Craving My Brother's Best Friend (Bailey and Kaleb) novel Chapter 8

**The Night We Borrowed Fire from a Broken Star by Selvin Arlo Crest**
**Chapter 8**

**Kaleb’s POV**

A suffocating darkness enveloped me, thick and oppressive.

Every attempt to move sent sharp pains through my wrists and ankles, the ropes biting into my skin with relentless ferocity. I twisted and thrashed, desperation clawing at my insides, but it was futile.

My chest felt tight, and each breath came with a searing burn, a reminder of the panic that gripped me.

“I’ll kill your fucking son,” rasped a voice, low and menacing, echoing through the shadows.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you… fucking pig!” My father’s voice boomed with a fierce protectiveness that filled me with both fear and a flicker of hope.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of doors creaking open and slamming shut, and before I could process what was happening, I was hoisted off the ground, my body flailing helplessly.

Then, without warning, I was plunged into frigid water. The shock hit me like a jolt of electricity, and I sank quickly, my limbs thrashing as I fought against the icy grip of the depths. I was drowning, and the sensation of death loomed over me like a dark cloud.

With a gasp, I jolted awake, sitting upright in bed, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs.

It was nearly midnight.

The same dream, the same relentless nightmare that had haunted me for the past five years.

I threw the covers aside, urgency propelling me to my feet. My throat felt parched, a dry desert in need of water.

Stumbling into the kitchen, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, attempting to shake off the remnants of the dream.

There stood Bailey, her back to me, silhouetted against the soft glow of the kitchen light. The sheer fabric of her nightgown clung to her form, accentuating her curves, and for a moment, I was struck by her beauty.

Her hair, a cascade of red-brown waves, tumbled gracefully down her back, brushing against her waist.

She had blossomed into an incredible woman, leaving behind the awkward girl I once knew. My snotty-nosed Bailey had transformed into someone breathtaking.

It seemed she sensed my gaze, for she turned to face me, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“What are you doing in the kitchen this late?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, careful not to break the fragile peace of the moment.

“Thought I’d get some warm milk,” she replied, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

I couldn’t help but smile back as I reached for a glass.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her eyes reflecting a weariness that mirrored my own.

Warm milk. A comfort she had clung to, even as she grew up. Chocolate when she was scared, warm milk when sleep eluded her.

I poured myself a glass of water, and as I turned to leave, I felt the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

“Are you still angry with me, Bails?” I ventured, my heart thumping in my chest.

“No,” she responded quickly, but the hesitation in her tone suggested otherwise.

“Look, Bailey, I’m really sorry,” I blurted out, the urgency of my apology surprising even myself.

She paused, her brow furrowing as she regarded me intently.

“Why?” she asked, curiosity piqued, her eyes searching mine for answers.

“Why is the all-knowing, invincible Kaleb apologizing?”

“For everything,” I admitted, the weight of my past pressing down on me.

Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.

“I wanted to know why you disappeared,” she finally broke the silence, her voice steady but laced with hurt. “Why you never called.”

“I wanted to…” I started, but the words caught in my throat.

“It wasn’t just a week, Kaleb. It was five years. You are my family. No matter what happened, I just wanted to know you were alright.”

The truth of her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I wanted to share everything, to unburden my soul and let her in on the darkness that plagued me, but I couldn’t bring myself to taint her with my troubles.

“I’m truly sorry for disappearing like that,” I reiterated, my voice softer now. “I’m back, Kiddo, and I want my little Bailey back. You know how much it pains me to see you angry with me.”

Her lips quivered, and she cast her gaze downward, avoiding my eyes.

“I’m not little anymore,” she muttered, frustration lacing her tone as she turned to leave.

“And about the kiss…” I added, my heart racing as I dared to tread on delicate ground.

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise and something else—was it hope?

“It was out of place; I shouldn’t have done that. I was just so happy to see you. I’m sorry for that too.”

Her expression shifted, brows knitting together as she looked away, uncertainty clouding her features.

“Why would the all-knowing, invincible Kaleb be apologizing?”

“For everything, Bails.”

I stared at him, my heart aching with a mixture of emotions. For years, I had rehearsed what I would say if he ever returned, but now that he was here, I found myself speechless. All I wanted was to know he was okay.

“I wanted to know why you never called. You are family. I just wanted to know you were alright.”

The vulnerability in my voice surprised me, and I hated that it cracked, but it was the truth.

His eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t explain everything, but I’m sorry for disappearing like that. I’m back now, and I want my little Bails back. You know I hate seeing you angry with me.”

The word “Kiddo” twisted painfully in my chest. I wasn’t a child anymore, and I longed for him to see that.

He hesitated, then spoke again, “About the kiss…”

Our eyes locked, and I felt a flicker of hope ignite within me.

“It was out of place, and I’m sorry it happened. I was just so happy to see you. Just forget it happened.”

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile to mask the disappointment that threatened to surface. “Let’s just remain friends.”

“Of course,” he replied, relief evident in his tone.

“We’ll forget it ever happened.”

I grabbed a glass, poured my milk, and slid it across the counter toward him, a gesture of goodwill and a silent promise that we could move forward.

“Thanks, Bails,” he said softly, accepting the glass.

I nodded, holding his gaze for a moment longer before looking away, uncertainty creeping in.

He wanted us to be just friends, like before. It was a simpler path, devoid of complications.

“Just friends,” I whispered, the words tasting bittersweet on my tongue.

“Yeah. Friends,” he echoed, sealing our unspoken agreement.

**Chapter 9**