Barely Breathing

"Okay," I breathed, my thoughts reeling. Something he said left me unsettled. I paused a moment to reflect, and then it occurred to me, "Wait. How did they have your print on file to match it?"

Jonathan's face dropped. When I peered into his dark eyes, I saw a vulnerability that made my heart ache.

"Jonathan, what did you do?" I asked fretfully, not taking my eyes off him.

"Emma, I've wanted to tell you," he began, running his hands through his hair, "but I was waiting until I knew you could handle it. Since I can barely live with myself, I was afraid you would..."

"What?" I begged. "Please, just tell me."

The distress in his eyes made my pulse thrum.

He stood up and began pacing in front of me, rubbing his hands together. I watched him anxiously. For a moment, I thought he wasn't going to speak, but then he stopped in front of the window. "They took my prints after the fire."

My eyes flinched in confusion. Then my mouth dropped. "No," I gasped, forcing him to face me.

"You have to understand. They weren't supposed be home. They were at a basketball tournament, but Ryan got sick. I thought my father was home alone.” He absorbed the shocked look on my face. I couldn't utter a sound, horrified. Jonathan quickly looked away and began pacing again.

"When I moved away to college, my father took everything out on Ryan. I couldn't let that happen. He wasn't as strong as me. I needed to protect him."

"They were your family," I breathed in abhorrence. Jonathan stopped mid-step. "How could―” I shook my head, with the words stuck in my throat. Tears filled my eyes as the black skeletal remains of the house invaded my thoughts. My stomach turned to ice, imagining their screams as they desperately tried to get out.

"You can't hate me anymore than I hate myself." I looked up at his glassy eyes. Their tortured depths made my lip quiver. "They weren't supposed to be there," he repeated, consumed in grief. "I'll never forgive myself. But I want you to know everything, to know the truth." Jonathan bowed his head and pushed his palms into his eyes.

I closed my eyes, trying to understand what could've driven him to want to murder his own father. Then I recalled the twinge of envy I’d felt when he'd revealed that his father was dead, and how I'd wished that upon Carol. But I could never bring myself to do it. To kill her. Could I?

Then again, didn't I just cry on his shoulder, wishing my own mother was dead? After encouraging her to end her misery with a bottle of pills? How different was I, really? Just because they weren't dead, didn't make me wish it any less.

"I don't know what to think," I told him honestly, running my hand across my forehead with my eyes squeezed shut, a tear escaping down my cheek.

"I know," he exhaled heavily. "It's a lot and I'm sorry."

My head snapped up at the sound of the screen door slamming shut.

Evan looked from Jonathan to me. "What's going on?" I brushed away the tear. His eyes flickered in confusion then alarm. "What did you do to her?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Jonathan stood in front of me before I could utter a word.

"This has nothing to do with you, Evan," Jonathan explained. His voice was low, and it sliced with warning. "You're not a part of every moment of her life."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Evan demanded in the same tone.

"Jonathan, don't," I begged, fearful of what he would say next.

"Did something happen to Rachel?" Evan inquired, keeping his eyes on Jonathan without a glance in my direction.

"No," Jonathan laughed humorlessly. "This is between me and Emma. You're not the only one she confides in. You don't need to know everything."

I’d opened my mouth to intercept the conversation when Evan returned with, "And she confides in you?"

"She does," Jonathan explained simply.

"Evan," I called to him in a rush, needing to ease the suspicion that gleamed in his eyes.

"No, I want to hear this," he interjected sharply. His harsh tone drove me back a step.

"Yeah, she tells me things that you wouldn't understand," Jonathan explained coolly.

"Please don't do this," I beseeched, reaching for Jonathan's arm. But he moved toward Evan, blocking my path. I was drowning in desperation, but neither of them responded to my pleas.

"What does she trust you with? What wouldn't I understand?" Evan inquired, clenching his jaw. Jonathan stepped over the threshold into the foyer. I tried to position myself next to him, to calm the growing tension that hummed between them, but it was as if I were invisible. My heart pounded against my chest.

"Don't worry about it," Jonathan returned cockily. "As I said, this has nothing to do with you."

Jonathan's arrogance was grating under Evan’s skin, and the taught muscles along his arms made it evident.

"Evan, I can explain," I interjected passionately.

"I'd rather hear it from him," he replied coolly, making my stomach flip.

Jonathan produced a snide grin. "You really want to torture yourself, huh? Just let it be. I'm not taking her away from you or anything."

"Then what is it? What is it about you that makes her want to tell you things she can't tell me?"

Jonathan shrugged dismissively. "I get her in a way you never will. It's not your fault. You just don't understand. And I do."

Evan's shoulders drew back as if the words were razor sharp.

I knew Jonathan was walking along a dangerous line, but neither of them would listen to me. I couldn’t keep him from pushing Evan over the edge.

"Jonathan, knock it off," I threatened without effect.

