Left Drowning(42)

We are all quiet while we prepare. It’s the eye of the storm, and I am aware that it’s going to get worse.

“Ask Blythe if I’m right. She’s got to live with that religious nut. Blythe, tell ’em! You don’t believe in that shit. Come on, Stellie’s a little bonkers, right?”

I say nothing. This is not the Sabin I know, and I don’t recognize the surly, nasty attitude that he’s throwing out. Although I’m angry, I’m also worried about him. I know that it’s just the alcohol talking, or mostly it is, but it’s breaking my heart to watch him like this. Estelle hasn’t moved from her spot by the doorway, and she looks equally crushed, incapable of defending herself right now.

Sabin looks at me. “You’re taking their side on this, too?” he demands.

“Don’t answer that,” Chris says.

“Oh, now you’re speaking for Blythe? That’s f*cking rich!”

“I’m not speaking for Blythe. I’m telling you to shut the f*ck up and lay off.” I can tell how much effort it takes, but he softens his voice as he continues talking. “Sabe. Pull your shit together. You’ve put us through enough tonight.”

Sabin slides off the table and grabs another beer. Then he grabs my arm and pulls me from the couch. I wish more than anything that he would pass out because I don’t like who he is now. This is not my friend. This is a drunk, belligerent, disrespectful version of my friend, but I let him take me from my place with Chris because I don’t want to do anything to antagonize him further.

“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 f*cking 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 f*ck her, but you’ll talk for her? *.”

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 f*ck down. Now.”

Sabin just won’t stop, though. “I’m just sayin’, Chris. You’ve f*cked plenty of other girls, but not Blythe? So what the f*ck’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 f*ck. 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.”