by Hart, Rebel
By the time I’d read through all those articles, I actually felt hope surge through my veins.
Maybe I can do this after all.
My stomach growling pulled me from my trance, so I slipped my phone back into my pocket. I gathered my things and walked back the same way I came, then slipped into the grocery store. Rae’s grocery store. The one where all this bullshit started in the first place. I made my way to the deli and picked up a couple of sandwiches. Some fries. Even grabbed an energy drink from the machine. I felt people staring at me as I went through the line. The line Rae usually worked.
Only it wasn’t Rae behind the register.
And I found that I didn’t really like that.
You miss her.
I shook the thought away and walked my ass outside. I sat down on a bench near the front doors and tore into the food I’d bought. I wondered what Cecilia was doing. If she was worried about me. I wondered what she was thinking. If she was worried about the status of her marriage with my father. In my eyes? She needed to be more hellbent on taking care of herself. Finding a safe haven to run toward. Finding a way out of this hellhole. Because I knew my father would bring down hell on us all once he got out of that hospital.
She needed to take care of her own safety.
She’s staying behind for you.
I growled to myself. The last thing I needed was yet another innocent woman going to bat for me. Rae tried it, and it almost got her hurt. And I didn’t have the energy to push another good woman away. Cecilia had been a godsend. An adult who showed me what it really meant for a parent to care about a fucking child. I didn’t want to push her away. The easy route would be for her to pack her shit and leave me behind. I knew how to deal with that. I knew how to write people off the moment they abandoned me. Mostly. Kind of.
Except your own mother.
Holy shit, I was a fucked-up human being.
I finished my food and tried not to give my thoughts any more energy to grow. Now I needed to concentrate on getting home. Even though cooler temperatures were falling over the city, that didn’t stop the sun from beating down against our backs. Sweating me to my fucking core as I sat on the bench beside the sliding doors of the grocery store. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. Fucking hell, it was almost three o’clock.
You’ll need a ride to get home on time.
I searched for the taxi companies in the area before calling one up. I didn’t want to make an Uber account and have to use it or anything. Because if I did, Dad would know I hadn’t been in school. He’d see that charge to the credit card and flip his fucking nozzle. As if he didn’t already do that, anyway. The last thing I needed was any more of a reason for my father to want me dead. Because I’d done enough to warrant him killing me.
I found myself dreading the moment that he got home from that hospital.
I ordered the taxi, and thirty minutes later it showed up. I rattled off my address and the man drove me home. And I just gave him the thirty bucks I still had left over from lunch. I didn’t care how much the trip cost. I didn’t care how much I was overpaying him by. The only thing I cared about was whether or not Dad was home. Whether or not I’d open this door and feel his wrath beating against my body.
Literally.
Until I bled to death.
I drew in a deep breath. As the taxi pulled away, I started for the front door. I opened it up and walked inside, bracing for my father’s voice. But when I heard Cecilia yelp, I whipped my head up.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Her hand pressed against her chest. “You scared the living daylights out of me, Clint.”
I closed the door. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just me.”
I saw her book on the floor. She scrambled for it, trying to right herself on the couch again. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide from the shock. My heart ached for her. How scared she was for my father to come home. But, when she lifted her eyes to meet mine again, the fear melted away. And replacing it was this cool sort of strength I’d come to learn she possessed.
A trait I envied quite a bit.
“How was your day?”
Her voice ripped me from my thoughts. “Uh, good.”
“Did you make it to school?”
I nodded slowly. “Yep. I did.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“You want to try one more time?”
And when she grinned, I shook my head.
“No, I didn’t make it to school.”
She nodded. “I was home when the school called and told me you were absent from roll call in homeroom.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever known you to linger in this house.”
“I’ve never had a reason to, until now.”
I chuckled. “Waiting for Dad and his wrath to come wafting through the door?”
Her face stayed serious. “No. Waiting for you.”
Her words clenched my heart. It became hard to breathe. I’d never had someone do that for me. Hang around all day, waiting for me. I didn't know how to process that. How to feel about it.
I drew in a deep breath. “I’m worried about you.”
Cecilia nodded. “I’m worried about you, too.”
“I didn't mean to scare you or anything.”
“You didn’t. I know you can handle yourself. I figured you went on a walk into town, or something.”
“I did.”
“So… how’s town?”
I snickered. “It’s town. How was your day at the house?”
“It was… a day at the house.”
I nodded. “It’s not like you to hang around here like this. Just… sitting here and biding your time.”
“I suppose we’re all changing, in a way.”
“How so?”
“Well, for one, you stood up for yourself. In a way I’ve never seen you do. I mean, I expected it eventually. But I didn’t expect it to be for anyone other than yourself. Not only did you stand up to your father, but you did it for my sake. You’ve grown a lot, Clinton.”
I didn’t wince when she called me by my first name. “I guess that happens as life goes on.”
