Too Far Gone

Okay!! It is finally here!! Chapter 3!! Notice three sets of three exclamation marks. Ha!! So, not going to lie. I want to thank everyone who commented, voted, emailed, and stayed on me to finish this up. Some people had some serious ideas about the way the story should go and how some characters should develop. Some I agreed with, some I was like "REALLY?!" But how about we get to the story and see how it went? I'm really looking forward to it.

--Shaide--

*****

Lynn

As I laid on his chest, I listened to his breathing, feeling the warmth of him as the cool air from the fan flowed over us. Things were about to get bad. I knew that. Bryce was never worse than when Adonis was around. D was going to love this. The streets were going to go crazy. First Alice rolls into town, and now Adonis. Bryce was going to be hell on wheels.

"I'm not just some Adonis stand in for you, right?"

"Wow, that was sudden," I said. "Where'd that come from?"

"I know you use to be into him. All the girls were into him. So am I?"

"Of course not. Like Adonis could be half the man you are. I mean come on, you're the only man for me. Who else knows me like you do? You're sweet, hardcore, and I love you." I reached up and turned his face towards me. "I love you," I repeated as I kissed him. "You."

As he looked into my eyes, I made sure he understood that I meant what I was saying. "I love you, too," he said. I laid my head back down on his chest, listening to him breath, feeling him relax, if only just a little. As sexy as Adonis is, I hated how he made Bryce feel. Alice always made him question himself, the life he had chosen. But Adonis was the reason he chose it. Adonis was the reason that he was in my bed right now.

Bryce was a good guy. He could have been on the debate team, dating some little bookworm, and sitting in the bleachers for the football games. Instead, he was shaking down gangsters, beating down thugs, and making sure those football players paid for their drugs. And sure, I shouldn't complain, but I did love him. And I wanted what was best for him. I just refused to let him have that without me.

No one else was going to love him like I did. No one else was going to understand him. "You know, you could just move in. Stay here until graduation. I mean, you spend most of your nights here anyway. It's not like your parents are going to say anything."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," I could hear him smiling. "I bet you'd even charge me rent."

I snaked my hand down under the covers and ran my fingernails over his cock, "Oh, I'd charge you alright." I wrapped my hand around him and started stroking him, feeling him harden in my hand. "Light bill, gas bill, water bill." I ran my thumb under the helmet of his dick. "Hmm, I hope you can afford all that. Internet, phone," I started going faster. "Hmm, can you pay up? Renter's insurance, taxes, furnishings. Plus I have to feed you too. That's gotta be worth something, right?"

"B-but you suck at cooking," he stammered.

"I suck other things too," I smiled. Still stoking him, I slid down his body. His dick was nice and hard as I slid him past my lips, my tongue playing along the underside of his cock as I began to fondle his balls.

"Oh shit," he moaned. I took him as deep as I could. When he reached the back of my throat, I paused, took a breath, and swallowed. "Oh God," he moaned as my throat started working against him. I kept him there as long as I could before I pulled back.

I started jacking him off again. "Did you like that? Do you like how good I suck?" I lifted his cock up and started to suck on his balls. One at a time, getting them nice and wet. I went back to sucking him off as I played with his balls. His hand found its way to the back of my head, trying to push himself deeper into me. I didn't let him though. There was something about being in control of his orgasm, of him needing me, that drove me crazy. My own hand slid down to my pussy and started playing with my clit. I pulled back until only the head of his dick was in my mouth and started to twirl my tongue around it.

Then I pulled him out and started to jack him off again. "Come on Yce, time to pay up. Can you afford it? Huh?" God, he was so hard and hot, and I had him in the palm of my hand. "Come on Yce. Give me what you owe me." I took back into my mouth and as soon as I did, his hands pulled me down, forcing his cock into my throat as he finally burst.

I let him take control as his seed splashed against my throat. He closed his eyes and fell back onto the bed as his orgasm finally finished with him. I slid up his body until he was face to face with my pussy. "That should take care of the light bill, but I think you need to eat some of this home cooking," I smiled down at him.

That's what most girls don't understand about men. They aren't really horn dogs. Sex is how they express their intimacy. Bryce was feeling lonely, replaceable. Sliding his tongue into my pussy was how I let him know that he was the man for me. My hands on his head, his on my ass, my juices flowing into his mouth, I showed him how much I loved him.

