Clutch

by S. M. West

  My response is on the tip of my tongue, yet my throat tightens, and my heart thunders against my rib cage. Fuck, saying it out loud isn’t easy.

  “It pisses me off,” I grind out, my jaw clenching so tight it makes my head throbs. “Hurts. Like I’m worthless.”

  “Worthless? How so?” Again, she’s curious at my choice of word, yet I’d bet she already has the answer.

  “I don’t matter.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat, flicking my eyes to the floor.

  Fuck, why did I come here? Because I want to talk about this. Because I want to put an end to this burning, all-consuming anger inside of me.

  “Tell me more,” she prompts, her voice soft and soothing.

  “My money is all they see and not their son.” I swallow hard and clasp my hands together with my head hung low.

  The ugly, gut-wrenching feeling sits low in my belly. Oppressive and suffocating. Then the anger comes and burns as it washes over me.

  “Talk to me, Silas.”

  “Why the fuck am I ashamed?” My voice is steely cold and my fists so tight that my knuckles are white and the veins in my forearms are pulsing and bulging. “I don’t get it.”

  “What don’t you get?”

  I’m starting to get tired of her questions, but I catch myself and recognize what it is that I’m doing. It’s my knee-jerk reaction to redirect my anger at whoever is in my vicinity. Dr. Wexford always said the first step was to acknowledge the anger and the need to lash out. Don’t give in to it, I am in control, but recognize it because then I can choose.

  “What happened to them? Between us? When did I become just a bank to them and nothing more? They don’t care about my music or the band. They haven’t asked once why I want to quit.”

  “If your parents were here right now, what would you say to them?”

  Lifting my head, I stare into her dark eyes that hold only patience and compassion.

  “What? I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know what you’d say to them? Really?” she pushes.

  “I’d say nothing. That’s what I always do.” Defeat floods my voice, and it disgusts me.

  “Okay. I’ve got some homework for you. Are you doing the exercises I’d given you to do?”

  “Sometimes, not every day like you told me. Only when I feel on edge.”

  Nodding, like she expected that answer, she says, “All right. I want you to do the exercises daily and also when you need it. And I want you to think about what you’d say to your parents. No holding back. Write it down and bring it next time you come. I’d like to see you next week.”

  “Okay.”

  We say our goodbyes, and as I walk to my car, I’m caught up in what I already know. Confronting them about their behavior is what strangles me. It stifles my air, redirecting and breathing life into my anger.

  I know what I want to say, but fear has me by the balls. It could change everything. It could end things.

  And as much as this hurts, as much as I want this to stop, I don’t know if I can ever say what I want to them for fear of losing them forever.

  “Hey, Pansy,” Daisy says, walking into my place with two shopping bags.

  We went to the doctor the other day and got a prescription for her nausea. The doctor says it will take a while to kick in, but she should start to feel better soon.

  Whether it’s a placebo and just knowing it will get better is helping or if it’s actually working, she seems to be handling the nausea and has decided to go on the final modeling shoot to Europe before her belly pops. After that, she will tell them that she’s pregnant and then everything will change for her.

  We’ve talked about getting a place together once she’s back, and while the idea is appealing, I’m also considering Silas’s. But I haven’t voiced my desire to anyone. Our lives are hectic, and I do miss him, a lot. Living together would make things easier, and in my mind, I’ve managed to rationalize that it wouldn’t be a hand-out if I contributed. Although I’m sure Silas wouldn’t accept it.

  “Hey. Great timing, dinner is ready.” I cut the frittata down the middle, placing one half on her plate and the other on mine.

  “Wow, this smells good. I’m starving.” She plops into the chair and begins to eat.

  “Silas is having a barbecue tomorrow and wants you to come. He’s also invited Vinny,” I say.

  “Great. What’s the occasion?”

  “There’s no special reason. He just wants to hang out, and he wants to get to know you and Vinny better.”

  Daisy has met Vinny and even come with him to take me to and from class. She is genuinely supportive of my pursuing marine biology and is interested in learning more. Her support is still all new to me, and at times, I still question if it’s real.

  “All right, sounds good. Did you ask him if he’ll take me to the airport?”

  “Yup, he will, and if for some reason it doesn’t work out, Jorge will.”

  “Great, thanks.” Daisy shovels the last bite into her mouth and eyes the food still on my plate.

