Too Far Gone

It was 11 in the morning when I had finally gotten in. Mom and Dad were still at work, and Bryce still had another three weeks left before graduation. I made Adrian promise to come down next weekend, he was going to stay until after Bryce's graduation. Although, I think he was coming to see me more than to see Bryce.

Principal Walker called me a few days ago and asked me to give a speech. I had graduated top of my class, top of the state actually, full scholarship, and model student. I'd never even had detention. And my brother was in the graduating class, Cum Laude. I was honored to even be asked, so, of course I accepted. I was going to surprise Bryce with it tonight.

Bryce.

I looked at the clock, 1:34. I decided to check out Bryce's room, see what I could learn about my subject from his environment. It was a standard practice.

All our rooms were in the same hallway. Adrian and Bryce's on this side, mine on the other. I opened Bryce's door. Nothing. There was nothing in here! I mean, there was stuff: bed, dresser, mirror, but nothing personal. No pictures of him or friends, no posters of sexy models or rock stars or athletes. Nothing that would give the room any personality. Nothing that made it his. There wasn't even a radio. Adrian had a whole sound system in his room.

I lifted up the mattress, no porn. I went through his drawers, looked under his bed. The room was immaculately clean. This kind of clean was disturbing. Especially for a boy. And in the middle of the week. People cleaned on Saturday. How many 18 year old boy's room could pass a white glove test on a Wednesday? There should be clothes, socks, underwear. Dust should have settled. Things should be kicked under the bed. But, for all it was Bryce's room, it could have been a guest room. Hell, hotel room's had more personality. I looked in his closet.

All black. All his clothes were black. Black jeans, black shirts, black suits, black shoes. Black. Everything. At least I knew his favorite color now. Still, I thought as I looked through the clothes, if he didn't have any fashion sense, he did have taste. This stuff was expensive. These were designer shirts. Expensive. How did he have the money for this stuff?

I jumped as I heard someone clear their throat.

Bryce.

He was so much bigger than I remembered him. Was this the same boy I had just seen last Christmas? His dark hair capped off a handsome face with dark eyes that were glaring at me. "What are you doing in here?"

"What are you doing home?" I asked, trying to deflect as I moved toward him.

He didn't move out of the doorway. Instead, he stretched his arm across the doorway to block me. And that was a large body he had blocking my way to freedom. "What are you doing in my room?" He was angry.

"Just looking around, getting my bearings." I slipped under his arm and out of the closet. "You'll understand when you come home from Grand." His eyes followed me around the room, but he was more relaxed now. Now that I wasn't in his closet? "So why are you home so early? Won't you be missing some classes?"

"It doesn't matter. I could skip the rest of the year. With my grades, I walk either way. Wait," his eyes narrowed, "why am I explaining myself to you?"

"Because I'm your big sister and-"

"Get out."

"Bryce, I-" He grabbed my arm and dragged me through the door. Then he slammed it in my face and locked it. Well, I thought as I looked at the solid wood door, not much point trying to make a connection with that.

I walked back into my room and sat down on the bed to begin writing my notes. Territorial, rebellious... Could I label skipping school as rebellious? After all, he was pretty certain he'd still graduate. And what about his room? Completely void of personality. What the hell do I call that? I chewed on the pen cap. Nothing yet, just a note. For now. Favorite color: black.

I laid back on my bed, looking around my room. Posters, pictures, artwork, trophies. I had just gotten home and I already had clothes on the floor. My dresser was littered with souvenirs and memorabilia. My mirror was hidden behind pictures of me with friends and family. I looked closer at the pictures. Mom, Dad, Adrian, Chelsea, Diana, Richard, Casey... Family and friends from as far back as I could remember. And not one of Bryce.

I pulled out my report sheet and looked at it. Looked at the questions. What did I really know about my little brother? I scratched out purple and wrote down black.

I sat in my room for a depressing three hours until my parents got home, looking for any evidence of Bryce in my life. And feeling a little awkward about running into Bryce after snooping in his room. The only thing I could find was a picture of me as a little girl holding Mr. Bloop, a plush purple blob that Bryce had given me. 'Is that where I got purple from?' I had no idea what happened to Mr. Bloop.

A whole childhood of spent living across the hall from Bryce, and I couldn't even find one picture of us together. Even in the vacation photos with the whole family, Bryce was never in them. He always took the picture, he was always behind the camera.

