Staring through the glass, I admire Brady playing his music. I sometimes wonder why he isn’t pursuing a career in that since it seems to calm him. In pajama pants and no shirt with his guitar resting in his lap, the burn of having him inside of me grows. He looks up, notices me, and waves me into the room.

“You should be sleeping, beautiful,” he says, continuing to strum a few chords.

“So should you.” I make my way over to him.

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Talk to me,” I request and he opens his arms, moving me between him and the guitar.

“How about I teach you?” He changes the subject and places my hands on the guitar.

“Brady,” I sigh, letting him place his hands over mine.

“Press this string and strum with this hand,” he instructs, ignoring my pleas to talk.

After a few chords, Brady starts to kiss the back of my neck and I feel his hard bulge on my back. I tip my head back, enjoying his lips and tongue on me. In turn, Brady props his guitar against the wall and his hands instantly plant themselves on each one of my breasts, massaging them. My hands rest on his firm thighs and I push my ass into his crotch, feeling his erection.

I continue to circle my hips while his hands roam up my tank top and pinch my nipples. I moan in bliss as Brady stands up, pushing me against the window. He slowly runs his hand down my back and then pulls my boxers down around my ankles.

When I try to step out of them, he says, “No baby, just like this.” He pulls my tank up, exposing my breasts. Then he lifts my arms, pressing my palms against the glass. I stand there with my back to him, sprawled across the glass panel with my shorts around my ankles and my shirt scrunched up around my neck.

“So fucking hot,” he whispers in my ear.

I have never seen this side of Brady, but I’m immensely enjoying it. I can feel how aroused I already am and I need him inside of me.

“I’m going to fuck you just like this, Sadie,” he states and I wait in anticipation.

“Please, Brady,” I plea.

He starts kissing my shoulder blades, making his way down my backside before coming back up. Placing his hands on my hips, he pulls me back into him. I feel his cock at my entrance and I relish the moment.

“Ready, baby?” he asks.

“Yes,” I desperately answer.

Before I can prepare myself, he is inside of me, thrusting into me deeper with every push. He’s never been rough like this, so I’m surprised what an arousing effect it has on me.

“You feel so fucking good,” he breathlessly speaks into my ear.

I moan as my body gets smashed against the glass and Brady reaches around, playing with my clit as I scream his name and roll over the edge. A second later, Brady pumps into me twice before he grabs my hips, holding them in place.

“Fuck, Sadie,” he shouts, stilling inside of me. Then he picks me up so I’m straddling him and throws our clothes in between our bodies. “Now I want you in my bed,” he whispers, kissing my lips.

His lips remain on mine while he carries me up the two flights of stairs. He places me in his bed, positioning me on top of him while his fingers flow through my hair. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” his shaky voice asks.

“No, of course not,” I answer and turn my head up to him as he cups my cheek with his hand.

“Good. You know how much I love you.” There are tears in his eyes.

“And I love you.” I smile up to him. I know what he is doing, I did it myself. If sex makes him forget, I will happily oblige, but eventually I will have to find a healthy way to help him deal with his dad.

I jolt awake with Brady’s body shifting under me. I glance at his clock and see it’s only been an hour since we fell asleep. “Shit! I’m on my way,” Brady says into the phone and climbs out of bed. I sit up, refusing to take a back seat any longer. He didn’t when it came to my issues and I won’t when it comes to his.

“Let me get dressed,” I say, swinging my legs over the bed, ready to get out when he steps toward me.

“No, Sadie, I’ll be right back.” He keeps his hand on my shoulder, keeping me on the bed but I stand up.

“It’s not a choice, Brady, I’m coming.” I get up from the bed and grab my yoga pants and sweatshirt.

“You don’t need to see this,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. “Please,” he begs.

I walk over to him and place my hand in his. “They were your words, Brady. You said you would never let go, but I feel you slipping away. Every night you disappear and every night I find you downstairs. And every day when I wake up to your sad eyes, we slowly become more disconnected.” I lean in closer. “You have to let me in, Brady.”

“It’s pathetic and sad, Sadie. He isn’t the man you know on these nights.” He puts his head down, staring at the ground.

“Brady, what are you afraid of?” I question, bending down to meet his eyes.

“That you can’t handle it…” he admits.

“And what?” I pry.

“You’ll leave,” he says, finally divulging the whole truth. I can work with this.

“Did you leave me?” I ask him back and he shakes his head. “No, and I’m not going to leave you,” I tell him. I grab his hand, “Let’s go.” I lead us out of the room.

Brady doesn’t say anything on our way out to the car but keeps my hand in his.

We pull up to the police station and an officer walks up to the car before we can even get out, informing Brady that they had to send Vince to the hospital for what they believe is alcohol poisoning. On the drive to the hospital, Brady calls Maura to let her know and she says she is on her way.

He parks in the visitor parking and I entwine our fingers as we walk into the emergency room entrance. I give him a squeeze right before the sliding doors open and he looks over at me. Fear fills his eyes and I hope he will let me in.

Brady walks up to the nurse’s station, giving his name and she tells him to take a seat and someone will be out. We sit in the plastic chairs, not paying attention to the infomercial on the television. Brady impatiently shakes his leg while groans flow out of his mouth. Clearly, he doesn’t want to be here and I can’t help but think maybe my presence is making this worse. He hasn’t even glanced my way since we walked into the hospital.

Finally, a nurse comes in, calling Brady’s name. Brady stands up and then turns to me, “Just please stay here? At least until I can see what is going on.” Seeing the anguish in his eyes, I nod my head and sit back down, watching him walk out of the room.

I try to distract myself by flipping through magazines or watching an infomercial about some skin care regime. I’m thankful when Maura comes into the room.

“Oh Sadie, I’m glad he brought you,” she says, obviously out of breath from rushing here.

“I didn’t really give him a choice,” I comment and she embraces me.

“He’s lucky to have you. He won’t take to you witnessing this easily so just remember, he loves you,” she warns me and I can’t help thinking that she’s the second person close to him that has told me this.

“I don’t plan on leaving,” I assure her and she smiles my way, taking my hands in hers.

“I knew I liked you that day in spin.” She turns around and makes her way to the nurse’s station. After talking friendly with the nurses, she walks toward the rooms in the emergency area.

I sit back down, waiting for some news. About fifteen minutes later, Grant walks in and takes the seat next to me.

“Any news?” he asks and I shake my head.

“Who called you?” I question, noticing his clearly sleepy face. He’s wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and a baseball cap covers what I assume is his bedhead.

“Maura.” He takes his ball cap off, repositioning it. “I’m surprised to see you,” he states, still staring straight ahead.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I snap.

“Oh Sadie, I just meant because of Brady. I didn’t mean…”