Alice

It was always awkward when we were both at home. The man of my dreams, my soulmate, my lover, was sleeping down the hall from me. Because we were both certain that our parents would have some serious things to say about their son having sex with their daughter. We had the usual argument as well.

Adrian was tired of hiding, had been tired of it for a long time. I had to make him go to his own room this time. Who knew when Mom and Dad would come home, or, God forbid, Bryce? Adrian didn't care. He was all for it. I loved him, but Adrian had a grossly inflated view of his own abilities. He was sure he could bring anyone around to his point of view.

And eventually, sure, we would have to tell our family about our relationship. But I wanted to be able to control that situation. I did not need to have Dad walking in my room to the soundtrack Adrian had me singing while he ate me out to my third orgasm.

I got up and started heading towards the bathroom. Of course, Bryce didn't come home. That boy had way too much freedom. I mean, he may be 18 and all, but he was still living under our parent's roof. Why were they allowing this kind of behavior? Then again, they didn't come home either. As I brushed my teeth, I thought about that. About the relationship between Bryce and our parents. As much as it hurt me to admit it, they had failed him as parents. They held me and Adrian up as their glorious, golden success, but then they had shoved Bryce into the closet. I mean, my first night back, he completely skipped out of a family dinner. And not coming home at night? Adrian and I were home by 10, on graduation night! And he was in a gang!

All their success with us was negated by their absolute failure with him. The worse part was, they had allowed his big brother and sister to leave him behind. That wasn't totally their fault, but they had to have seen what was happening. They had to have known. And they had let it happen anyway.

I'm sure part of me, some part that I'm not too proud of, was happy to have someone else to share the blame with, but that didn't mean that there wasn't plenty of blame to go around. Even Adrian had a dose or two that he needed to swallow.

I was doing my part, at least, when I could. I was working on it, trying to insert myself back into Bryce's life. But I needed to make the rest of my family step up to the plate. I had studied criminal psychology a little bit. Gangs inserted themselves where the family left gaps. It was like a weed, filling in the space and then starving everything else out. I wouldn't let that happen though. I wouldn't let Bryce starve.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Teeth brushed, face washed, shower taken, hair combed, and female things that all women do but of which we never speak were taken care of. The one bad thing about being home. Comfort was no longer the top of my list when lounging around, sensibility was. Adrian's t-shirt and no panties were not going to work for Dad.

I sighed as I got dressed. Jeans and panties and a bra were necessities, not options in my parents' home, for the first time I missed my dorm life. As I walked into the kitchen, I developed a sudden deep hatred for men and their double standards. Adrian sat, happy, content, and oblivious, in front of the TV. Pajama bottoms, no shirt, no shoes, hair everywhere, eating his bowl of cereal. I knew he wouldn't really get much more dressed than that. He'd trade the pajama bottoms in for a pair of sweat pants and throw on a t-shirt.

"Morning," he said as he looked up.

"Morning," jealously seething through my casual response. I went and fixed my own bowl of cereal and sat down next to him. Feminism aside, it was time to get to work. "So, what do you have planned today?"

"Some of the boys from the old team wanted to get together. Play some ball, have some drinks, you know, the usual."

"That sounds nice," I said, nonchalantly. "Maybe you should invite Bryce along." I saw him flinch from the corner of my eye. What was that about?

"Yeah, I don't think that football is really his thing."

"Things change Adrian. Besides, you should spend a little one-on-one time with the grad in the family. He is the reason we came into town. Right?"

I heard him sigh into his cereal bowl and resign himself to his fate. "Yeah, but-"

"No but's Adrian. He's your little brother. It's his graduation. Spend some time with him, it won't kill you."

He sighed again. "You're not the one who has to get hit," he said.

As if on que, the front door closed behind Bryce as he came in. "Hey bro," I said, "Breakfast?"

He looked into the dining room at us and his eyes narrowed as he took in the sight. "No thanks."

I elbowed Adrian. "Hey bro, me and the boys are getting together for a game. You down?"

"Fuck you," Bryce said as he walked to his room.

