“C’mon, B. Tell me that you agree with me. You think Estelle is deluded, right? I mean, there are no guardian angels floating around us, no saints, no all-powerful God. No magical being living in the sky.” He wraps an arm around my waist and crushes me against him. Now I’m getting pissed. His hold is too tight, and he’s hurting me. I know he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t make me any less angry.
I make a sound as he crushes my rib cage, and I push back against him. “Knock it off.”
Chris is on his feet in an instant with a firm grasp on Sabin’s upper arm. I can see that his arm is flexed, but his expression and voice remain calm. “Let her go, Sabe.”
With his free hand, Sabin waves the can in the air. “No magical people in the sky, but there are, however, sinners. Right, everyone?”
“Sabin.” Chris is visibly struggling to keep his cool, but he does it. “Get your fucking hands off Blythe. Now.” I’ve never seen Chris like this, with so much rage under the surface. I know he adores his brother, but the cold way he’s looking at Sabin right now wrecks me. “I’m warning you.”
“Oh, I get it, I get it!” Sabin pulls me in harder. “You’re not going to fuck her, but you’ll talk for her? Pussy.”
It feels like it happens out of nowhere. Sabin shoves his mouth roughly against mine, and his tongue gets halfway down my throat before Chris rips him off me. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I am recovering from the caustic taste of beer and bourbon and foolishness as Chris drags Sabin by a fistful of shirt across the room. Chris backs his brother against the wall and holds him there firmly.
Sabin’s eyes are red. “There you go, Chris. Let me have it. You know you want to.” Chris now has both hands twisted up into Sabin’s shirt, and while Sabin may have the size advantage, Chris has the strength advantage. And the clear fury.
“Don’t! Chris, please, don’t!” As pissed off as I am at Sabin, he’s just drunk, and I don’t want Chris hurting him.
“Blythe, I’m not going to hurt him. I want him to calm the fuck down. Now.”
Sabin just won’t stop, though. “I’m just sayin’, Chris. You’ve fucked plenty of other girls, but not Blythe? So what the fuck’s that about, huh? You too good for her? That it?”
The room is dead silent as Chris pulls him forward slightly and then pushes him back against the wall so hard that his head bounces once. I wince at the audible thud, but know as I watch Chris stare into Sabin’s eyes that he won’t really hurt his brother. Despite the hold he’s got on him, Chris shows incredible self-control as he puts his face right to Sabin’s and says just loudly enough that I can hear, “No, you stupid fuck. She’s too good for me.”
I can barely breathe. Nobody moves; nobody speaks.
A few minutes pass while Chris continues to hold Sabin against the wall. “Sabe? Can this be over now?”
Finally Sabin’s body deflates, and he sinks against the wall. He puts a hand on the back of Chris’s head. “I’m sorry, man. I’m so sorry. I’m just drunk. I love you.”
I see the tension in Chris’s shoulders and arms lessen, but he doesn’t let him go yet. “I love you, too. Don’t be so careless with your life. Or with ours.” Chris pats Sabin on the cheek. “Now apologize to Blythe for being a stupid douche bag.”
I am in awe of how well Chris has maintained his composure through this, and how he’s diffused such a volatile situation. Estelle, Zach, and Eric are frozen still near the door, as if moving a muscle might create a new problem.
Sabin rolls his head my way. “Blythe …”
He doesn’t need to say anything to me. While what has just transpired has scared me to some degree, I know that the other side of rage is sadness, and that he’s feeling something incredibly sad tonight. I don’t know what it’s about. But I do know that Chris went easy on Sabin and that there has to be more to this story. So while I’m pissed at Sabin, I mostly feel worried and protective of him. Besides, the absolute remorse on Sabin’s face says it all. I know how it feels when I’m not myself, when everything that I’ve pushed down gets twisted and crazy and resurfaces in the most destructive way possible. I can give Sabin more than leeway because I know him, and I know his heart. “It’s okay.”
“No,” he says, sounding more sober than he has all night. “No, it’s not. I’m a prick.”
“You are. But it’s going to be okay. You went into the deep end of the ocean. I know what that’s like. But now we’re both back.” I cross the room to be by Sabin’s side. I’m not afraid; I am just sad. “Let him go, Chris.”
Chris looks at me for a moment and then at Sabin. “Are you done?” he asks softly. “Did you get it all out?”
“Yeah.”
Chris continues to keep his voice level, almost like a parent talking to a misbehaving child. “If I let you go, and you make one wrong move, I’ll have to—”
Sabin throws his hands up in surrender. “I swear to God.”
“How about you not mention God again for a few minutes?” he says, a touch of a smile on his lips. When Chris releases him and backs off to stand with the others near the door, I wrap my arms around Sabin’s shoulders and hug him. I hold him tightly.
“Don’t hug me,” he says, his arms resting at his side. “I’m a bastard.”
“You’re not a bastard. Look, I know what it’s like to want to lash out. I’ve been there.”
Sabin shrugs.
“So hug me back,” I say.
And then he hugs me back, and he feels like Sabin again. He feels like part of me.
I hear Chris talking softly to Estelle, and I look up from Sabin’s embrace. “It’s over,” I hear him say. “Please don’t be upset. Everything is fine; no one got hurt. No one was going to get hurt. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Do you hear me?”
She looks blankly at him, but her eyes are rimmed with tears.
Chris keeps talking. “I wasn’t going to hit him. You know that, right? I would never do that.”
I turn Sabin so that he can see Estelle’s broken expression. “Go tell her it’s over. But just let her have her God. I don’t care if you don’t like it. It’s important to her. Let her have what she needs. Estelle never pushes her beliefs on you. She never tells you that you’re going to hell for not believing in God.”
“I know.”
Sabin is worn out. I can see it in the way he moves to her. She brushes past Chris and flies into Sabin’s arms. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault, Sabe.”
“Never. You didn’t cause this. I’m so sorry, baby girl. With everything that I am—although that may not seem like much now—but with everything that I am, I promise this will never happen again.” Estelle nearly disappears in his big arms. “You keep your faith. Always. I won’t ever try to shoot it down again. On my life.”
“I’m tired now.” She has wilted into him, and he has found the strength to hold her up. “I want to go to sleep. You’ll stay with me?”
“Anything you want.”
“Chris, too. Everyone.”
“Of course,” Chris says.
The six of us leave the battle scene and start to cross the hall into my and Estelle’s room.
“So,” Eric says in an inappropriately casual voice, “we may need to discuss your mattress situation, Chris.”
Chris stops in his tracks. “What?”
“It might be a little … damp.”
“Possibly frozen,” Zach adds.
Chris just shakes his head.
Eric staggers ahead into the room, dragging Zach behind him. “Hey, next time ask someone else to catch the roof surfer.”
“Trayer!” Sabin yells. “The word is trayer!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Breathing under Water
The sun has barely started rising when I wake up. I must have been exhausted to be able to fall asleep sitting up. At least my futon is in the couch position, and except for the fact that my legs are aching from the weight of Sabin’s head in my lap, I’m comfortable enough with my back against the mattress. I had the good sense to change out of my holiday dress clothes and into sweats and a T-shirt, so that helps. Sabe is still lightly snoring, and I gently smooth his hair away from his face as he takes a deep breath and snuggles into me, tucking his arms under my legs. Eric and Zach are unmoving, entwined next to us under the blanket that I’d tossed over them.