Infinitely by Cheryl McIntyre
The silence stretches between us, weighing the air down until I’m suffocating in his indecision. He looks away, his eyes dancing across the room, looking everywhere but in my direction. He sniffs quickly, shifting from one foot to the other.
“Oxycontin,” he finally says.
Oxycontin. That’s not what I was expecting. Isn’t that for pain? I drop my head, my eyes burning a spot into the floor. Oxycontin?
I was expecting something crazy, like coke or heroin.
“How bad will this get?” Oxycontin is a medicine, right? I mean, it shouldn’t be too hard to stop taking it.
His dark laughter grabs my attention, bringing all my focus back to him. He extends his arms out at his sides and shakes his head. “This is nothing. This is the best of it.”
Dread washes over me. A shiver causes my body to tremble. I have no idea how to respond or if I even should. One big, long, horrible nightmare. That’s what this is. I wished for him to come back for so long and this is what I get.
What a fucking joke. Well played, Fate. Well played.
“Are we done?” he asks, his voice rough, agitated. “Can I go now?”
I take a step back and gesture at my door. As much as I wish I could help him, I don’t know how—especially when he so clearly doesn’t want my help.
He pushes off the wall, moving past me. I reach out my hand, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. He flinches and I notice the way his pulse is hammering under his skin.
“I wish I could take this all away,” I breathe.
His eyes, wide and dark, peer at me with confusion. “But you can’t.” He removes my hand and slips out the door before the heaviness of his words settles on my shoulders.
~*~
It’s clear pretty quickly that Mom and Dad were previously aware of Benji’s condition. They don’t bother to react in any way as I repeat what he told me. I expect them to gasp in shock or bombard me with questions I don’t have the answers to. But I get nothing, which pisses me off.
Actually, the longer we sit around the table eating our sandwiches and fruit like all is right with the world, the more infuriated I get. They knew and they didn’t tell me. How long? How long have they known? Did they just find out? Or have they known all along? Were they privy to his whereabouts all these years as well? Am I the only one that was left in the dark?
I pick up a grape and eat it. Then another. When I pick up the third, my dad finally speaks.
“A lot’s happened in a short amount of time. We’re all still processing everything. The pain medication knocked you out for most of the day yesterday, but we planned on telling you. We also wanted to give Benji the opportunity to talk to you first.”
I scrape my chair back, taking my plate to the sink. “Well, he told me.” Without another word, I walk out the back door. I need a minute to myself. I need to think. I need to breathe. I need the last twenty-four hours to rewind.
Kingston whinnies a hello and I take apples to him and Grace. Even though most people think it’s disgusting, there’s something calming about a horse slobbering an apple out of my hand. Like they don’t have any worries. They could care less that they’re being gross or offensive. They’re just being horses, using their basic animal instincts. Kingston isn’t embarrassed, or self-conscious, or anything like that. He just wants to eat an apple.
As I’m running my fingers through my horse’s silky mane, it dawns on me that I have no right to feel any anger. Flynn’s lost everything. Everything. Benji’s…sick. Addiction is a disease. He and Jax lost their mom and could lose so much more. My parents lost their friends.
I’m so scared for my friends and family, and I feel completely helpless. I haven’t the slimmest idea of what I can do to make any of this better.
I don’t go back inside. Instead, I go out to the field because at least I’m useful there. There’s no helplessness in a cornfield.
There’s corn. Two thousand square yards of corn, to be exact.
I reach up to grab a tassel and nearly scream. I had forgotten about my injured ribcage. I press my fingers against my side and keep going, pushing myself, until Mom comes to join me.
“Briar, I need you to go inside.” I glance over at her, but grab the next stalk. “Just until we have something figured out. It doesn’t feel safe, you out in the open like this.”
“I want to help.” I sigh in frustration. “I need to help. And this is the only way I know how right now.”
Mom watches me for a moment. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, Briar. And I think we all understand at this point anything—” She nearly chokes on the word. “Anything is possible. Go inside, now. Please.”
It’s not just what she says that scares me, it’s the fear in her eyes, and the fact I know she’s right.
I lean in and hug my mom because sometimes, a girl just needs her mommy. And then I go inside like she asked.
~*~
I’m washing lunch dishes when I hear a car pull up out front. I switch the water off and dry my hands on the way to the front door, bringing the dish towel with me. Outside, Dad meets a uniformed police officer at the porch. I lean against the wall, out of view, and peer through a crack in the blinds.
“How ya doin’ today, Corbin?”
“I’m doing all right, Jim. How about yourself?” Dad replies as he offers his hand. They shake and all I can do is stand frozen, watching, and hoping Jim isn’t one of the men on that Delphi guy’s payroll.
“Not too well, actually. Have you heard about the Amoses?”
“Yes,” Dad answers. “My daughter was dating Flynn. It’s a damn shame.”
Officer Jim nods. “Sure is.” He massages his forehead, his movements slow, as if he’s exhausted.
“Has he been around? Flynn?”
