I wish more than anything that Liam never laid his eyes on her. I’ve worked assault cases before, but this is personal. It’s Saylor. I won’t be able to detach emotionally if I see her breaking. I wish I could fast forward and skip all the hard moments, but life doesn’t work that way.

Everything a girl could possibly need—pads of every kind, tampons in all sizes and brands, Midol, even a pack of mini Hershey’s. Right at my fingertips. This is clearly Kash’s doing. He didn’t know what I’d like, so he bought it all. I wipe a tear away, aware that my bath water is dangerously close to overrunning.

It’s probably the brain’s way of maintaining sanity. We talk it down, that thing we loved so much, like it’s no big deal that we can’t have it anymore. Eventually, we crave it less because it’s no longer a part of our new normal. But as I sit here, covered to my chin in bubbles, I’m not sure how I ever made it five years with only a rusted sink.

I think I’ll always feel this sense of being unclean. There are parts of Liam I won’t be able to wash away. They won’t fade like the bruises will. Nothing short of a time machine can undo the damage in my head.

Havok McKade. I don’t understand how or why he’s here, but it’s obvious he knows the men I’m now living with. That he’s a part of this group they’ve created. It makes no sense, and he’s the last person in the world I imagined I’d ever see again. To be honest, I assumed everything I left back in Pike’s Bay was now a part of the past.

If I had known that he would be involved, I never would have agreed to come here. Lochlan said I’d be safe with them, but I can honestly say that Havok has never once elicited that feeling from me. Even stranger, is the way he behaved. I’ve felt anger from him. Envy. Annoyance. Hatred. But never has he looked at me the way he did earlier. He seemed relieved, almost happy.

Havok is two years older than me, but I had been drawn to him from the moment I first saw him. I’d just started Kindergarten, while he was in second grade. My recess overlapped with his P.E. class, and on occasion they would be on the field that butted against the playground. Havok was always angry, and for some reason, that bothered me. I didn’t like to see other people upset. The day I tried to play with him, was the day he decided to hate me. I’ve never been the type of person who could brush off not being liked. I want to understand what I did wrong, if I said something rude.

It’s pathetic of me, but once upon a time, I had a crush on Havok. I naively thought I could fix the broken boy with ice in his eyes, but he proved he never needed saving, and certainly not from me.

I’m nervous for tomorrow. To be around the guys again after feeling like they deliberately kept something from me in order to sway my decision. I’ve been living in this place of ignorance, by my own choosing, since I found out about Mom. But I need to suck it up and face reality. The answers aren’t going to change, no matter how long I put off asking them.

nervous for tomorrow. To be around the guys again after feeling like they deliberately kept something from me in order to sway my decision. I’ve been living in this place of ignorance, by my own choosing, since I found out about Mom. But I need to suck it up and face reality. The answers aren’t going to change, no matter how long I put off asking them.

I glance at the door, double checking that the lock is still in place. I feel safe here...

As if summoned, the person bent behind it rises and looks directly at me. I hadn't made a sound, but he seems keenly aware of my arrival. “Hi,” Krew whispers. I wave, swallowing past the lump in my throat. His expression is blank, giving no indication of what he’s thinking. I worry I’ve crossed a line,

“You won’t always have them,” he states out of nowhere, rinsing our plates in the process. I scrunch my nose in confusion. “The nightmares,” he clarifies. “That’s what woke you, right?” I debate answering because, honestly, I’m not sure.

“Do you have a sweatshirt I can borrow? I don’t want to make things weird for anyone, but I can’t wear a bra right now.” I think I’m as shocked as Kash is that I managed to articulate my problem so bluntly, but he makes it easy to open up and say what I’m feeling. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s the one who went and bought it all, so if I have to bring this up with someone, it might as well be the guy who picked said garments out.

The only attention I’ve ever received from him has been swiftly followed by a cutting remark, leading to my inevitable humiliation, so it’s logical to assume that’s where this is headed. “No, she does not find it good,” Havok states calmly, taking a sip of his hot bean water. Completely black, I might add. He must like it to match the color of his cold, dead heart. I feel guilty the second I let the thought form, knowing I’m not the kind of person to judge so callously, nor do I want to be. Especially when a part of me has always felt there was something more to the brooding boy who insisted on bullying me every chance he could. “What?” Kash looks at him in confusion. “Saylor likes her bacon crunchy, almost to the point of being burnt. And she doesn’t eat eggs.” I gape at Havok’s reply, wondering how the hell he knows those things.