"I'm there for her when the nightmares wake her in the middle of the night. I'm the one she calls when she needs someone to confide in about Rachel. She reveals the secrets you can't handle because she trusts me. And she knows I will always be here to protect her."

I screamed out in surprise as Evan's fist collided with Jonathan's jaw, knocking Jonathan back a few steps. I quickly sidestepped him as he stumbled for balance.

"You don't know anything about protecting her," Evan seethed. Jonathan straightened, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A streak of blood stained his skin.

In a sudden movement, Jonathan charged Evan, ramming him against the wall. The house shook around us, vehemently protesting the attack.

"Don't!" I yelled, rushing toward them. The violent exchange mounted as they grappled and threw each other around the foyer. Guttural groans escaped with each punch thrown. Blood spattered their faces.

I couldn't find a way to get between them. Their movements were so quick. They were incognizant of my presence, and I could easily have been swept up in the brawl. I begged for them to stop over and over again, but they showed no signs of relenting.

My entire body shook as I shuffled around them, desperate for their attention. My cheeks were slick with tears as I fought to breathe. Each punch thrust directly into me, bludgeoning my heart.

I knew I'd done this. I'd created the tension between them that had erupted into this moment. Their anger and frustration had nothing to do with the person they were fighting. It had everything to do with me, and what I couldn't give them. Which was all of me. I felt my insides implode with the collision of their weight against the rumbling walls.

I caught a glimpse of Evan's face and drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the gash above his right eye, blood trailing down his face. I couldn't stand to remain inept anymore.

"Jonathan, don't!" I commanded loudly, grabbing for his arm. Impervious to my presence, he jabbed his elbow back and collided with my jaw, sending me sailing back. Unable to keep my balance, I collapsed with a cry.

Evan redirected his attention to my stunned face just as I landed on the floor. "Emma!"

The distraction left him open to a vicious blow to the temple.

"No!" I screamed, my voice echoing through the house. Evan's eyes left me and tilted back as his head lolled to the side like a ragdoll. He crashed against the wall and Jonathan pinned him upright, catapulting a ferocious blow to the side of his face.

I scrambled to my feet, driven by the adrenaline that accelerated through me. I squeezed in front of Evan and closed my eyes, bracing for the pain of his crushing fist. My whole body tensed, pressed against Evan's slouched form.

Nothing happened.

Evan started to slide and I quickly turned toward him, attempting to ease him to the floor. But his dead weight was too much for me to support, and he toppled over with a reverberating thump, his head bouncing against the wood.

I collapsed beside him, my chest shook with jagged breaths. "Evan!" I bent over him to examine his bruised and bloodied face. "Evan, can you hear me?"

I tried to reposition him, sliding him from his awkward angle against the wall, struggling to turn him on his back.

"Let me take a look," Jonathan said from beside me. He bent down and grabbed Evan's shoulders to lay him flat.

"Don't touch him!" I shouted, bowing over Evan's body as if to shield him. "You don't get to touch him!"

"Emma." His voice sounded pained. He placed his hand on my back. I thrust against him forcefully, causing him pull away with a jerk.

"Don't you dare," I threatened. My muscles quaked, fueled with rage. My eyes bored into him.

"Emma, please," he begged, his voice breaking with emotion. "I lost it. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

"No you're not," I bit back. "Don't even say it. This is what you do. This is what we do. We hurt people." I choked on the words, forcing them out of my mouth.

The tendons along my neck strained as I screamed, "Look what we've done!" Jonathan flinched. I hunched over Evan with a sob and gasped, "We've hurt so many people." I sniffled and gently caressed his bruised cheek. Evan remained still under my touch.

"Don't say that," Jonathan implored, his words coated with desperation. "We're the ones who've been hurt, Emma."

I released a vicious laugh. "No, Jonathan. We're just as bad as they are, with our lies and deceit. We destroy people's lives."

Jonathan opened his mouth to stop me, but I pierced him with my vile tongue. "And you. You've killed people. You're not any less of a monster than your father."

Jonathan's face turned ashen as he released a strangled gasp, like he'd been stabbed through the heart.

"It was anger and pain that drew us together. That's our bond. Not love." My words shot out with lethal force, ripping his protests from his opened mouth. "I don't love you." His eyes flit across mine, begging me to stop―but I continued, relentless. "No one could ever love you." Jonathan's chest caved. He took several staggering steps before faltering to his knees, his confidence decimated.

Loathing corroded my veins and shriveled my heart. I watched as he cowered under my words, relishing his silent torture. "Don't wait for me. I don't want you to be there for me, not ever. Stay out of my life, and I won't breathe a word about what you've done." Jonathan closed his glassy eyes and bowed his head, clutching his chest.

I turned my back to him, unable to continue to bear witness to his devastation. I hid my shame behind my lids, tears continued to cascade down my face, dripping from my chin. My words wielded as much destruction as Jonathan's fists, tearing people apart with my lies and secrets, unleashing a verbal wrath that could alter a person's conviction. I wasn't worthy of being loved any more than he was.