Echoes of Us

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Echoes of Us Page 7

by S. H. Timmins


  She texted me a few hours later to let me know that Carla was sober enough to drive them home and asked if I would be okay. I told her I was fine and that I would text her in the morning.

  Now, I’m listening to the sounds of the party drift in through my window and allow my mind wander. I think back on how my life has gotten to this point. I can’t even blame my mom’s marriage to Victor because I was already being groomed into this role before then. Victor had his reputation to uphold, and he couldn’t have a kid from the other side of the tracks tarnishing it. I was placed in the best school, alongside a very disgruntled Byron - who wanted nothing to do with me. Even at age ten, he was a tyrant prince and treated me like a lowly subject.

  In the first year, mom and I were living in a separate wing of the huge mansion, but in public, he paraded me as his “ward”, and he introduced my mom as his “friend”. He would flatter her and deflect anyone who asked about how they met. Victor was already laying the groundwork for when he escalated her to the position of wife. He had his name to protect and couldn’t tell his colleagues he was marrying the nanny. At the time, I didn’t understand because I thought my mom was the nanny for Byron, but that was just a ruse to get my mom here and for Byron to accept her place in his life. I guess she had never really been the nanny when I think back on it.

  I remember a conversation I had with her….

  “Momma, why did you make us come here? I hate it here! Mr. Mason makes me wear ugly clothes and won’t even let me run in the backyard after it rains.”

  My mom carefully brushed my hair and pinned it back with a clasp, before answering me. “Jo, I need you to be a good girl for me and do as he asks. He’s giving us this beautiful house to live in, you’re going to a nice school, and you’re making friends. All he wants is for us to be happy here and try to belong. Can’t you do that for me, baby?”

  I didn’t like my new friends. They were girls, for starters. I wanted the boy who was already my friend. The only boy I knew here was the rotten kid who lived with us, and he hated me. “I don’t like it here, Momma. Why can’t we go home?”

  My mom sighed. “There’s nothing for us to go home to, Jo. We’ve talked about this. This is where we live now, and you need to accept that.”

  “But, didn’t you like Cruz’s daddy? Why couldn’t we have lived with him and Cruz?”

  My mom’s breath hitched, and I watched her eyes close in the mirror's reflection. “I liked him too much, but there are things you don’t understand. Maybe when you’re older, you’ll appreciate how hard it was for me to leave. If I can pretend to be happy here, so can you.”

  “You mean when Mr. Mason visits your room late at night? Do you pretend to be nice to him then too, or just when we have to see him at dinner?”

  My mom’s eyes had snapped open and her face became pale. “You’ve seen him coming to my room?”

  I nodded my head. “If he sleeps in bed with you, why can’t we have bedrooms upstairs? Byron says the staff has to stay down here and that’s what we are, so why would Mr. Mason want to sleep with you?” My innocent mind did not understand what I said sounded so wrong.

  I watched my mom’s face flush as she got up to walk away. Even then, I knew there was a reason he was sneaking into her room, and it wasn’t to play cards.

  I would later learn that Victor had been pursuing my mom for a few months before my grandmother passed away. He had been at the house to collect rent, had taken one look at Mom, and become infatuated. He had been collecting the rent from that point on. His wife was barely in the ground, and he was already shopping for his next one. When my grandmother died, and we had no way to pay for the rest of the rent, Victor took this as his opportunity. He wanted my mother as his mistress until an appropriate grieving period had passed for his late wife and disguised her as the nanny for the benefit of me and Byron. My mom later explained that he had something over her and had threatened to expose it in a very public way if she didn’t agree. She only had one condition: That he gave me all the advantages that came with his wealth and name. She even signed a prenup giving up any claims to his fortune should they divorce. All she wanted was a better life for me. Boy, she had no idea she was signing a deal with the devil.

  At first, I felt sorry for Byron and even tried to ignore the way he treated me, offering him kindness. I could see how he adored and worshipped his mother’s memory and my mom was an imposter in his eyes. I was also a direct competitor for attention from the only living parent he had left. He didn’t understand that I never wanted that attention. I still don’t, but there was only so much I let slide out of compassion for his pain. My own feelings for him quickly turned as bitter and corrosive as his.

  I blamed Jake Cameron for so long, believing he was a coward for not fighting harder to keep us there. I also blamed him for not looking for us and allowing me to keep my promise to Cruz. What I didn’t know was that he had wanted to keep us there, but my mom was the one who asked him to let us go.

  My mom was not a perfect person, but looking back now, I can see how she thought she was making choices that would give me a better life, especially since she sacrificed her own. Mom didn’t just leave her life behind when she left that side of the tracks, she left her heart too. This is something I don’t know how to tell Cruz because I’m not sure what that knowledge would do to his dad. Jake has probably suffered enough, and nothing good would come from him knowing the truth now.

  No, some things are better left dead.