“No. I thought—wasn’t he killed in the fire?”
Jim steps closer to Dad, lowering his voice. “Bodies haven’t been identified yet. There were only two. One male. One female. Somebody’s missing.”
Dad doesn’t reply, but I notice the way his shoulders have tightened with tension. We knew it would come out. I think he was just hoping we had more time.
“Have you seen anybody that doesn’t belong? Heard anybody talking?”
My dad shakes his head apologetically. “No—nothing out of the ordinary. I wish I could help.”
“What about your girl? Briar heard from him? Sometimes these kids…they think they’re helping by covering for their friends.”
“No. I’m positive. They broke up a couple of days before. He hasn’t been around since.”
Jim jots something down in his little notepad. “We’ve got nothing right now. Nobody saw a thing. They didn’t have any enemies. I always thought the family got along well. Nobody expected something like this. It doesn’t make sense.” He sighs. “Just keep your eyes and ears open.”
“Will do.” Dad claps Jim on the shoulder. “Let me know if I can do anything else.”
Jim nods again. He turns to leave, but pauses, and pivots back to Dad. “And Corbin?”
“Yeah?”
“Keep your doors and windows locked up tight. That boy shows up, call it in right away.”
~*~
By dinner, Flynn is out of bed and sitting in a chair. I’m not an expert on bullet wounds, but this seems too soon. It’s so good to see him doing better, so I don’t say anything about it. Benji checks his bandage and says it looks good. And then he goes straight home. It’s just Mom, Dad, Flynn, and me.
The four of us eat dinner together. Mom cuts Flynn’s chicken, which I can tell makes him uncomfortable, but he thanks her and continues eating. And really, the whole thing is uncomfortable. Nobody talks about what happened or what will happen next, avoiding the subject all together, and I think it makes our awkward dinner that much more…awkward. But then it’s over and Mom and I are washing dishes. I keep glancing up at Benji’s window. I don’t know what I expect to see, but I continue watching anyway.
I want to go rid
He stares out into the field and I’m pretty sure he’s thinking about his parents. I put my hand over his and lean into his arm a little. He sighs and intertwines our fingers. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
I have to think about this for several seconds because he doesn’t say it like I was one of the people that dragged him from a fire. He says it like if I didn’t live here then he would not currently be residing here, either. And that makes my stomach hurt. I swallow what feels like a gigantic rock.
“Flynn,” I say, my voice shaking over the one word.
“You’re all I have left.” He gazes down at me, squeezing my fingers. “I know we broke up, but I need you.”
I squeeze his hand back and rest my head on his upper arm. “I’m here.”
“Where do you think my parents are?” he asks after a silent minute. “I hate the idea of them being nowhere.”
I swallow another rock. I have no idea what to say. My grandpa had told me once that religion was invented because people couldn’t deal with death. They needed to think their loved ones lived on in another world. He never believed in God and Heaven.
I have no idea what I believe, but the thought of there being nothing more out there is terrifying. “I don’t know,” I confess.
“I can’t believe they’re dead.” He stumbles over the last word, his voice low and raspy. “I can’t believe they’re gone.”
He does that thing again, that way he has of making a sentence sound like it has a different, more significant meaning. I can’t tell if he’s saying he’s having a hard time accepting they aren’t alive or if he’s hoping that a part of them remain, continuing on in the afterlife. As I process my thoughts, I decide he probably means both. My heart hurts for him. My chest feels tight and tears sting my eyes. I slide my arm under his, hugging his bicep to me.
We don’t talk anymore. We watch the sunset until the bugs start biting and we’re forced to go inside. Flynn’s reached his limit for the day so I help him back to bed. He takes one of those crazy pain pills Benji gave me while I check his bandage.
I tell him good night and go to my room so I can look at Benji’s window again. I know, I’m pathetic. I change into some comfortable pajamas and tug the blanket down. The first thing I notice as I lie in bed is Benji’s blinds are open. The second thing makes my heart skip an actual beat. A pink belladonna lily is clipped to the clothesline. I’m frozen, staring at it because lilies are my favorite flowers. A memory surfaces, taking me by surprise.
Benji and I were sitting on the porch after school, reading our library books. He had picked a book about dinosaurs. Mine was about flowers because Mom wanted to start a small garden. As I leafed through the pages, one flower caught my eye. The belladonna lily. The petals were pointed, giving it the appearance of a star. And even though the tips pointed sharply, the petals themselves appeared to be soft and smooth. Something about the contrast captivated me. Benji liked what the name meant. “Beauty or beautiful lady,” he read aloud. “Like sleeping beauty. Like you, Briar.”
I showed Mom, but apparently belladonna lilies were expensive. We planted tulips instead.
I push the screen up and very gently unhook the flower. I run my fingers over the petals then bring it to my nose, inhaling deeply.
This is how I remember Benji.
18
Benji
I push my fists against my eyes and groan. It’s like each day keeps repeating with Megan. Except she seems to be getting worse. I give her three pills and within a couple hours, she’s losing her shit, begging for more.