"Alice! Honey! I'm home," Mom called from downstairs. I never thought of that. We were all A's. Mom was Alyssa, Dad was Alfred, Adrian and Alice... and then, Bryce. All blond hair and blue eyes, except for Bryce.

"Hey Mom!" I ran out and hugged her, all thoughts of Bryce squeezed out of my mind as Mom wrapped me into her arms.

"Oh honey, it's good to see you!"

We chatted and talked as Mom made dinner; spaghetti and salad and garlic bread. Dad came home his usual self. No one ever spoke to my father right when he got home. He needed time to decompress. I don't think he actually liked his job. He was a human resource manager. Days when he had to fire someone were worse. But we all knew, don't talk to Dad until he changes clothes and comes out of the bedroom. It only took twenty minutes tonight.

"Hey sweetie," he said, giving me a hug and kissing me on my forehead. He headed for the refrigerator.

"Dinner in ten, hon," Mom said.

Dad closed the fridge, hearing the warning in Mom's voice.

We sat around the table, Mom, Dad, and I, talking about what had been going on in our lives for the past few months. I told them about being accepted into Dr. Campeau's class. They were ecstatic. They knew how much I wanted into that program.

Bryce walked by the dining room, headed for the front door.

"Bryce, aren't you going to join us," I asked him.

He stopped and looked over at me, rolled his eyes and kept going, letting the closing front door answer for him. I looked at Mom and Dad, waiting for them to go and say something to him. They both had mouthfuls of spaghetti and were acting like nothing was wrong. 'The Hell?' I thought. Adrian and I would have never gotten away with something like that. Mom and Dad were all about family time.

"So he really screams out of the window," Dad asked me, like nothing had happened. Like Bryce hadn't just skipped out of a family dinner.

We spent the rest of dinner talking about my classes and my friends at college. When we sat down in the living room I asked them, smiling, "So, where's Bryce going to attend?"

"Oh, you know him. He'll let us know when he's decided," Mom said.

What! No! Hell no! Adrian and I both had full rides to Grand, but even if we didn't, we were still going there. Both Mom and Dad went to Grand, and they were hell bent on their children going there. We use to visit the campus every two years! Crazy caped professor or no, I always knew where I was going. How the hell did Bryce get a choice?

We talked for a few more minutes, but my heart wasn't in it anymore, and my mind was far from focused. I made my excuses and went to my room to lie down. As hard as I tried though, I couldn't sleep. Just looking at my walls, I could follow my whole life story on these walls. It was written in pictures and posters. Beautiful girl from a beautiful family grows ups to a beautiful life. I knew who my superheroes were, who my idols where, how my taste in music and fashion changed over the years. I knew who my friends were, and how they had changed.

22 years of my family's history was written on these walls, except, in these pictures, on these walls, my family only had 2 children.

I thought about Bryce's room. It was so cold, so dispassionate. A total lack of personality.

Damn it! There was something I was missing here, something I was too close to see. I needed Adrian. I needed him to distract me from my problems, take me out of myself. And I missed him. I missed the sound of his breathing, the feel of his heartbeat, the tightness of his arms around me. I needed someone to argue with me and show me I wasn't as smart as I thought I was.

I woke up in the middle of the night when I heard the front door slam. I turned and looked at the clock, 2:24. I got out of the bed and put on my robe. As I opened the door, I was just in time to see Bryce turning down the hallway. He was drunk. He was barely 18, who the hell let him drink, and where the hell were Mom and Dad?! They had to have heard the door!

"Bryce, let me-"

"Get the hell off me!" He pushed me away as I tried to guide him. He turned around before he closed the door. "The fuck is wrong with you," he asked as he looked at me.

His door closed and I stood there as I heard him fall into his bed. I bet myself $20 that the room would be immaculately clean by the time he came out of it tomorrow.

===Lynn===

He wasn't himself tonight. Too worried about Jose's wife to have a good time. As always, he was on time and waiting for us when we got to the club. Bryce was always looking for a reason to get out of his house.

He was sitting at a booth when Dave, me, and the rest of the crew walked in. I could see the way he looked down into his beer, and the way the waitress kept watching him, he had long ago threatened her to keep his mug filled. He was always like this, always shocked at how violent he could be. Hell, the first time he beat the shit out of someone, I was shocked too. I always knew he had it in him, but I didn't think it would be so violent. Once he saw blood, he had to see more. And more. And more.

