by K. Michelle
I smile and head to the living room.
Sal and Dennis have a small home, but it’s cozy. It feels like a home, one that you want to come back to as much as possible, one with cookies on the counter and fresh coffee around the clock.
Taking a seat on the cushy white couch, I ask the salted hair man in front of me, “How are the units going?”
Dennis owns several of the storage units throughout Lake Meadows and the surrounding cities, hence why Cohen wants me to ask him about the picture of the dude in my pocket.
“Good, girl. Going good.”
“So, I actually have a question for you.”
Dennis raises a brow at me, most likely wondering why I’m intruding while Guy Fieri is talking about going to Flavor Town with the best pulled pork in Houston.
“Do you know this guy?” I take the mystery man out of my pocket and slide the picture over to him.
He studies it for a minute. “Hmm ... Who’s asking?”
“Me. I found him on one of those dating sites, and he said he worked at some of the storage unit places. Just wanted to make sure he’s legit.”
He grunts, “Mike Donovan. Decent fellow. Quiet.”
“Do you know what units he was at?” I ask nonchalantly while looking at the TV, but it comes out suspicious, and Dennis isn’t buying it. But he’s also not questioning me, thankfully.
He scratches his beard for a moment before replying, “Lake Meadows Storage.”
“Cool. Just want to make sure I’m not talking to a crazy dude. Thanks Denny.”
He grunts again, despising that nickname, and I hop up and walk past him, but he grabs my hand and halts me. “Be careful, Dessa.” He’s looking at me dead in the eyes, communicating something much more meaningful than those words—a warning.
“I will. I promise.” I head to the bathroom and take out my phone to enter the information in my notes to not forget. Afterward, I return to the living room and sink into the couch until dinner is ready.
And it doesn’t take long before we’re all eating Sally’s famous chicken casserole with a buffet of sides. I missed home-cooked meals the most while I was gone. My taste buds explode, and my stomach will pop if I eat anymore. “Sally, you have officially refueled me for another four years.”
“You better not disappear for that long again without visiting. I’ll drag you back myself.”
I bark out another laugh. “You in California is a sight to behold.”
Sally bites back another smile, but it’s mixed with a twisted expression, and I glance over to Dennis, who’s doing the same thing.
“What are you not telling me? Spill.”
“I didn’t tell you how we met?” she asks, feigning surprise, even though she knows damn well she didn’t tell me.
“No, you actually didn’t. Color me intrigued now. I guess I assumed church.” Now it’s Dennis who’s laughing, and that is no joke, the first time I’ve ever seen him express any sort of sense of humor. I didn’t think he had one.
“I went off to Bible College in California. Came back here on the back of his motorcycle for summer break,” she tries to conceal her laughter at my shocked face, “Let’s just say my parents were less than thrilled.
“Sally! You hussy!” I yell out, causing all three of us to roll into a fit of laughter, I didn’t see it before, because I was so focused on getting out of this town, but these two have made a profound impact on my life without me even realizing it. My phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping me out of the moment.
Russo: Hope you got what we needed. Be there soon.
“Ugh, I have to get going,” I look up to them, “it was so good to see you guys. You’ll have to come down to my studio. See the place,” I say, putting on my jacket.
Sal nods. “We would love to. Don’t be a stranger, you know. This is your home, too.”
I pause and express my gratitude through a smile. These emotions are still relatively foreign to me, and they only amplified throughout our evening. I give both of them hugs and promise to stop by again soon. I walk out into the cool night air and text Cohen back on the way out to my car.
Me: I did. But text me like that again and you won’t get shit. See you soon x.
He texts back immediately.
Russo: Yum.
I roll my eyes and drive to my apartment. I park in my space, grab my bag, and unlock the door to head inside and flip on the lights. Not even a minute later, the door opens behind me.
“Hello, Gorgeous,” both men say at the same time.
I turn around with a questioning look. “Don’t be weird,” my eyes look between both men standing in front of me, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No reason,” Evan says, and Cohen’s smirking at me.
