Siblings with Benefits Ch. 36

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lovecraft68
lovecraft68
22,033 Followers

I was silent as again I heard Mark in my head, this time explaining how he had set Samantha free in order to know once and for all if I was his true love.

"So if I were you Megan, I would tell them how you feel and let all the other stuff work itself out." Mom smiled. "You'd be surprised how easily things can fall into place when your heart's where it belongs."

"Yeah well, I think I lost the chance." I told her sadly.

"Honey, if you didn't really say it, then it's never too late to do that. Trust me no matter how upset you may have made him, hearing those words from you will make it all better."

I..." I shook my head. "It's too late for now Mom, it got pretty ugly and," I put my hands up. "I have to leave at six; I can't miss the meeting with Walsh."

Mom frowned, and I had the feeling she did not agree with what I had just said. A moment later she proved me right.

"Money isn't everything Megan," she shook her head sadly. "Look at Mark, he put his name on the map the way you're hoping to be and he's miserable."

Reaching across the table she took my hand.

"I know it's not easy honey, love is the best feeling in the world, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't take work. If you feel you blew it, and need to go back home then go ahead." She shrugged. "You said this has been going on awhile, maybe there will be another time."

"I...I don't think so." I whispered as I felt the tears start to trickle from my eyes again. "He... pushed me for an answer Mom and I..."

I stopped as I knew if I kept going the sobs would come back. Mom had in essence said everything my brother had, why was I the only one who didn't get it? Was I that broken? Was Mark right? That I really didn't know how to be happy? Mom squeezed my hand then standing, came around the table and hugged me from behind. As she did I felt her touch the locket she had given me, reaching up I held her hand to it, pressing my own over it.

"I love you Mom." I said softly.

"I love you too Megan." Mom said in my ear. "Listen honey, things didn't go well today, but you never know what can happen. For now though things are what they are. You're upset and exhausted." Mom turned her head and kissed me on the cheek.

"It's only three, why don't you go upstairs and lie down for a couple of hours. I'll get you up at five."

"Okay." I doubted I would sleep, but a couple of hours alone would hopefully help me get myself together. After all I had a name to make for myself. I felt the tears flow more as I heard Mark's last remark; "Go take care of yourself; it's what you do best."

Mom let go of me and I slowly stood up to head upstairs. As I passed Mom, she asked;

"What time is Mark picking you up for the airport?"

"He's not." I said quietly

"Really? He always does."

"Yeah well he's kind of busy, tying things up at work." I sighed. "I...I was hoping you guys would take me."

"Of course we will honey." Mom frowned. "You know you said yesterday you had a fight with Mark, things okay with you two?"

I nodded

"Yeah, like I said he's busy." I started to walk away and stopped again. "Oh by the way he promised he was going to call you tomorrow and see if you wanted to go to dinner."

"With no prompting from his big sister of course!" Mom laughed.

"Of course not." I said giving her a pathetic attempt at a smile and hoping Mark would follow through on his promise that he would.

"Yeah well I won't hold my breath." Mom said then reaching up and wiping the tears from my cheek said;

"Go get some rest honey."

I entered my old bedroom and noticed that Mom had picked up after me. All the clothes I had tossed around had been washed, folded and put into my suitcase, which was sitting open on the foot of the bed. I dropped my heels on the bed next to the suitcase, and then quickly peeled out of the corset and mini skirt.

As I took the corset off, I looked in the mirror, and shook my head at the silver chain running across my tits and down and around my waist. It had been a nice surprise for a little while, anyway. I fumbled with the clasps, my trembling fingers causing me to make several attempts, and removing the chain walked over to put it into the small compartment built into the top of the suitcase. The room was not as hot as it had been, and reaching into the suitcase I pulled out a plain black t-shirt.

I closed the suitcase, put it on the floor, and closed the blinds so I could lie down. I probably wouldn't sleep, but at least I might rest. I went to pull the covers down, and I froze. The journal was on my pillow. There was a note attached, a post-it from Mom. I switched on the lamp so I could read it.

Megan, found this on the floor and wasn't sure if you wanted it or not. If not just toss it back in the box.