I can’t take it.
I don’t know why I’m sticking with this. She doesn’t want it. And it doesn’t matter anymore if I want it. My whole reason for cleaning up was for Briar.
I have no reason now.
In a couple of days, I’ll be gone. She’ll be nothing more than a memory I’ll want to forget. So why not give in? Why not just let myself go?
I look at Megan crawling across the bed toward me. I could get lost with her today. We could get stoned and spend the afternoon fucking like rabbits. She pauses when she sees me watching her. With slow determination, she rises up on her knees and glides her shirt over her head, baring her naked breasts for me to see. Her fingertips skim down her stomach and my eyes follow the trail. She slips her hand into her panties, touching herself with a soft moan.
I keep watching as she slides her hand out, gliding it up to her breast, leaving a path of sticky moisture in its wake. She circles a finger around her nipple, making it shimmer with her dampness. I want to close my mouth around her tit and lick it off. I could lavish her body and forget about everything else.
I could do this.
But I don’t want to.
I want to, but I don’t want to.
What I want is to spend what little time I have left with Briar. I’ll never have this chance again.
“Please Benji,” Megan breathes. “We can have so much fun.”
“We need to stick with it,” I say. There’s no fortitude to my words because I know she doesn’t believe them. Hell, I barely believe them myself.
“You’re so stressed. You need to loosen up.” She grips my thigh and I push her hand away, standing up.
“I need to get out of here.”
Megan’s on me before I have time to react. She unhooks the button on my jeans, tugging the zipper down. Her hand works inside, gripping me. “Please, baby. I’ll make you feel so good.” Her hand tightens around my dick, pumping. I harden immediately. She bites her lip, her eyes bright with satisfaction.
She feels good. So damn good. I buck against her hand, wanting more. I want to get off. I need to. It’ll clear my mind. Help me think. I close my eyes, moaning deep within my throat.
Megan slows in response. “If you give me what I want, I’ll give you what you want.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
It’s like a jolt of electricity, zapping my desire. I pry her fingers loose and step back, tucking myself back into my pants. “You can’t give me what I want,” I say, my voice hoarse.
I pluck my shirt off the end of the bed and throw the door open. I know I should be nicer to her. She agreed to come along with me to try to make things right. Not that she had a better option. But we both know I need her more than she needs me.
There will be plenty of time to be nice to her later. Right now I’m too pissed off. I’m jonesing. I’m horny. And I’m fucking tired.
The only person I want to be around at the moment is Briar.
19
Briar
I’m sitting on a bale of hay, instructing Kameron on the fine art of stall mucking. It’s the only possible perk of bruised ribs.
“You do this every day?” Kam asks. She straightens up and rubs sweat from her forehead. “It’s so gross.” I’m pretty sure she’s well aware I do this every day. Just because her dad’s never made her do this before, doesn’t mean she’s clueless to its need.
I lift a brow in response. And then roll my eyes at the dramatic way she steps through the hay, tiptoeing carefully as if avoiding horse shit is even an option at the moment. I chuckle, regretting it immediately when pain shoots through my side.
The rake pauses two feet from the ground, Kam going completely still for several seconds. Finally, when she knows I’m okay, she blows hair out of her face and says, “You are so lucky to have such a good best friend.” She smirks at me. “The things I’m willing to do for you.”
I push myself up and rest my arms on the half door, my chin on t
After carefully propping the rake against the wall, she turns to look at me. Before she has the opportunity to respond, I notice the familiar crackling of tires over our graveled driveway. I turn my head, listening, as the low rumbling grows louder. The car pulls to a stop outside the barn and I peer around the open door to see who it is.
And then my breath catches in my throat.
One of the dark police cars from the other day is sitting in my driveway.
Shit.
Shit.
Why are they here? Are they here for Flynn? They must have found out by now that it wasn’t his body in the barn with his mom. Or are they here for Benji and Jax? I turn to Kam, pulling her to me.
“Go out the back,” I whisper quickly. “Go around the houses and in the back door. Get Flynn out. Hide him in the field.” I push her, but she hesitates.
“What the hell’s going on?”
I raise a finger to my lips, gesturing for her to be quiet.
“I think those are the bastards that killed Flynn’s parents.” My shoulders twitch with alarm as the words leave my mouth. This can’t be happening. Not again.
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” she chants under her breath.
I squeeze her hand, trying to calm her down, or trying to calm myself. I’m not sure which. “Kameron. Shit. Go. Go now.” I shove her toward the back door and press my lips together to keep from screaming. I don’t know what to do, but I know I need to keep them the fuck away from my house.
I brush my hair back, smoothing it behind my ears, and step out of the barn. My hands are shaking. I squeeze them into fists. The driver’s side door opens slowly and I gasp as a man steps out. He isn’t wearing a uniform—he didn’t the other day, either, but I know him immediately. I could never forget his face. The man who shot Flynn in the back.