by Bella Jewel
“Tell her.” Diesel chuckles. “Fuck, tell her!”
“She was sitting there, in a skirt, her underwear on display for my father to see. She was giggling like a school girl, flicking her hair around. But that wasn’t the worst part. No. The worst part was she was stroking her panties. Stroking her fucking panties.”
“Oh, my God!” I burst out laughing.
“Mack is such a stud.” Matilda giggles. “She just couldn’t help herself.”
“My own fucking father, and she’s there, stroking her fucking panties trying to get his attention. The look on his face, though. Priceless.”
“Tell her what he said when you walked in.” Mercy laughs, doubling over.
“He said, ‘It was very nice to meet you, Jessica. It would seem you have something wrong with your panties. I hear Wal-Mart is open all evening, perhaps you should get yourself some new ones.’”
I am laughing so hard now there are tears running down my cheeks. “God. Such class!”
“It was horrifying,” Jack mutters. “When she finally realised I was in the room, she slammed her legs closed and acted all innocent. Bitch didn’t even kiss me that night.”
“Aw, Jacky boy.” Diesel chuckles. “Now we know why you’re so messed up.”
Jack flips his older brother off.
I scoot closer and put a hand on his arm, still laughing. “Don’t worry, Jack, I think you’re just perfect.”
He looks to me, and his eyes soften. “You do?”
I stop laughing and hold his eyes. “Yeah,” I say softly.
“Want to go for a walk?”
My cheeks flush. “Yeah.”
“Oh, God!” Molly claps happily. “They’re goin’ to get it on!”
Jack rolls his eyes at her, stands, takes my hand, and we disappear down the beach.
So far, this night is perfection.
I wouldn’t change a single thing about it.
~*~*~*~
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Jack asks me as we sit in the sand, the waves lapping over our feet.
His fingers are curled in mine, a gesture he did as soon as we sat down. I didn’t mind, because it’s so simple, and yet so incredibly sweet and touching. His big hand engulfs one of mine. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that kind of comfort. That kind of safety.
“I’d go to Scotland.”
“Let me guess ...” He squeezes my hand. “In hopes of finding the one and only Jamie Fraser?”
I giggle. “Well, he did help me make my decision, I won’t lie, but no, I’ve always wanted to go. Those old castles. The scenery. That accent. I love it all. It fascinates me.”
“I agree, it would be an amazing place to visit.”
“What about you?” I ask him, loving the warm water that keeps rising up and splashing over my toes, sinking them further and further into the sand.
“I’d go somewhere like Egypt, or Rome. I have a fascination with all that old stuff.”
I giggle at his use of some of history’s greatest achievements. Old stuff.
“What?” he asks, grinning over at me.
“Old stuff.”
He chuckles. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do, and I agree. It would be amazing to see.”
“One day, when I get enough money saved up, I’ll do it. I’ll travel, and I’ll see the world.”
“Do you ever want to just settle down?” I ask him. “A family, kids?”
He studies my face, and then answers with an honest, “If you asked me six months ago, I would have said no. I was living the party life, girls, alcohol, no care in the world but, honestly, it was just that, a great big fuckin’ party. There was nothing serious. Nothing real. Nothing to hang onto. Until I met you, I didn’t think I wanted anything serious in my life.”
My heart flutters.
“And yet you’re the one girl I just can’t have.”
His voice, his words, they make my heart ache. I want to give Jack what he needs. I do. But right now, with Rae and my past, I just can’t be what he needs me to be. I’m too messed up. Aren’t I? I mean, do people ever truly recover from that kind of trauma? Would I always be afraid? Would I make him think he could do nothing right? What if we fought? Would I be afraid? So many terrifying questions run through my head, and I just don’t know how to explain any of them to him.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
It’s the only thing I can think of.
“Are you ever going to tell me why?” he asks me, and I can hear the disappointment and pain in his voice.
“Maybe, but it won’t change anything. I’m ... I’m troubled, Jack. I’m not the kind of girl you want to settle down with. I’m not the girl you forever with.”
“Who told you that?” he asks me, stroking a thumb over the back of my hand. “Worse, who let you believe that about yourself?”
“You don’t know all of me. You’ve barely scratched the surface.”
“Then tell me the worst of you. Tell me the worst, most horrible thing about you, that makes you unworthy of love and affection?”
I answer him without hesitation. “I’m weak.”
It’s obviously not the answer he was expecting, because he reels back and stares at me with such confusion and shock, that it takes him a moment to form words. “That’s it?” he says, in a soft, somewhat horrified tone. “That’s the worst of you?”
“Believe me, it might not seem like a lot, but I can promise you it is. I’m fragile. I’m weak. I’m a broken girl. Please don’t try and be a hero and come in with super glue to fix my broken pieces. I’m not fixable, Jack. Trust me when I say at some point, somewhere down the track, my weakness would affect you. It would affect any marriage. It would affect children.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe that you can’t live a happy, normal life just because you think you’re weak.”
“Trust me,” I say, pulling my hand from his. “And please, can we talk about something else?”
He sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and then nods. “Of course.”
