LOGINCADENWith bags of groceries in my arms (we haven’t had a homemade meal for quite a long time), I walk into the quiet, dim apartment.It smells of coffee, flowers, and a mixture of detergents.I manage to slip my foot out of my army boots when Mad emerges from the bathroom, running over to wrap her hands around my waist.She’s happy, just as she has been ever since we became official. Not to sound like a psycho, but her happiness is the highlight of my life.“I missed you,” she whines into my chest, clutching me tighter, not caring about the bags in my hands.Today was the first time I left home since we came back from our unfortunate trip.I spent half the day choosing a replacement car and the other half getting trained for my new intern job at a surprisingly well-paying government agency.It’s true, I sold the vehicle I was so attached to. After finally having human emotions, feeling something strong for Mad, and even a little for Martha through her speech, I realized the Porsche w
CADENMartha’s car is quiet, filled with the soft warmth of the heater. She looks like she wants to say something but keeps hesitating, twisting in her seat, unsure how to begin. Mad, meanwhile, doesn’t care about her mother’s presence. She’s turned toward me, her hands gripping mine, warm and steady, her eyes filled with concern. They remind me that I need to be okay for her.I try to bury what just happened, like I always do with other things. But this time… it doesn’t work. The memory refuses to stay locked away.She offers me a small, tentative smile that says she’s here, and it’ll be okay. I love her. I return the smile, squeezing her hand in response, and catch Martha peeking at us through the rearview mirror.I wonder what she thinks about Mad and me. I wish I could care about that too, but the car feels suffocating, the air heavy and tight, and I can’t breathe.“Can I have a minute?” I mumble. Martha peeks again, and Mad’s brows draw together in concern as she nods.“What do y
JUDEOnce upon a time, I wanted a son, not a daughter.As they say, we all need love in our lives. Some even believe it holds the largest proportion of human survival.It was stolen from me when my mother died, and I was forced to live with my stepfather, who held me hostage when I was only eleven and had nowhere to go but do as he say.There are certain memories that never fade, and mine are those days when that man would make me please him in ways we both knew were abusive and improper for a child, in exchange for food in my stomach and a roof over my head.The thing is, I only saw men as beasts.I mean, if you look at it the way I do, my father was the kind who used his belt to whip me until he was satisfied with the marks he left.And then I was raised by a child molester. A bisexual pedophile who was obsessed with liquor and baseball games on his fucked-up cathode-ray tube television.Those did it.The pain lived in me. It even pushed me to study hard in school and earn scholarsh
MADISON‘Marry me,’ he offered last night.I spent the night in his arms, wondering if he was intoxicated when he said those two words, or if I was officially insane, imagining things that included getting married to Caden Thaddeus.My legal stepbrother.A few days ago, no one knew Caden could offer a full night of commitment without tossing you out of his room or sneaking off somewhere else to spend the night.Yet today, he’s helping me pack up while he reminds me how I’ll have to live with his disorganized ass for the rest of my life.It’s obvious Caden is confident I’m going to say yes to his proposal.A part of me is too, but the other is uncertain of the real consequences.Not that I care what Dad will think, since we’re about to leave New York.There, it was a bit better than here, even though we were still known as a family.The thing is, I fell in love with Caden to the point where the earth isn’t enough. Forever seems so near. I want him more than I want life itself because I
CADENI’d get over the past if it were something that obeyed my command, like all the shitheads ready to worship me.But there are some things that won’t just fade away, and my stained past is one of those things.Even though I’m not desperate for change, it doesn’t mean I don’t fear for myself. Because I sure as hell do fear. Happiness is something my past has obscured, bringing only the darkest of days, and anyone as smart as Mad would know I’ve dwelled in them.Sometimes it terrifies me more than I can begin to put into words, like right now. Having Dad right around my fingers is like a longer slide on Poseidon’s Revenge ride. Thrilling at the beginning, but once you realize you won’t stop dipping and there’s no near end, you panic.My dad deserves a lot of karma bouncing back to him, but he doesn’t deserve me almost throttling him to death.I don’t want to be violent, but it seems that’s where I’m climbing these days. And I guess I reach the cliff today when I almost make my fathe
CADENNervous, my hands are stuck in my pants pockets while I watch Mad watch the view in front of us.For a moment she becomes very quiet, and it scares me.Then she gently takes two steps forward.Her shoulders tense as her hands move to her face, or was it her mouth? I can’t really say because I’m standing behind her.It takes her forever to spin, and when she does, she’s on the verge of tears.The fuck?Did I hurt her? Did I do something wrong? I knew I’d mess up, and I probably did, maybe I need to…“It’s so beautiful.” It’s almost a whisper, but it snaps me out of my thoughts, and her glossy eyes lock with my wide ones.There’s a tear sliding down her cheek when she steps toward me and leans against my chest.It’s then I process everything in detail. Sweet cheese, she likes it.Smiling, I feel her hands around my midsection. I don’t hesitate to snake my hands around her.“Hey,” I softly call into her hair.She slowly pulls away and uses the back of her hand to wipe away the tear