Oh my. That was unexpected. Then again, he was just as hesitant to my own overtures at first. I just had to make Adrian keep pressing. It would get better. It would get easier. For the both of them.

"Well, there goes that idea," Adrian said, with more relief in his voice than I thought was really appropriate.

"He's just grumpy because he hasn't had any sleep," I said. "Give it another try when he wakes up."

We finished our cereal and spent the morning watching TV as I fought off Adrian's inappropriate intimacy. No matter how much I wanted to lay around resting my head on his chest as his arms encircled me, randomly fondling my breasts throughout the morning. It wasn't right to do that kind of thing at home. Not when Bryce could walk around the corner at any given moment.

How the hell did we do this before we were at college? Oh yeah, we didn't give a damn about Bryce. The rashness of youth. It was several hours later, after a hard and quick make-out session with Adrian that Bryce finally emerged from his room. Adrian was just getting ready to leave to go meet his old team of meat-heads. I sat on the couch, studying a chapter of my history book.

"Hey bro," Adrian said as he tossed the football around in the air, "I'm about to roll out to the field, you wanna go?"

Bryce walked towards him. Face still, no hesitation, no hint to the violence in his heart. Suddenly Adrian shoved the ball out in front of him and I heard a rush of air. Bryce pulled back his hand and I saw the silver of a knife slide out of the pigskin. "Maybe next time, bro." He wasn't talking about football.

As Bryce walked past a fear-frozen Adrian, he stopped, smiled, and whispered something to him. Then he kept walking, without even glancing my way, until the door closed behind him.

"W-what did he say," I asked.

"He told me not to worry. He didn't plan to kill me before he graduated."

Adrian

It was a good game. Four on four. My team won of course. Jason was a good quarterback, but he wasn't even close to my level anymore. I had went to college on a football scholarship. I had a whole extra five years of training. Jason was good. But I was so much more than that.

Still, it was fun. And it kept my mind off what had happened before that first shotgun snap. It was almost seven when we saw that the streetlights were on and decided to call it a day. We went and had a couple of drinks and talked about the old days. They didn't pay him any attention, but I did. When D-vil walked in, we looked at each other, acknowledged one another, and then moved on. It was time for me to go.

I'll lie to my friends. I'll lie to the world. But I've rarely ever lied to myself. I was running. I was scared. I knew about my little brother's gang connections. It was only by the barest of margins that I had blocked that knife. It was only the slightest chance that I had seen him coming. I wasn't going to test my luck any more tonight. The Bad Lads weren't all that impressive when I was growing up. Hardcore, sure. But they were such a small that it didn't matter. D-vil had done a great job of growing it, and with Bryce as the fruit, I wasn't willing to chance another run in.

I left. I said my goodbye's and paid my tab. I ran away. I'm not proud of it, but Bryce terrified me. There was an episode of Batman where someone told him he made all of his worse villain. I believed it. I think we all do. Bryce was the worst of my nightmares come true. And I made him myself.

Years of overt cruelty and obvious brutality had made him into my own personal Boogie Man. When I got home, I started straight for my room, but then I saw Bryce's door open. I stopped.

Maybe I could try to call a truce again, at least while the whole family was here. I'd be gone soon enough after all. And I'd like to sleep with some peace at night. I shivered as I remembered that night. Him standing there. That knife. It was the same one as today. I remembered how it caught the moonlight that slipped through the blinds. Until my dying breath, I'll always remember that knife. That look.

I walked down the hall, but instead of Bryce, I found Alice.

No. God no.

In her hands, she had one of them. One of his journals. God no.

"Um... you really shouldn't be doing that."

She literally jumped out of her skin. "Oh God! Oh shit, it's just you. I thought you were Bryce," she said as she started to catch her breath.

"If I had been, you'd be so dead." And I didn't mean that metaphorically. It was like looking at myself. This was exactly how I had gotten so deep in the shit with him. And she didn't have the benefit of dealing with the nice Bryce.

"Yeah, I know. But he's so closed off, how else am I supposed to close the gap between us all?"

"Don't. Don't even try. He likes the gap. Just leave it alone."

"How can you say that? Do you know he's in a gang? Do you know he hates us? And not just you and me, but the whole family. I mean, Adrian, he almost stabbed you today! We need to reel him in before he does something really bad. Something that can't be fixed."