“You shouldn't have to worry about your father, though. About whether or not he’s home. You leave him to me. I’ll figure this out.”
“You know I’m not going to do that.”
She got up from the couch. “I know you’re not. But that isn’t going to stop me from reminding you that it isn’t your duty as the child of this house to meddle in adult affairs like this.”
“I’ve been meddling in adult affairs ever since my father started using his hands to parent.”
I watched as Cecilia approached me. She stood in front of me, clad in a pristine royal blue dress with dainty white gold jewelry peppering her body. Her makeup looked like perfection. Her hair was completely straight and pulled back, with wisps falling into her face. She reached her hand up and cupped my cheeks, flooding my body with warmth.
A warmth I only had memories of when it came to my mother.
“You’ve been through a lot in your life, Clint. And while I’m not your mother, that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you.”
I closed my eyes. “I know.”
“My only regret is that I didn’t step in sooner. That I never stopped your father from—”
“It’s not your fault.”
“No, it’s not. But, I have a responsibility in all this. I knew what was taking place, and I never did anything to stop it. Or report it. That’s on me, Clint. Part of where you’re standing right now is on—is—uh—”
The second she drew in a shuddering breath, I wrapped my arms around her. I pulled my stepmother closely into me and felt her arms drape around me. Her warmth brought tears to my eyes. Memories of my mother came flooding back to the forefront of my mind. Memories of my mother caring for me. Rocking with me. Loving me and cherishing me and singing to me as she held me close.
I buried my face in Cecilia’s hair, trying to cling to this feeling. To the idea that someone even remotely akin to a parent could actually give a shit about me.
I sighed. “Please don’t cry.”
She nodded quickly and sniffled.
“Well, um, dinner’s in the oven. And you smell like you need a shower.”
She pulled away from me as I chuckled softly.
“I suppose I don’t smell the greatest.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You really don’t. Go get cleaned up, and when you’re done, dinner will be ready.”
I reached out and wiped a stray tear off her cheek. I saw the pain and the guilt flooding Cecilia’s eyes. I’d never seen her like this. So downtrodden and… and sad. Just plain sadness. It hurt me, truly. Because through all this, I’d come to see how incredible of a woman she really was. Strong, steadfast, dedicated, and actually intelligent. Broken, like me. In a lot of ways due to her family. Like me.
I stroked her cheek. “I’m proud to call you my stepmother.”
She snickered. “And I hope, one day, I earn the honor of calling you my stepson.”
She quickly turned on her bare feet and padded back into the kitchen, leaving me there to hurt even more. The fact that she didn’t feel she could call me her stepson hurt. Especially after everything that had happened. Everything she’d helped me through. But I knew she said that because she felt guilty. Not because I’d done anything wrong.
So I dragged myself upstairs and got myself cleaned up for dinner.
I stepped into the shower with aches and pains in places on my body I didn’t know existed. When I came out of the shower, wonderful smells filled my nostrils. I smelled basil and honey. Starches and gravy. I smelled butter and blueberries and sugar in the air. It pulled me downstairs. I went down for dinner in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and an old, ragged black shirt.
And I found dinner sprawled out on the kitchen table. With two place settings.
“We’re eating at the table?”
Cecilia set our drinks down. “Why not?”
I paused. “I don't know. I’m just not—used to having family dinner. I guess.”
She snickered. “Well, I’m not your father. I like eating with family. So get used to it is all I can tell you.”
And when she winked at me, it made me smile. Truly smile, for the first time since yesterday evening.
“I can do that,” I said.
6
Raelynn
I didn’t want to go, but I gave my word. During my last period, Michael and Allison both pressured me to join them for dinner tonight. Sushi, apparently. I didn’t feel like going out, though. I didn’t feel like joining them for anything. I wanted to run myself a bath, get into the pathetic tub and cry my eyes out while indulging in a bag full of cookies. But they were my friends and I knew they were trying their best to cheer me up.
So I promised them I’d be there.
Michael wanted to pick me up, but I refused. I’d get there somehow. Some way. I pulled on an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then threw my hair up into a bumpy ponytail. I looked like a hazard zone. The bags underneath my eyes were more prominent than ever and my skin looked pale. Well, paler than it usually was. I sighed as I walked away from the mirror, making my way downstairs.
“Where you headed?”
I paused at the sound of D.J.’s voice.
“Sweetheart?” Mom asked.
I sighed. “Heading out to dinner with Michael and Allison.”
D.J. snickered. “You aren’t going to eat dinner with me and your mother? She’s been cooking.”
I slowly turned around. “No, I’m not. I’ll be back around eight or so.”
“Where are you headed for dinner? So we know where you are.”
“Not your responsibility to know where I am.”
Mom sighed. “Please, just answer his question.”
I glared at her. “Just because you put up with his antics so our bills get paid doesn’t mean I have to.”
Mom gasped. “Excuse me?”