We sit in silence for a long while, and I focus on trying to calm my pounding heart. I hate that I had to say those words to Jack, especially after he’s been so nice to me, but the fact of the matter is, it’s who I am. I’m not equipped to be what he needs. He sees something in me, I know he does, but what he sees is an illusion.
I can’t let him keep that.
Eventually, I had to shatter it.
CHAPTER 19
THEN – MADDIE
“York, please, stop!” I cry, pressing my hands over my ears to drown out Rae’s piercing screams.
“She can fucking well go without, the little slut!” he bellows, hammering her door shut. “No sister of mine will be out on the street, slutting around.”
“She was just out with friends,” I try, hating the sound of Rae’s pained cries, her pleading.
“No, she was out spreading her filthy fucking legs, that’s what she was doing. Don’t you fucking defend her, Maddie.”
I shrink when he turns around, pinning me with a glare. I fold into myself, knowing if I argue further, he’ll be locking me in the room next.
“Please, York, it hurts,” Rae begs, pounding her fists on the door.
A young girl, addicted to drugs, sleeping around. My heart splits in two at the very sight of her, let alone the thought that her life has gone down the toilet. How can she ever be normal again after this? What was a couple of fun “bonding” times with her brother, has now turned into a full blown addiction, and she’s doing whatever she can to get her fix. Including sleeping with random men.
“You should have fuckin’ thought of that then. You will not run my name into the mud by fucking offering your body up for drugs!”
“Then just give me some, please,” she begs. “Please. Give them to me and I’ll never go out.”
“Like fuck. You got yourself into this mess, now you’ll ge
t yourself out of it. You keep screaming, I’ll give you something to fucking scream about.”
“York!” she tries again. “Please.”
He hammers another nail into the plank of wood he’s shoved over her door. She has no way out, even if she wanted to. He’s nailed her window shut. He did this to her, and now he’s punishing her for it. He took away her innocence. He introduced her to drugs. And now he has the nerve to say she’s running his name into the dirt.
“Please,” I try, my voice so soft I can barely hear it myself. “Let her out.”
York shoots daggers in my direction. “Do you want a repeat of last night?”
I stare down at my bruised arms. I can feel my battered lip. My spine aches from where I hit the wall when he abused me. No, I do not want a repeat of last night. I don’t want to feel the pain of his hands on my body, of his fists on my face. I know I should fight, for Rae, for myself, but I’m too afraid. Too broken. Too pathetic.
So I don’t fight, I just shrink down the hallway and listen to the sounds of his sister screaming, of her pleading, of his angry voice as he threatens her. I wonder if the neighbours can hear this? If they can, why haven’t they called the police? What hasn’t someone come and helped us? Why are people so afraid to help others? Maybe if they had stepped up, and done something, we wouldn’t be here.
Who am I to blame them?
This isn’t their fault.
This is my fault.
I let him turn into a monster. I didn’t see it coming. I avoided what was right in front of me. Maybe if I had helped him earlier, insisted he saw someone, did something instead of being so damned weak and afraid, we wouldn’t be in this mess? Right. Isn’t this my fault? Did I turn a man who I swear once loved me, into this raging monster?
Did I?
Dammit. Did I?
~*~*~*~
“Shhh,” I whisper, pressing a wet cloth to Rae’s head. “Don’t make too much noise or he’ll come in here, and if he comes in here, we’ll both suffer.”
“This is all your fault,” Rae groans at me, clutching her stomach. “If you didn’t argue with him, if you had just shut your mouth, none of this would have ever happened.”
“It’s not my fault, Rae. I didn’t introduce him to drugs, and I didn’t give them to you.”
“Where were you, though? When he was doing that? Why didn’t you stop him? You’re an adult. This is all your fault.”
My heart twists as I keep washing down her face. Is she right? Should I have done something more? If I wasn’t so timid, maybe I could have put my foot down and stopped York. Maybe I could have taken her and gotten us out when I realised he was using drugs. Maybe I could have done something, anything, to help her.
Instead I sat, thinking I could ignore it, and then thinking I could fix it.
Is this my fault?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and my nose stings as tears burn the back of my throat. “I’m so sorry, I promise you I’ll get us out of this. I’ll never leave you alone, Rae. I won’t.”
“I hate you,” she spits, and I want to pray it’s the lack of drugs talking.
But in reality, I’d hate me too.
“Maybe you do, but you need to trust me, okay? Stop winding him up. Until I can figure something out, I need you to just stop. Can you please do that for me?”
“I need a fix,” she says, her bloodshot eyes hitting mine. “Will you get me that, and then I’ll do whatever you ask?”
I might be weak, but I’m not stupid.
I won’t, will not, give her drugs.
“No, no I won’t do that. I’m sorry, Rae. You need to stop. You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you.”
“You bitch,” she seethes. “You said you’d do anything for me.”
“I won’t give a young girl drugs. I’m sorry.”
“Then I won’t stop. I know what it does to you when he hurts me. If you want to see that.”