“Oooh!” Kash’s fork clanks as he drops it, breaking the silence we’d formed while eating. “I have an idea.” He opens a drawer, digging around for a second before he pulls out a small notepad and pen. “Let’s make a list.” I watch as he scrawls my name at the top, then adds ‘likes’ and ‘dislikes’ beneath it. “Crunchy bacon goes here,” Kash declares, the tip of his tongue poking out in concentration. “And eggs over here.” They’re placed in their respective columns, and then the paper is tucked beneath a magnet on the fridge. I blink at it, a mixture of emotions bubbling to the surface. “We’ll leave this here, so if there’s something you want us to know, or we should know and you don’t feel comfortable outright saying it, you can just add it to the list.”

“First off, I’d like to say how sorry we are for what happened yesterday. It was never our intention to keep Kade a secret. We had planned to explain everything before he got here,” Lochlan admits.

Kade

I sit there on the cold marble floor of our kitchen until my ass is numb, but Saylor continues to shake. She finally passed out, but I’ve been too afraid to move. Her mind and body need the rest too much for me to chance waking her.

When she pressed her tear-stained face against my neck, everything shifted. That gaping hole inside of me felt a little smaller. Her tiny hands gripped my shirt like a lifeline, and I knew there and then, no matter what it takes, I’ll make her forgive me. I’ll fix the pieces I broke, because there won’t be a day between now and the one I die that’s spent without her. Her and I, we’re tethered for life, whether she realizes it or not.

I thought she’d never looked more beautiful. I also wanted to rip my shirt off and have her wear it instead. Her hair was mussed from sleep, but those guarded blue eyes still looked at me with a hint of fear, and that alone stole my focus. I’m sure Saylor has no idea what to expect from me. I’ve given her no reason to think that she can let her guard down while I’m around, but I’m determined to make things right.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I whisper, not wanting to break the bubble we’re in. “There’s something I’d like to show you. Would that be, okay?” Her eyes dart back and forth between mine, likely searching for whatever bullshit she thinks I’m trying to pull. She nods, but it’s clear she’s questioning her decision, so I step back and head to my room before she changes her mind.

“You haven’t asked, but I’m sure you’d like to know. Liz had breast cancer. It was aggressive, but she had a chance at beating it. Unfortunately, she declined any intervention.” “What?” Saylor’s disbelief is evident, as is the hurt in her voice. “What does that mean?” “I think she was tired and heartbroken, so she didn’t see a point in fighting what she deemed inevitable. Recovery was slim. I didn’t know until things were too bad and treatment was no longer an option. I promise you I would’ve tried to change her mind had I known sooner, which is probably the exact reason she didn’t tell me.” I regret not noticing the signs I should’ve picked up on. Liz being tired more often than normal, the drop in weight. I’d attributed the changes to stress from work and Saylor’s case growing colder by the day. Not to mention I was living here, three hours away, and didn’t see her nearly as often.

“I was there till the very end. I made sure she wasn’t alone.” Saylor’s chin trembles. Maybe one day she'll feel comforted by knowing that, but these truths are too fresh to find any sort of silver lining. “She set aside some things for me to keep, and a letter she wrote to you. Just in case you ever found your way home.”

“I hate the name Havok,” I tell her honestly. “My parents thought it was fitting, I guess, since I fucked up their plans by being born.” “I’m sorry. I won’t use it anymore.” She frowns, looking bothered by my admission. “It’s okay, pretty girl.” I grin, not wanting her upset on my behalf. “I don’t mind you calling me that. It’s more the way it was used, how it was spoken, than the name itself. Like it was synonymous with a curse word. I’ve never felt that way when you say my name.”

“Thank you.” “For what?” I quirk an eyebrow in confusion. “For everything. The things you did for my mom. For never giving up on me. The apology.” Her eyes are bright with emotion again, but I force back the need to go to her. “It wasn’t your fault, but I might’ve used you as something to bitch about while I was down there.” I laugh, my smile wide and genuine, not the least bit offended by her honesty. “And as for everything that happened between us before that day? You’re forgiven.” She shrugs a shoulder, like it’s no big deal to her when it means the fucking world to me. “You mean that?” I can hear the strain in my voice.