I scooted into the booth and sat on his lap, kissing him hello. Nothing made Bryce feel better than being close to someone. Unfortunately, someone could be anyone. So I worked pretty hard to make sure the closest person to him was me. Especially after he started spilling his guts to some random bitch waitress three months ago, just because she was friendly with him. She caught him while I was busy fucking Caleb. Bryce was definitely high maintenance, but he was worth it.

I smiled as I watched everyone move away from our tables. No one wanted to be around the Bad Lads. I tore my tongue out of Bryce's mouth.

"Bring us some chili fries, a beer for me, and a refill for my BOYFRIEND," I told the hussy. Emphasis on the "boyfriend" for her benefit.

Tonight was a good night. Jose paid us back. But that wasn't enough for Dave. He told Jose that he wanted more, and if Jose didn't give him more, Bryce would be back for a visit. No one wants a visit from Bryce anymore. I smiled to myself; especially not Jose's wife. Bitch wasn't so cute now, was she?

I let Bryce finish a few drinks before I pulled him onto the floor. We danced a few songs, mostly because I'm a creature of motion and I made him. Bryce swayed side to side, while I danced around him. I kept his mind moving, kept him drinking, kept him from focusing on what he had done. Bryce could be so introverted sometimes!

Plus, I had to keep him away from our sweet, little waitress with the tight pussy. No one was taking him from me. I loved Bryce. I knew how to use him. And I was the only woman who deserved to have him.

"I need to go to the restroom," I said to the table. I grabbed Bryce by his hand and pulled him along with me. Other women saw me coming and got out of line to go back to their tables. That's what Bryce had done for us. He made people respect us.

I pulled him into the bathroom and dropped to my knees. I undid his belt and slid is pants and underwear to his knees. His cock was already hard and waving at me as I took him into my mouth. I didn't waste time with foreplay. I sucked him hard and deep. I took him as far as I could, always reaching for that last inch. I used my hand and played with his balls.

I looked up, looked into his eyes. I loved seeing the look in them as he swam in pleasure. I popped his cock out of my mouth and started licking his balls. I licked up from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling my tongue around the head before taking him in my mouth again. I sucked him down the base of his cock, licking at the underside as I went.

I smiled as I felt his balls tighten. His head tilted back and I heard him moan. I loved sucking him. I felt his cock harden as it forced out his semen. The first shot went right down my throat. I pulled back until it was just the head in my mouth. Spurt after spurt covered my tongue as he came. I swallowed and went back for more, making sure I got it all. I sucked him until he went soft.

I smiled as I looked up at him from the bathroom floor. "I know how to take care of my man," I said as I tucked him back into his pants.

"You sure do, babe," he said. He pulled me up and kissed me, his tongue danced inside my mouth. He never flinched from tasting himself. It was one of the things I liked about him. I felt his hands on my ass, slowly pulling up my skirt, and then slipping into my panties.

I pushed him away, just enough to look at him. "Don't start what you can't finish."

He smiled at me, "Fine. Back to the party then, and rain check on the real fun?"

"Let's go."

We went back into the bar. Dave and the rest of the crew didn't say anything. If I wanted to suck Bryce's dick in the middle of the street no one would say anything. Unless they wanted to meet Bryce in a dark alley. And no one wanted that. I got him good and drunk before I sent him home. The last thing I needed was for Bryce to suddenly decide to grow a conscience.

"So..." Dave asked.

"Don't worry, he'll stand tall. Just like he always does."

"We need to get him bloodied up."

I hated to admit it, but Dave was right. Bryce needed to do his first murder and get that shit behind him. If he was going to be a soldier, he needed to put in the work. "He will... when the time is right." I got up and walked out to the car. Dave could ride back with one of the boys.

Driving was my thinking time. I thought about Bryce, about the gang, about our future. Bryce wasn't ready for that yet. He wasn't ready to do his first kill. He needed to get past this bullshit with Jose's wife before we put a gun in his hand.

Still, it wasn't like he wasn't already standing tall for us. He soldiered up and handled business. Honestly, Dave needed to shut the fuck up and leave Bryce to me. It wasn't like this gang shit was our future. Bryce was going to college. After he graduated, we'd get married, and that would be that.