I sighed. "Look, I'm going to take a shower. Put that back where you found it, and then we'll talk."

"There's a black page in here about you." She said it thinking it would shock me, intrigue me.

"I'm sure there are more than a few," I said as I turned away. I knew all about the black pages.

Alice

It was almost forty minutes before I walked into Adrian's room where he had retreated to. I sat down between his legs and leaned back against him as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me back into him.

"A few years ago," he started, "I did something really mean. I've always looked down on Bryce, but that day... It was bad. Some kids were jumping him after school. I saw them. I saw him. And he saw me. I could have stopped it. I was big enough. Popular enough. I could have stopped it. I didn't." He stopped talking. I think it was the first time he had even admitted that to himself. He was gathering his courage. Why did everyone need to do that when it came to Bryce?

"That night, he came home with two black eyes, a busted lip, and more bruises that none of us ever even bothered to notice. He caught me in his room. I was reading one of his journals. I've read them when I could find them. It's been a while though. Well, that night, I woke up and he was standing next to my bed. He was watching me and he had a knife in his hand.

"I could do it. No one could stop me. Not even you. You could have stopped them. But you didn't. You never do. I don't think you can. You can't even stop yourself. So how could you stop me?" There was a deep sadness in his eyes that terrified me. My whole world was in his tiny little hand. The knife looked so big in his hand. I stared, transfixed, as the moonlight slid through the blinds on the window and danced on the blade. "I never thought you hated me that much. To let that happen. I understand now though. This is us." For the first time he looked away from me and down at the knife in his hand. "One day, you'll be worth it. I won't care how much trouble I get in. I'll do it. I'll end you. Forever. I just want you to remember. You did this. I tried. I tried to love you. All of you. But I wasn't good enough was I. I wasn't worth loving." He leaned down and I felt that cold, naked blade against the bare skin of my neck. "I'm going to kill you, Adonis. One day, you'll push me hard enough and I won't care anymore. You can't help yourself. You'll do it. And I'm going to kill you." He stood back up and walked away. Just before he closed the door, he looked at me. "Sweet dreams, big brother."

He squeezed me tight. He wasn't just scared, he was terrified. Of Bryce? Of my reaction? Of his own confession? Of all of it? I didn't know. I wrapped my hands into his, willing my strength into him to continue. He intertwined his fingers into mine and took a deep breath. "You probably don't remember this, you were pretty young. But I do. Mom and Dad almost got divorced."

What did that have to do with anything?

"Mom was raped. I didn't understand that at the time, but I figured it out later. She ended up getting pregnant. Dad wanted her to get an abortion, but she wouldn't. He didn't want to raise a 'rape baby'. I still remember him saying that. Dad moved out for almost two years. He tried to come back after Bryce was born, but Mom wouldn't let him. It took another year for them to reconcile. She didn't breastfeed him. I remember that, too. I remember when you were born, when you cried I would tell mom you were hungry and she would feed you. Bryce was a formula baby. Even when Dad moved back in, they had all kinds of fights. You use to cry every time you heard them. You would go for days without saying a word to anyone, even me."

He stopped. I could feel those childhood emotions running through him. It was strange, surreal even, to see Adrian, my Adonis, so shaken, so vulnerable.

"I was just a kid. I knew it was Bryce's fault. Our family was falling apart all around me, and I just knew that it was Bryce's fault."

I felt his head against my shoulder, and felt something wet. Suddenly, I knew he was crying. Oh God, Adonis was crying. In all my years, I had never seen my brother cry. I wanted to say something to comfort him, but this was his confession. I had witnessed Bryce cleanse himself with hate and fire. Adrian's cleansing was water and regret.

"I was horrible to him. I picked on him so much it became a habit. I did it for years. Day after day, week after week. Until months turned into years. Until I forgot that I was as much his brother as I was yours. For Dad and Mom, he was a living embodiment of the worst time in their lives. For me, he was all that was wrong in the world. I remember one time he was playing with one of my toys in the back yard. I beat him up. Dad saw me from the upstairs window and he never said a thing about it. It only confirmed what I already believed. But that night... That night I saw the monster that I had made."