“Whatever. Lock the door behind you.”
I turn around to finish putting my stuff away when I feel Cohen against my back.
“Aren’t you curious about how I knew where you lived?”
“No,” I state matter-of-factly.
“No?”
I’ve surprised him. “That’s what I said. You’re resourceful. And a big boy. I knew you’d figure it out.” I pat him on the chest twice and sidestep him to go into my living room, where Evan has already made himself at home. “You guys want anything to drink?”
“Nah, we’re good. Sit,” Cohen instructs.
“Eager, I see. Let me go change.”
Cohen rolls his eyes at me for stalling, which makes me want to make him wait even more. I head down the short hall, taking off my sweater and leggings once I’m in my room. As I’m in the middle of putting fresh clothes on, Cohen grabs me from behind, turning me around to pin me against the wall with his hand on my throat. I keep finding myself in this position, but I have to say I’m not mad about it.
“Cute room, Little One.”
“This isn’t the woods, Cohen. Remove your hand before you walk out with a much lower sperm count,” I say against the pressure on my throat. He smiles, my words sparking the match and lighting the fire in his eyes.
“Pretty soon, I’ll have you anywhere I please. I’m done only having you in the woods, Dessa. You can hate me all you want, but you’re still mine.” He drags his nose up my throat, his long hair tickling my skin before his mouth is at my ear. “I suggest you get used to the idea.”
He steps back slightly, dragging his fingers from my throat and down my heaving chest, right between my breasts. His eyes meet mine, and the only thing they spell is trouble, the kind he likes. Me too.
“Get dressed. We have things to discuss.” Then his back is turned, and he’s out the door. How he manages to act so unaffected after a lust-fueled battle is a trait I need to perfect when it comes to him. I can’t have him thinking I enjoy this shit.
And God, do I enjoy it.
I’m sitting on Dessa Collins’s couch with Evan on a Tuesday night. Fucking weird. As I’m adjusting my pants to hide the hard-on, Evan chuckles. I smirk back at him when Dessa walks straight past us and into the kitchen. My hands run down my face, both knees bouncing, I’m getting impatient. Moments later, she comes in with a steaming cup of coffee, and I check my watch.
“Coffee at ten pm?” I question her.
Dessa shrugs. “What? I could down three cups and go right to sleep.” She acts as if it’s normal. It’s not. I’m about to remind her why the fuck I’m here, but she finally speaks as she slides the picture back over. “Mike Donovan, Lake Meadows Storage, decent fellow, and quiet apparently. Dennis’s exact words. Almost.”
Rubbing my jaw, I nod. The name, Donovan, doesn’t ring any bells.
“Dennis did do one thing that caught me off guard, though. After I asked about Mike, I was walking out to check on Sal, and he grabbed my arm, gently, and told me to be careful. But the way he said it stuck with me. It was a warning. Not threatening in any way, but just … I don’t know. I can’t place it.”
“He knows something. There’s gotta be something he didn’t tell you,” Evan tells h
er.
“Yeah, but if he were to think I’d be in danger, he’d tell me. So, it can’t be something major,” she looks back and forth between us, “right?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not like you were close to Dennis like you are with Sally. Maybe he’s hiding something.”
She scoffs, “Please. Dennis? Hurting someone?”
“I never said, hurting someone. I said, hiding something. What makes you think Dennis would hurt someone?”
“Sally mentioned she met Dennis in California, and he brought her back here on his motorcycle. They might have more of a past than I give them credit for.”
“Owning a motorcycle doesn’t make you a felon, Dessa,” Evan chimes.
“I know that, fuck-face,” Dessa snaps before she looks at me. “I don’t know. I know he wouldn’t hurt Sal, or even me. But I don’t see him sitting idly by if something bad were to happen, or if someone threatened us. I could be wrong, but he told me to be careful about whatever I’m digging into.” She clicks her tongue, annoyed her brain isn’t working fast enough. “Maybe Mike hangs out with an iffy crowd. I did say I met him on a dating site.”