Toss it was exactly what I wanted to do, but right in the trash where it couldn't be found. With my luck, Mom would take that box to a church bizarre, and some Latin student would find it and get his rocks off.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I put the top half on the nightstand. It hadn't all been bad; there were some sweet memories in there. I found myself thinking of my entry about that rainy Saturday morning when my brother and I had felt more between us. All those years, had they been wasted? Or would we have ended up doing more harm to each other than good back then?

Shaking my head, I picked up the second half of the journal. My intention was to put it on the nightstand as well. Instead, I held onto it and caught myself staring at the black ribbon marking my last entries. I wrote most of it while in New York and had finished it while staying at Mark's and my parents before entering rehab for the last time.

I started a new journal in rehab, and had vowed to never read about those dark days again. In fact, had I known this book was still floating around, when I got out; I would have burned it in a ceremony to rid myself of it and those painful memories.

I started to put it down, but, as if it had a will of its own, my arm stopped. I thought back to earlier, when Mark made that 'big girl' crack. I had taken him up on it and gotten a lot more than I had bargained for. The 'be careful of what you wish for', expression at its finest. As I continued to stare at the half of a book in my hand, my heart started to pound. I had gotten in my brother's face and yelled at him about how I was no longer that weak, needy person anymore, that I could handle both my past and my present.

Still, did I need this? There was nothing but heartache in those pages, the culmination of ten years of addiction, when things had gotten so bad that it caused my brother and me to turn on each other. There was no reason to do this to myself.

Yet my arm still moved no farther. I narrowed my eyes. There was something more there, something I had forgotten, and that had a connection to the present. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on what I did remember from those entries. I saw my brother over me, a look of tenderness on his face. As before, the image came and went before my tired mind could latch onto it Opening my eyes, I stared at the journal. Like a train wreck, I knew I shouldn't want to see it, but I had to look.

I shook my head. What would Mark do?

"Fuck it," I whispered.

After all, it's not like I could feel much worse than I already did.

Reaching back I propped up the pillow and, leaning against it, I pulled my knees up like I used to do when I was a kid. Resting the book on my thighs, I took a deep breath and took the plunge into my last days of addiction.

Dark Days Part one.

I awoke slowly, and as my eyes opened I found myself staring at an old wall with badly peeling wallpaper. Beneath the ugly yellow paper was an even uglier cracked and water-stained wall. Lying there, I tried to focus through the dull ache in my head and remember where I was. This was certainly a far cry from the beautiful bedroom in the East side apartment Tommy and I had been living in the last four months. I was lying on my back, and propping myself up on my elbows, looked around the room. All the walls were a mess and there was one window that was covered with threadbare curtains. I winced at both the light streaming through the curtains and how dry my throat was as I swallowed. Sitting up straight I glanced over the bed and saw that I was only lying on a mattress.

On the floor next to me was a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a half empty bottle of Budweiser. I saw my clothes in a pile near the end of the bed, and, realizing I was topless and a little chilly, I leaned over to grab the blue blouse on top of the pile.

As I did, I felt movement next to me and with a start; I noticed I was not in bed alone. I closed my eyes before I looked over, hoping to hell it wasn't a guy. I was engaged after all. Turning my head, I opened my eyes and saw I was in bed with a young, pretty blond who my hazy mind recognized as Amber.

Well, that told me where I was, anyway. Amber was the younger sister of Jake Harris, a small-time dealer and notorious party hound. As I looked at Amber, I shook my head, I had just turned thirty-one and she had graduated high school not more than a few weeks ago. I slid the blouse on and found myself hoping that I hadn't actually fooled around with her; maybe we had just slept together, as I was sure there were several guys spread out around the apartment outside of the room we were in.

Bringing my right hand to my face, I sniffed my fingers. I sighed softly at the sweet smell of her pussy and quickly removed my hand before I got myself worked up again.

I should be ashamed of myself; this girl was barely an adult. On that note, all thoughts of sex left my mind as it hit me that Amber wasn't the only thing I should be ashamed of.

Reaching down to the floor, I grabbed the cigarettes and, after lighting one, felt Amber stir next to me. I looked over to see that she had rolled over onto her back. As she did, the sheet pulled away from her and I found myself staring at her perfect little perky tits, with their adorable pink nipples. I quickly shifted my eyes from her soft, young flesh to her face.