  I must have passed out during the night, even though I was half listening for any noises that would alert me to Byron trying to get into my room. I knew it was only a matter of time before he would come looking for me after I humiliated him in front of his friends and half the senior class. The sun was just trickling through the edges of my curtains, and the house was silent. I stretched the kinks from my back and sat up, still wearing the clothes I had on last night. Knowing the only way, I can armor myself for whatever is waiting for me beyond my bedroom door, is a shower and fresh clothes, I head to my bathroom to tackle the one thing in my control right now.

  After I’m dressed in a pair of leggings and a long sweater, my hair knotted in a damp pile on top of my head, I take a deep breath and unlock my door. The hallway is quiet. Byron’s and Victor’s rooms are down at the end of the hall, and I make a quick dash to the stairs and slip down on silent feet, not knowing who could lurk at the bottom. I sigh in relief when I spot the way is clear, and pad quietly to the kitchen, but pause just outside the entrance and listen for signs of life before I enter. All is quiet, so I move into the room thinking I’m alone.

  A disheveled and haggard body sits at the end of a long table that dominates the far wall. With his head in his hands, Byron mumbles, “You’re not as stealthy as you think. I heard you sneaking down the stairs.”

  Great. I move over to the fridge and open it to get a bottle of water. Feeling bad about the way he looks; I offer an olive branch. “Water?”

  He looks up at me with his eyes squinted but nods his head slowly. I grab another bottle from the fridge and tentatively approach where he’s still regarding me. I hand him the water, and when he accepts it with no nasty comments, I pull out a chair and sit down warily across from him. “You okay?”

  He rubs the cold bottle against his forehead and eyes me suspiciously. “I’ve been better.”

  I look around the destroyed kitchen and cringe. The cleaners will hate us this morning. Good thing Victor isn’t due back until tonight. I look back at him, and he now has the cap off and is guzzling the water. Since he seems to be too hungover to attack me, I go on the offensive. “Look, about last night--”

  “Don’t,” he hisses at me through clenched teeth.

  I try again. “I only wanted to say I’m sorry for doing that the way I did.”

  He glares at me. “You mean the way you verbally grabbed my balls and tossed them over your shoulder in front of the kids I’ve been protecting you from? Is that the way you mean?”r />
  I straighten in my seat and meet his glare with one of my own. “Protecting me? Is that what you call the way you’ve been humiliating me and treating me like the shit beneath your shoe?”

  He drops his head down and massages it with his hand not holding the bottle of water. “Yes. You have no idea what you’ve undone. We may be enemies in this house, but I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you outside of these walls. I’m not a fucking monster, contrary to what you think.”

  I feel my mouth drop open and then snap it shut. He doesn’t bother looking up after dropping that little bomb between us, so I test it for possible triggers. “I don’t think you’re a monster, but you’re no hero either, so don’t paint yourself as one. You’ve never gone out of your way to be kind to me, so don’t act like you’ve been doing me any favors.”

  He laughs quietly, but with no humor. “You’re really something, you know that? For a chick who’s boning the old man, you don’t know dick about the guys you go to school with. I’m thinking maybe you really are a virgin and Dad is preserving your maidenhood like a holy grail.”

  I can feel my molars grind before I growl out, “I’m not having a sexual relationship with your dad! That is beyond gross on so many levels, and you’re a pig for ever thinking it.”

  He groans and grabs his head. “Fuck, princess, keep your voice down. Fine, whatever. I don’t care, anyway.” He sighs and tips his head back while pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dad asked me to protect you from the guys at school, right around the time your tits popped out. He told me if anyone touched you, or you encouraged them, it was my ass on the line. But as the years went on and you became, well, you, it was all I could do to keep their attention on the other chicks. I had to make you sound as unappealing as possible while threatening bodily harm. Now you’ve thrown it all away because your panties are damp, and you suddenly want to wave them around like a damn flag for the bulls. Well, mission accomplished. I hope you enjoy reaping what you’ve sown, sister.”

  I’m so disgusted by the vulgar way he speaks, but I’m left slightly off-kilter with the meaning behind his crude words. Is it possible he was protecting me in his own way? I can’t wrap my head around that scenario, so I ignore it. I’ve become an expert in ignorance. I uncap my water, intending to take a sip, but venture a question first. “Does this mean you’ll stop spreading lies about me now and looking down your nose at me?”

  His head slowly comes forward, a hard look etched on his face. “Not even close. If I’m taking the fall for this, then I will make your life a living hell. If dad punishes me for anything you do, you’d better practice how to please a man from your knees, because I’ll be expecting you to sweeten his disposition.”

  I know they say you shouldn’t poke a bear, but he brings out the worst in me. “Or what?”

  He smiles, but it’s one of the coldest smiles I have ever seen in my life. “Dad’s not the only one who knows how to collect dirt on people. How much is your mom’s reputation worth to you?”