“Well, it’s a start. Now we have Mike’s full name and a location. We might be able to figure something out now.”
“What thing?” Dessa asks.
I pat her cute, messy blonde head. “Nothing for you to be concerned with.”
“Asshole. You two better be ready. When I call, I expect your help, not a minute later, either.”
“Sure thing, pumpkin.” Evan gives Dessa a cocky grin and stands to walk to where she’s leaning against the wall. My blood wants to boil at the sight of him close to her
“Thanks for the help, gorgeous.” Then he leans in and kisses her forehead. The look on her face when he pulls away instantly calms the fire burning in my chest and makes me want to laugh.
“That was weird. Don’t be weird, Evan. I’ll find you a nice little bimbo to shack up with.”
“Ooh, just my type. Don’t worry. I just like to piss off this guy.” He winks at her and heads out the door, leaving only her and me.
Dessa’s eyes flick to mine. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing is up with me.” I stand, and now it’s my turn to walk in front of her. My hand rests on the wall next to her head as I lean down, barely touching. “Till next time, Little One.” I gently press my lips to hers for a second before pulling away and flashing her a grin I don’t give to just anyone. Unless I need something. I take a step away from her, but she tugs the back of my jacket and turns me around until my back hits the front door. The sight is humorous due to the difference in our height. But fuck, she doesn’t let that stop her. Her left-hand cups the side of my neck with a little pressure, and her right leg hooks up over my hip as she drags her lips against mine, careful not to kiss me.
“You don’t get to decide if there’s a next time, Russo. You’ll crawl back to me before I’ll ever willingly come to you.” Her touch disappears from my body, leaving me with nothing but a chill where her warmth soaked into mine. She pushes me out and shuts the door.
Walking away, the sound of her lock clicking pulls my mouth into a smile.
I’ve been crawling to Dessa Collins since the age of eight, and she has no idea.
I look in the mirror, going over my appearance one more time. Last night, I barely slept because this visit today has me on fucking edge. My long blonde hair dried in waves, and I added a few more throughout. Long black lashes frame my eyes, making the light blue color in them pop. I didn’t opt for red lips today. Subtle will be better for this meeting, though it’s not like Senia’s going to care.
Senia is my mom, and she’s never cared before, why start now?
Wearing my black Adidas sweater and skinny black jeans, I throw on my black vans and head out the door. The drive over makes me think about the last letter I received, infuriated with her for having the nerve to tell me something this important the way she did. Gripping my steering wheel, I take in my surroundings. Sheets of frost cover the front lawns of dirty homes with broken toys scattered in the front, and the woods I’m all too familiar with just on the opposite side.
“The light and dark contrast is perfect, Dessa. Well done. Go ahead and wrap up, and we’ll see you back tomorrow.” The art professor critiques the painting I started today, his praise warming me.
“Copy that. Thank you,” I add with a smile and clean up. I set my canvas off to dry and grab my bag, heading to my car. I check my mail before walking to my dorm. Why? Hell, if I know. The only one who writes is Sally. I open my mailbox expecting nothing, but I’m taken aback at the envelope inside. Immediately, I know this isn’t Sally. I don’t know how the hell I became so intuitive, but there are certain times you know your life is about to change. The moment I laid eyes on this envelope; I knew this was one of them. I swallow my worry and grab the letter that has no return address and take it to my dorm room since my roommate is working the rest of the night. I throw everything on the floor and hop on my bed, tearing into the dirty white paper and taking out a faded letter ...
Dessa,
You have a sister, and she needs your help. She’s almost exactly one year younger than you. Find her, but don’t breathe a word about this to anyone. Otherwise, she’s worse off.
Whether she knows it or not, she needs you.
My eyes bulge out of my head. What. The. Hell? This has to be a joke. How is this even possible? My mind races a million miles per hour at how there could be a remote chance this is true. Why do I need to find her? It sounds like whoever wrote this knows where she is already, so why would they need me? How did my mom manage this? Does she have the same dad as me? Is this from my dad? Maybe she has a different mom. A migraine takes over as blood pulses through my ears.