We'd be all big house and picket fence during the week, and Bryce could be a weekend soldier. He'd use his degree to help the gang out. Dave just wasn't thinking big enough. You didn't need to be slinging on the corner to be down.

===Alice===

It was noon, and he was still in his room. Damn it. I wanted to get in there, to get back into that closet. I was convinced that there was something in there he didn't want me to find, and it wasn't just a dark wardrobe.

I was sitting on the couch with my Psychology book, studying the chapters for the next semester. The TV was on, providing me the background noise that I needed, and I had a diet Pepsi sitting on the coffee table. It was my perfect study nest. Except for the fact I kept waiting for Bryce to go to school.

It was a freaking Thursday! Why the hell wasn't he in class!

I was taking notes on anxiety disorders when Bryce finally walked through the living room. He was wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans. "Bout time," I said. "You know you've missed all your morning classes right?"

He stopped and looked over at me, and then kept walking without saying anything. I watched him walk out the door without another look at me.

I sighed. Connecting with my little brother was going to be harder than I thought if he wouldn't even talk to me. I pretended to study for another ten minutes. Mostly for my own benefit as I tried to tell myself I wouldn't invade his privacy. Again.

I lied.

I sat my book aside and headed to his room. I was right. It was pristine. I walked into his closet and started looking around. I searched inside his shoes, thinking he might be hiding something in an old pair of sneakers. Nothing. I ran my hand over the top shelf. Nothing. I went and got a step ladder and looked up there. Yeah, nothing. I started to move his clothes around. I knew there was something in here!

Nothing.

I went flopped down on his bed. The hell! I was sure something was in there! He was so worried about me being in there last night. Maybe he took whatever it was he didn't want me finding with him. But he didn't have a backpack. 'It could have been drugs,' I thought.

No, my brother wouldn't be on drugs. I sat up and looked into the closet again. Then I saw something.

A thin line in the wall, except, it shouldn't be there. Not in the middle of the wall. I went and moved all the jeans out of the way. It was a seam. It went all the way around, making a 2x4 rectangle. I slipped my fingernails into the seam and pulled. The piece swung open on hidden hinges. Bryce's secret door had finally given way. And what was he hiding?

Books. I pulled one out and opened it up. No. Journals. Oh yes! Journals! There were seven of them, filled with Bryce's personal thoughts and feelings! Yay! I took the first one out and closed the door. Then I reshuffled his clothes, trying to make them look like they did before I rifled through his closet. I took the journal, closed the door, and ran into my room. I slammed the door and fell onto my bed, excited to dig into my baby brother's mind.

I opened it to the first page. It was dated. This was eight years ago. He would have been in sixth grade then. I started to read.

"I can't believe it. I really thought this would be different. But, of course, they've already beaten me here too. They even have their pictures hung up in the trophy case! I hate them. How am I supposed to live up to that? They're just soooooo perfect. All my teachers are so excited to have a Brunson in their class again. Well screw them! I'm not trying to be Al or Adrian. Can you believe they actually call that cocky punk Adonis!? The teachers even call him that! And, apparently, she's 4.0 Alice. The Beauty and the Brain. And it's too late for me to make that bar, they checked. I made a B in first grade. Yeah. So that's what I have to look forward to. More of the constant comparison to my older siblings."

That was kind of depressing me, so I flipped forward. The next page was completely blacked out and he had written in white ink. 'This could be interesting,' I thought.

"I've finally been given some good advice. I tried out for football today, and the coach wants me to be a running back. I told him that I had to be quarterback because Adrian is quarterback. But he told me that I wasn't Adrian and I shouldn't try to be. So, I've decided I'm not going to play. I mean, I don't even like sports. Coach Atkins was right. I was trying to be like Adrian. By the way, he called him 'Adonis'. So I really don't want to play for him. As far as I'm concerned, Adrian can go to hell. I'm not going to be anything like him or Alice. I'm just going to be me. And if people don't like that, then fuck them!"

Oh my! I never knew he felt like that about either of us. I never knew he had to deal with that. Why didn't he tell me? I'm sure I could have helped or done something. I flipped through the book. He had blacked out that page, so I figured that the black pages were the ones that were important to him. I really wanted to see those. The next one was towards the end.