  I can feel the ice freezing in my veins. I don’t know what he thinks he has on my mom, but I know Victor had something over her, so it’s possible Byron snooped hard enough to discover it. I don’t think my mom lead such a sordid life there’s more than one skeleton she was hiding, but there is no way I want to take the risk. As long as I keep my v-card intact, everyone should be happy. It’s not like that’s something I am anxious to change the status of, but that should be MY choice. And unless they plan on having me examined by a gynecologist, it’s not something they can prove or disprove. Knowing Victor, I wouldn’t put that past him, though. The thought causes a shudder to work its way through my body.

  I stand from the chair and clutch the bottle of water in my hand. I return my own version of a cold smile at Byron, and I say with quiet menace, “My body is not a chew toy between you and your dad.”

  He looks at me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “There’s a thought. Maybe if it was me who claimed your golden pussy, Dad might offer me a reward instead of a punishment.”

  I almost gag at what he’s suggesting. “You’re disgusting!”

  He shrugs his shoulder. “It’s not like you’re my real sister. I’m willing to take one for the team.”

  I have no words left. They have all dried in my mouth. I don’t think he’s serious, but I’m not willing to stand here and have this discussion with him. I spin on my foot and sprint from the room, his laughter echoing behind me.

  I have to last until February. Five months from now, I’ll be eighteen. Screw the other deal my mom made with Victor. I’ll make my own future.

  I had Carla come and get me after my little interaction with Byron. I spent the rest of the day, and into the evening, watching movies with her and avoiding any thoughts of home or Cruz. It was a blissful day of avoidance.

  I snuck into the house before curfew and escaped to my room without a confrontation with either of the men who live there. I got everything ready for school the next day and fell into bed. Still exhausted from the emotional ordeal the night before, sleep came for me upon swift wings.

  Monday morning was another success in escaping the house unscathed. I set my alarm earlier than usual so I would be up and ready before Byron even crawled out of bed, and Victor’s car was already gone from the driveway. Carla had agreed to get me earlier that morning. We even convinced Steph to get up early with us. We snagged a table at the Starbucks by the school before the morning swarm hit and fueled ourselves with coffee and gossip.

  Feeling the perks of the extra caffeine, I’m walking with an extra bounce in my step as I head for the building where my first-period class is. Steph and Carla have already headed off in the opposite direction. There is one main building and five smaller buildings that cover the extensive grounds of Haventree Prep. In my freshman year, I was overwhelmed and got lost more times than I care to remember.

  I’m turning the corner for the side door to the building, when I hear the pounding of feet behind me. I normally would just keep my head down and continue walking, but there’s awareness in my senses, alerting me to who I couldn’t possibly know is behind me, but somehow do.

  “Jo! Wait-up.” I know who it is before he speaks, but to hear the shortened version of my name in a voice that still has a faint trace of familiarity, has me sucking in a breath.

  When I turn, I’m greeted with the sight of Cruz in a Haventree uniform - wearing it better than most. It’s an ensemble of pressed tan pants, a starched white dress shirt with a red and white tie (our school colors), and a navy blazer with the school crest on the pocket. Why does he have to be so gorgeous? It would have been easier for me if he hadn’t grown into such an attractive package. My hormones are far too aware of him physically, while my heart is still clinging to the boy he was. It has me confused and feeling awkward around him in a way I never was as a child.

  He stops to catch his breath. like he was running far and fast before reaching me. He treats me to a warm smile and says, “I wanted to let you know I told my dad about finding you. I thought he would cry; he was so happy.” My heart squeezes at the mention of his dad. “He also gave me shit for telling you to pretend you don’t know me,” he whispers sheepishly.

  I bite my lip to stop the smile at that news, but release it to tell him, “It’s okay. I told you I understood.”

  He’s shaking his head before I finish speaking. “No, that was beyond rude and I’m surprised you didn’t slap me for even suggesting it. I finally find you after all these years, then I tell you to pretend you don’t even know me. I can’t believe I did that to you. I never thought of myself as a coward, but I guess I am.”

  Sympathy for the honest way he’s berating himself over something that really wasn’t that bad (okay, it was), has me reaching my hand out and laying it on his arm. “Hey, you’re not a coward. You’ve got a lot riding on this and seeing me must have been a shock. You were protecting yourself, not being a coward.”

  He moves into my personal space and looks down i
nto my eyes. “Jo, do you have any idea what seeing you did to me? I’ve never forgotten you, and I’ve dreamed about finding you again one day. I used to picture what you would look like,” he shakes his head, then speaks to my heart when he says, “but my imagination was nothing compared to reality. You’re even more beautiful than I remember. I could barely breathe when I realized it was you.” I close my eyes, not wanting him to see how much his words are affecting me. This is the reunion I always pictured in my secret heart. “You were the single, most important person in my world, and I’ve missed you every single day.”

  A tear escapes the confines of my closed eyes, and I blink them open attempting a smile for him, so he doesn’t think my tear is born of sadness. With a shaky voice, I confess, “My memories of you have been the only good things in my life since the day I lost you. I never thought I’d see you again either, and that was the hardest part of each day for me. I wanted to run away and come back to you so many times. Seeing you now is like a dream I never dared to have.”

 

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