Amber opened her eyes. I winced at how bloodshot her normally beautiful green eyes were. Her skin was pasty white and she was sweating. She turned her head slightly to me and mumbled, "I don't feel good."

I pulled the sheet up over her tits, and, after gently rubbing the back of my hand across her cheek, I whispered to her, "Go back to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."

She attempted smile and closed her eyes. I caressed her cheek until I could tell by her breathing that she had gone back to sleep. I finished the cigarette, then got up and slipped on the black panties and short black skirt I had worn last night, and, grabbing my heels and purse, I quietly left the room.

My head pounded as I slowly made my way through the living room. Jake and two guys I didn't know were passed out on the couch and the floor. I went into the small bathroom, and, after going, I stood at the sink and looked at my reflection in the cracked mirror. My eyes were as red as Amber's, and I saw with dismay that my nose was running. I sniffed and felt an all too familiar burning in my nostrils. Yeah, Amber really was the least of the sins I had committed last night.

I started to open the door when my stomach convulsed, and I vomited into the sink. I retched several more times before sinking to my knees, my eyes watering and I to tried to catch my breath. Without looking, I reached up and turned the faucet on, letting the water run. After a couple of minutes, I stood up, and, using toilet paper, I washed out the sink as best as I could.

I walked back through the living room. Jake was sitting up on the couch, smoking. He nodded at me as I walked by. Going into the kitchen, I found a glass in the sink that didn't look too dirty and forced myself to drink some cold water. Reaching into my purse, I took out the purple Daniel Steiger watch that Tommy had bought me for my birthday-and that I had been smart enough to put in my purse- and saw that it was 10am. I frowned. What day was this? Tuesday, it was Tuesday and...

"Shit," I said softly.

I was supposed to be in work at 9am. Oh, well, too late now. Even if I were to drive there right now, I was a fucking mess and could barely walk, never mind smile and put make up on women all day. Putting the watch on and making my way out into the living room, I saw Jake had pulled the coffee table over to him and was already cutting cocaine into lines on a glass plate. Looking up at me, he smiled. I saw his eyes were bright and knew that he had already snorted a couple of lines.

"Hey Megan, up for some breakfast?"

I looked longingly at the table. I wanted it so bad. It was just what I needed. Hell, if I did a couple of lines and took a shower, I would be good enough to go to work. I knelt down across the table from him. I fumbled in my purse, and to my dismay, I only had fifteen dollars in my wallet. Hell, I'd had over two hundred last night.

"I...I'm kinda broke," I told Jake.

Jake ran his hand through his long black hair and gave me a smirk. "Well, hey, kiddo, you're already on your knees."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I...I don't do that anymore, I have money at home Jake."

"Yeah, well, I haven't seen you around in months. How the hell do I know you'll pay me?"

I shook my head and started to get up.

"Hey, how about the watch?" Jake asked.

"I can't." I told him. "It was a...."

"I'll let you do a couple off of what's here and give you a little for later." Jake leaned over to stare at the watch. "My girl would love that."

"I..." I hesitated.

I couldn't. What the hell would Tommy think? Of course, I could always tell him I lost it. I frowned as I thought of Tommy. I hadn't even gone home last night.

As Jake looked at me expectantly, I jumped as the front door opened and Joe, Jake's roommate, came in.

"Hey, you get smokes?" Jake asked.

"Yup." Joe reached into a bag and tossed Jake a pack of Marlboro's then he pulled out a newspaper. "Hey, check this shit out, Megan!"

I looked at the paper and my eyes widened as right there on the front page was a picture of Mark. My brother was standing on the steps of the courthouse, facing a group of reporters who were all pointing microphones at him. Before I could make out the headline, Joe turned the paper to face Jake.

"Look at that!"He laughed. "Fucking Mad Dog hitting the big time!"

"No shit!" Jake said, nodding. "Hell, I remember when his punk ass was bouncing at Babyhead." He shook his head. "I saw that crazy bastard kick the shit out of three guys at once one night! So what's it say?"

Joe turned the paper to him and started reading.