I’m not a soft man. I’ve never known an ounce of affection outside of Eliza Radley and the men I’ve come to call brothers, and even then, we’re not sitting around, hugging every day while forming a trust circle to share our feelings. It’s a sense of belonging with them, a level of comfort I’ve allowed myself to enjoy. Because I know, no matter what bullshit I pull or how badly I fuck up, they’ll never turn their backs on me. That kind of loyalty is rare, and I won’t take it for granted. But Saylor…Saylor feels like home. She makes the years of neglect and misery take a backseat, because she's here now, and everything that happened prior to her is irrelevant. I’m putty in that girl’s hands and it fucking terrifies me. She has me completely exposed, offering myself to her in whatever way she’ll take me.

I’ve spent the last few hours going through the box of belongings Havok had been holding on to, looking at each item with new eyes. These are the only things I have left of my life with Mom.

Mom always said I was the greatest love of her life, so who better to spend the day with than me. Crazy how blissfully unaware we were of the impending doom. Like I said, we rarely see those moments coming. Devastation like that, the sort that tips your world on its axis and changes who you are on a fundamental level, gives no warning. Those particular ruinations like to blindside you. I would have never imagined that three short months after we’d taken this picture everything would change. Who could possibly anticipate something like that?

The only thing I don’t look at is the letter. I’m not ready to open it. Those are the last words I’ll ever get from my mother. And she wrote them to me, the Saylor I am today. For a few minutes, I'll still have her with me, but I know it won’t be long enough. As soon as I read them, she’ll be gone.

Lochlan’s words play on repeat, but no matter how many times I force myself back awake, I’m just too tired to ward off the nightmare that awaits me. Eventually, I lose the battle. And as I feared, I quickly sink to the pits of my own personal hell. I’m back. It wasn’t real—not the guys or the hospital.

Warmth floods me, and not the hot, sweaty kind that woke me. This feels like safety and being cared for. The blanket at my feet is tossed back, revealing Kash. The second he sees me, a huge grin lights up his face. “Mornin’, Cupcake.” He stretches lazily, making the most ridiculous noises. Like a domino effect, the other three start to move around too, grunting and groaning, as if waking up is the hardest thing they’ve ever done. “Since you didn’t specify who you were asking to stay last night, and no one was willing to risk losing at a game of rock-paper-scissors, we decided it was an open invitation. So, we all stayed,” Kash explains as he climbs to his feet. “More like they refused to leave,” Lochlan scoffs as he slides his glasses on.

“You didn’t!” My shocked inhale is overexaggerated. “I wanted that.” I poke my bottom lip out, my eyes doing that thing Mom used to yell at me for. She hated it when I gave her this exact look while trying to get my way. The guys glare at Havok with murder in their eyes. I watch, in slow motion, as horror and regret wash over his face.

Krew

Not one of them had any interest in leaving the house, or should I say Saylor, but Loch and I need to have a conversation with her that doesn’t involve anyone else. At least until she decides otherwise. I’d been awake, working through bank statements for a client, when Saylor’s ear-piercing scream shattered through quiet.

Cursing up a storm, I grabbed the hairpin key that Lochlan keeps in his office and dropped to my knees. My hands shook, but seconds later I managed to feed it through the hole in the doorknob and disengage the lock. It felt like an eternity passed as Saylor wailed from the other side. My focus was singular, so I felt more than heard the guys behind me,

Saylor’s screams were morphing into Kash’s, a sound I swore I’d never have to hear again. It wasn’t the blue-eyed blonde thrashing and pleading for help, it was my twin. I can’t count how many times I was ripped awake in the middle of the night to those same pained cries because I was too late and failed to protect my brother.

I've been fine for years, but one small setback can easily reopen the wound. Unfortunately, no matter how much effort you put into healing the damaged parts, it can take decades to fully scar. Until then, the skin is fragile and a slight bump can rip the scab right off. Before you know it, it’s bleeding all over again.

And the cherry on top of the shit cake? Kash, who hasn’t spent a night away from me since we were kids, chose to sleep at the end of Saylor’s bed, refusing to leave her. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation on his part. So, as I was spiraling, needing my brother more than I have in years, he’d been perfectly content to curl around her feet without a second thought. And that scares the hell out of me.