“Don’t,” I say, my voice a little firmer than it has been in a long while. “Don’t threaten me. I live through this hell every day, too. I’m doing my best to protect you. If you want to throw yourself in his fire pit, then you can go right ahead, but I won’t be coerced into giving you want you want.”
She glares at me, but I know, I know she won’t put herself in his way. Because beneath the anger the drugs have created, she’s as scared of him as I am. And that fear controls her, just as it controls me, even if she doesn’t see it, or refuses to admit it.
“Leave me be. I’d rather be alone than have you here, pretending like you care about me.”
I won’t play into this. I won’t. I know what she’s trying to do, she’s playing on the weakest parts of me, the parts she knows are fragile, because she wants me to give her what she wants, but I can never do that. I may not have the strength to do a lot of things right, but I will not give anyone drugs. I will not turn anyone into the monsters I see before me daily.
“You need to drink some water,” I say, ignoring her spiteful words.
I place a plastic bottle beside her bed.
“Get the fuck out, Maddie. I hate you.”
“Make sure you drink that,” I continue, ignoring her. “And keep putting this cool cloth on your head.”
“Don’t pretend you know how to help me, or that you even want to. Get the fuck out.”
“There are two painkillers by the water. I’m not giving you anymore. That’s all you’ll be receiving for the night. I’ll put more in later.”
“Get out,” she spits again.
“I have to lock the door. If I don’t, he’ll know I came in here.”
“I don’t fucking care,” she groans, rolling to her side. She’s pale as a ghost. “I hope he beats some sense into you.”
It’s the drugs talking.
It is.
“Okay,” I murmur, turning and walking out of the room.
I glance back at her one more time before I go, and my heart aches. Such a young girl, wasting away. What happened to the older brother that would do anything for her? The man that would protect her from anything? Where did he go? Because really, that’s the only thing that could ever fix her now. Deep inside, I know it feels like her heart has been ripped out.
The only family she knows has turned on her.
She has nobody left in the world.
And she knows it.
CHAPTER 20
NOW – BAYLEE
“Oh. Jack.”
Big arms glide up mine, helping me with the ropes as the sail boat glides across the water effortlessly, like it was made just for this purpose, like nothing Mother Nature could throw at it would stop it from doing its job. It’s the most incredible feeling in the whole world, to feel so free, to be somewhere where nobody can find you, where nobody can touch you.
It’s just the ocean, the boat, and you.
“It’s pretty incredible, isn’t it,” Jack says, tugging my left arm to lead us in a different direction.
“How long did it take you to learn this?” I ask, letting my body go slack as he uses his body to show mine how to work the boat.
The boat itself is quite large, more than able to fit all of us on it comfortably. It has a small cabin below, where we stored some food, and enough room on the deck for everyone to lounge around. I’m not sure I’d even call it just a sailboat, because it seems so much larger than the ones I’ve seen in pictures.
“My dad taught me when I was a kid, and every year I’d get better and better until eventually I’d be the one operating while they all kicked back with a beer.”
I laugh. “Typical.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “But I didn’t mind. I was happy to do it. I love it. It’s definitely a passion of mine.”
“How come you live so far away from the ocean then? You could do it, you know?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “I want to, but all my family is there, and, well, I don’t like the idea of being out here on my own.”
“Aw.” I nudge him a little
. “Anyone would think you have a soft side.”
He grunts. “Don’t tell anyone, or I’d have to throw you overboard, and that would be a damned shame because you look so fucking beautiful in that dress.”
My cheeks heat as I glance down at the white halter dress I’m wearing over my swimmers. It flows in the breeze, occasionally blowing up a little high, but it’s a dress I’ve wanted to wear for so long and never really had an occasion to.
“You look pretty nice yourself,” I say softly. “Although, those white shorts ...”
He pinches me lightly. “Hey now. Leave the shorts alone. They’re pretty incredible.”
I giggle.
I won’t tell him, but he does look good in them. Jack would look good in anything.
“Look at you two up there,” Molly sighs from her position lying in front of Roman with her head on his lap. “Like angels, wearing all that white. You’re a photographer’s dream right now.”
I blush and Jack flips her off. “Careful, Mol. That water looks extra refreshing.”
“Roman wouldn’t let you throw me in, would you?” she says, squeezing Roman’s leg.
“Absolutely I would,” he says, giving her a wink. “But I’d come in and get you ... eventually.”
“You’re such a jerk. I don’t know why I like you sometimes.”
“We’ve already established that it’s my charm and good looks,” he says, tangling his fingers into her hair and leaning down, pressing his lips against hers.
“Aw,” Jack says. “Gag.”
“Just because she’s getting kissed and you’re not,” Matilda calls, rolling over to sun her back. “Don’t be a hater, Jack.”
“You’re going in the water next.”
“I’d never let them throw you in,” TJ says, giving Jack a glare.
Roman snorts.
Molly laughs.
I’m missing something.
TJ is a bit of a girl. I can’t deny it. He’s more feminine then most of the women here ... combined. I have to wonder what Matilda sees in him. I mean, the man has the personality of a wet sponge. Surely conversations with him must get tiring eventually? After all, what could they talk about? He’s not deep in any way. Maybe they talk about hair?