"Despite numerous witnesses recanting their testimonies, attorney Mark Phillips not only vows to obtain a conviction, but warns reputed mobster Vincent Dimucci that he has until Friday to accept the AG's last offer or he will take it off the table for good and pursue a maximum sentence." Joe laughed. "Fucking Mark!"

Seeing the picture of my brother made me feel lower than I already did. Standing up from the table, I told Jake I had to go.

Jake shrugged, "Don't be a stranger."As I left, he added, "And no hard feelings about you thinking my sister's hotter than me!"

Joe laughed.

I didn't know what was worse, that I had taken advantage of Jake's sister, or that he thought it was funny.

I walked outside into the cool September morning and, getting into my car, I drove a couple of miles towards Cranston before pulling over in front of a small playground. My stomach felt nauseous and I needed some air. I also had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do. There were a couple of small benches in front of the currently deserted swings and, getting out of the car, I went and sat down on one of them.

Once I sat, I realized that I had been here several times with Dad. He would always take me to playgrounds alone. It was our special time together. I put my head in my hands and started to cry. Even though I had, up until a week or so ago, been sober for several months, my father barely spoke to me. I had done so much damage in the last few years that he still held it against me.

I didn't blame him. That day that he stood with me in court because Mark was out of town, and he heard the judge read off the charge of prostitution had been more than he could handle.

Taking my head from my hands, I removed the cigarettes from my purse and lit one. As I took a long, deep drag, I saw the cell phone that Mark got for me, and with a feeling of dread, I took it out.

I had fifteen missed calls and several voice mails. Scrolling through the calls I saw they were mostly from Tommy, starting from yesterday when I was supposed to come home from work, and the last one was at one am. There were also three from my brother, the first at eleven, when Tommy must have called him to say he couldn't find me. I saw a number from this morning and saw it was work. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I put the phone to my ear to listen to the voicemails. The first few were Tommy, starting with a casual 'When you coming home?' and escalating to the final one:

"Megan, honey call me back, it's..." He paused and I felt the tears start, as I could hear his voice breaking. "It's okay if you're well you know..., just please come home Megan, I'm not mad honey, just worried." He paused again. "Please Megan. You know I'll always love you."

The next message was from Mark:

"Megan, you need to call me, sis. Tommy's worried and so am I." He sighed into the phone. "Look Meg, Tommy told me you... you haven't been doing well lately. I know how you get when you fall. You think you hurt us and we'll be upset." Mark paused and I pictured how sad he was as he tried to tell me things were okay. "But, it's okay, so just call me. If you don't want to go home, you can stay with me. If you need a ride, I'll come get you, I don't care where you are or who you're with, just..." There was another pause before he added quietly, "Please call me, sis."

As I sat there, crying with the phone to my ear, I listened to the last voicemail. It was Joanne from work:

"I'm sorry, Megan. I know you have problems, but today was the third no-call-no-show in two weeks. I have to let you go."

I shook my head, fired from a job that most teenage girls could handle. I went to put the phone back in my purse, then stopped. Swallowing hard and doing the best I could to control my voice, I called Mark. I knew he was in court and it would go to voicemail. I left him a brief message, saying that I was okay and would call him later. I didn't call Tommy. I knew that no matter where he was, he would answer, and I didn't have it in me to hear the disappointment in his voice. Putting the phone away, I sat back on the bench. That old feeling of guilt was gnawing at me.

After nearly six months of sobriety, last week I succumbed to that huge empty hole in my heart and filled it with the only thing that gave me comfort: drugs and alcohol. After ten years, I knew all too well that that comfort was only temporary, but it was better than suffering constantly. The last few months, everyone had been happy with me, Mark, Tommy, and Mom, all thrilled that I was sober and healthy. They didn't have to worry about me.

Four months ago, Tommy took me up to his parents' beach house and proposed to me. Caught off guard, I said yes. I did love Tommy, and God only knew it was a miracle that he loved me after how poorly I had treated him and how many times I had disappointed him.As I thought of Tommy, I looked at the beautiful half karat Marquis on my finger and shook my head in disgust. I shouldn't be wearing it. I shouldn't be living with Tommy in his beautiful apartment and letting him take care of me. In my defense, two weeks ago, after I had gone back to cocaine, I tried to give Tommy the ring back.

lovecraft68
lovecraft68
22,033 Followers