D.J. stood up from the couch. “You apologize to your mother.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks. No apologies needed for the truth, no matter how hard it is to hear.”
“You get over here right now so we can have a talk. Your attitude has been atrocious lately.”
“Pretty big word for a drug dealer.”
Mom shot up from her seat. “You take that back right now, young lady.”
“Do as your mother says.”
I shrugged. “Sorry that I brought up a rumor on the street.”
D.J. lunged at me and I dropped my purse. I was ready for a fucking fight. I was ready to take this asshole down with nothing but my hands. Mom held him back, talking softly in his ear as my nostrils flared in anger. I silently dared him with his eyes. Dared him to come at me. To lay his hands on me.
I’d get his ass thrown in jail and we’d all be rid of this fucker.
When the two of them sat back down on the couch, D.J. snuggled my mother. Ran his hands over her thighs. I watched her kiss his neck and it made me sick to look at. I picked up my purse and stormed out of the house, making my way for my bike. And as I threw my leg over the rusted piece of shit, I made my way into town.
Straight for the sushi place.
I parked my bike, but didn’t have anything to tie it off. So I simply tossed the hunk of rust down onto the sidewalk and made my way inside. The breeze of the air conditioning felt good. I stood there for a second, letting it dry off the beads of sweat working their way down my face. And when I felt partially human again, I started meandering around the restaurant.
I found Michael and Allison in a booth.
“Shit, she’s here.”
“Hey, Rae!”
I quirked an eyebrow as the two of them leapt away from one another. I mean, Michael practically shoved Allison off his body. Their lips were red. Allison’s neck was flushed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d been doing in this back booth all by themselves.
It made me feel like the third wheel, though.
Which wasn’t how I wanted to spend my dinner.
I ordered my drink as Allison made room for me on the other side of her. But I saw how they had their hands intertwined in the darkness. It made me miss Clint. It made me want him here. I wanted someone to kiss. Someone to snuggle against. Someone’s hand to hold.
Specifically, his.
Michael whistled. “So what do you two want for dinner? It’s on me, by the way.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to do that.”
Allison giggled. “That’s so kind of you. Thank you.”
Michael chuckled. “Hey, it’s the least I can do.”
Allison smiled. “You do so much more than that, you know. You're just… very kind. In general. I like that.”
“Well, do you know what I like about you?”
I piped up. “What's that?”
The two of them looked at me before Allison’s cheeks flushed.
“Oh, sorry. Thought you were talking to me.”
I tossed them each a look before I buried myself back into the menu. I hated being that person. But I also wouldn't spend my entire dinner hour with them listening to their sickeningly, disgusting flirting back and forth. Yes, I was happy for them. But they had to respect what I was going through. Because if the tables were turned, I would’ve done the same damn thing.
Respected their circumstances.
The waiter came by and took our orders. Michael ordered for Allison and she giggled like the schoolgirl she was. I murmured my order before tossing the menu back to the waiter and thanking him for the extra water. I felt empty. Dead. Dark, deep within the pit of my soul. I didn’t understand this kind of hurt. I’d never experienced it before. I mean, with my father, it wasn’t my fault. He left well before I had any memories of him. But Clint?
Maybe I’d done something to push him away.
Maybe I
’m the reason he’s gone.
Michael cleared his throat. “So how’s that bike holding up?”
I whipped my head up. “Huh?”
Allison smiled softly. “Your bike. That’s how you got here, right?”
“Unless you took a taxi.”
“You know she hates taxis, Michael.”
“I mean, it’s an option. You never know.”
“You’re so silly.”
He smiled. “And you’re so cute.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I rode my bike. It’s a hunk of rusted junk, but it gets the job done.”
Allison giggled profusely. “That’s what she said.”
Michael snorted with laughter as I slowly panned my eyes over to her.
“What did you say?”
Allison smiled brightly. “Michael taught me those jokes. You know, using ‘that’s what she said’ behind a phrase that could technically be construed as… dirty.”
I snickered at the way she whispered ‘dirty.’ As if she’d be shot into the bowels of hell for saying it out loud.
“That was a good one, beautiful. Way to go.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Michael.”
Clint used to call me beautiful. “Well, it was a good one. Yes.”
“Thanks, Rae.”
Our food came and I entertained myself with eating. While Allison and Michael entertained themselves with, well, one another. They kept charging headfirst into conversations meant only for them. Which threw gasoline on the fire of my pain. When would this let up? When would it stop hurting so much? I mean, it’d only been one day. How the fuck was I supposed to keep putting one foot in front of the other and acting like things were okay if this was day one?
How did my two best friends expect me to sit here and watch them practically fondle one another when this was day one without Clint?
Every time they thought I wasn’t looking, they snuck a kiss or shared bites of their food. At least, I thought so. I thought maybe they thought I couldn't see them. Because if that wasn’t the case, then that meant they were blatantly making the conversation about them instead of including me.