I have a sister.
A small bead of hope forms in my chest. For whatever reason, I know this letter is true, and a fierce urge to protect her falls over me.
And that’s when it begins.
This is the moment I make a promise to find her. I have no fucking clue how.
But I will find her.
Every lead I’ve had has been a bust since I received that note a year ago. I’ve tried everything I could from where I was. But I’ve had absolutely nothing to go on besides a letter stating I have a sister. I don’t know her first name. I don’t know what she looks like. I don’t know if our last names are even the same. But I’ve never given up hope, and the fact I’m visiting my mom proves this because I loathe her. She was a shitty mother who used to beat the hell out of me and cared more about the men in her life than her daughter.
I pull in the driveway of my childhood home and see the dirt-stained white siding barely hanging on. The sidewalk is cracked, and the grass is dead and overgrown. Not much has changed. I get out of my car and head up to the front door, taking a deep breath and knocking with confidence. It takes a few minutes, but she finally opens the door and my eyes nearly pop out of my head. I’ve always viewed Senia Collins as a mystical creature who didn’t age, no matter the amount of alcohol and drugs she consumed. At least it’s what I remember thinking as a little girl. But the woman in front of me? The abuse she’s put her body through has caught up with her, and it hasn’t been kind. Her dingy and dull blonde hair is choppy, parts of it barely meeting her shoulders. She’s practically skin and bones with dark circles under her lifeless blue eyes that once shone as bright as mine.
She scoffs as she sees me, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you, too. I’ve been well, thanks for asking. We need to talk.”
With a roll of her eyes, she opens the door and turns back inside past the field of garbage cluttering her living room. The smell of old oil, odor, and cigarettes makes me want to gag.
“I’ll say it again, what the hell are you doing here?”
I stay standing. There is no way in hell I’m sitting on this furniture. “This.”
I take the letter out of my bag
and hand it to her. She opens it, and her eyes slightly open wider as her breath hitches. But it only lasts a second until her mask is back in place, and she looks up to me.
“Give it up, Sweetheart. If I were you, and I had any sense, I’d stay far, far away from finding her.” Senia waves the letter in the air and hands it back to me.
“You didn’t send this?”
“Why the hell would I? I barely wanted you. Except, I had the sense to give her up.”
“Wow, your motherly love is showing no bounds today, Senia.”
“I’ve never been motherly; I’m not going to start now.”
“I’m glad we at least agree on that.” I chew my lip, debating on whether I want to have this conversation. But I look around the home and realize I never want to come back here, nor do I ever want to be in her presence again. Might as well see if I can get any sort of answer out of her. “Why did you hate me so much, Senia?”
“You really want to do this, Dessa?” she asks as if I’m exasperating to her.
“Not really, but I never understood what I did to you as a little girl, to make you have such disdain in your eyes for your own daughter. All I wanted was for you to love me, but no matter what I did, it didn’t matter. And trust me, I don’t plan on ever returning after I walk out that door. But I figured I’d give this a shot.”
She takes a deep breath. I’ve annoyed her, but she can suck it up. “I never wanted to be a mom, Dessa. It’s not in my DNA. I wanted to party and live my life, but I got bogged down and it made me resent you. Then you looked just like me and it made me resent you more. You ruined my body and everything else I wanted out of life.”
“I ruined your plans to party, you mean. I wouldn’t call that a goal for life, Senia. It’s not like I asked to be born. Your carelessness did that.”
“Either way, I was young. I thought I’d found something with the guy. But I was just a piece in his puzzle. I dug into some things I had no business digging into, and he made me pay for it.” She twists her cigarette into the ashtray next to her. “So, I did what any drug-addicted twenty-year-old, selfish bitch would do. I took it out on you. Did you deserve it? No, you didn’t. But those are my reasons. That is my truth.”