  Before she can ask me for a bite, which is her new thing, there’s a knock at the door. Despite feeling queasy, Daisy’s hungry most of the time. She bounces from the table and swings open the door.

  Because my place is basically one big room, I’ve got a clear view of our uninvited guest. Ivy, my eldest sister, stands in a cream linen suit. Her open-toed kitten heels are an ocean blue and her strawberry blond hair falls past her shoulders, longer than the last time I saw her.

  She’s immaculately put together, every bit the neuro-surgeon you would want to manage your health.

  “Ivy,” Daisy and I say in unison. Our tones are both a mixture of surprise and dread.

  “Hello Daisy, Pansy.” She steps into my place, wheeling her silver Tumi carry-on behind her. Leaning in to air-kiss Daisy, before she does the same for me, she then stops in what is the center of my small apartment.

  “You live here?” Her voice drips with disdain, and shame threatens to drown me.

  Digging deep, I fight my usual pattern of slinking into the background while Ivy spews her crap. This is my place, my life, and she can’t just walk in and shit all over it.

  “If you don’t like it, you know where the door is.”

  “What are you doing here?” Daisy asks what I’m thinking.

  Ivy takes another cursory glance around the room, her features twisting like she smells shit, before resting on me. Having lost my appetite, I push away my plate and stand, folding my arms over my middle.

  “That was rude of me. It’s quaint.” Her compliment is a stretch and a struggle.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I wanted to visit, and I knew Daisy was here, so I thought now was as good a time as any.”

  “How did you know I was here?” Daisy asks.

  “Come on, Daisy, you’re smarter than that. Did you really think that I wouldn’t figure out why you wanted Pansy’s address? I didn’t fall for your ‘I want to send her a package,’ and when I called your agent, and he told me that you left weeks ago, I knew you were here.”

  “And? Why is what I do any of your concern?” Daisy sits on the couch and crosses her legs.

  “I’ve been meaning to come visit Pansy, see how she’s doing, and when I figured out you were here too… we haven’t seen each other in five years. Don’t you both think it’s been long enough?”

  There’s a hint of vulnerability in her tone, and I’m taken back. Ivy is a fortress, and stoic is the only way I know her, so to hear something else, something needing in her tone, softens me a bit.

  “It is good to see you.”

  “And you too, both of you. Although, Daisy, you look thinner and a touch peaked. Are you not well?”

  “I’m fine.” Daisy sits ramrod straight, and her eyes lock with mine. A plea for my help mushrooms in her deep blue eyes.

  “It seems you don’t have enough space,” Ivy says out of nowhere, glancing behind the screen to where m
y bed is. “I didn’t plan on staying in a hotel, but it looks like I’ll have to make arrangements.”

  “Sorry, if you’d told me you were planning to visit, I would have told you that. There are quite a few lovely places to stay, pass me your phone, and I’ll show you.”

  She hands over her phone, and within forty minutes, we have her booked in a luxury hotel not too far from here. Once that’s out of the way, Daisy makes some tea and the three of us sit quietly, and awkwardly, around my tiny living space.

  “Daisy, you live here too?” Ivy asks.

  “Yes. Pansy and I share the bed. It’s cozy.” Her joke has a tinge of sarcasm, but it is not directed at me.

  “Why are you here?” Ivy directs her question at Daisy, who now stiffens and darts her gaze to me. Ivy is shrewd and catches our brief shared look. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  I nibble on my lip and implore Daisy to tell Ivy with my stare. Daisy squirms, crossing and uncrossing her legs, while Ivy does her toe-tapping thing that she is so good at.

  “I’m pregnant,” Daisy blurts.

  Ivy jumps to her feet and glares at Daisy. “Seriously? How could you? This is the type of thing I expect from Pansy, not you.” That stings, and I clench my fists at her cruel comment. “You’re a model for Christ’s sake, you do realize you’ve messed up your career?”

  Her nose crinkles before she sticks it in the air and places her long, finely manicured hands on her hips. Daisy’s eyes shine with unshed tears, and I’m ticked. Usually, I would refuse to get involved. This is between them, and I don’t want any part of this, but that was the old me.

  “Ivy, she could still model after the baby is born. Her career isn’t over if she doesn’t want it to be.”

  Ivy scoffs, rolling her eyes at me as if I’ve just wasted my breath with nonsense. My chest pangs at her dismissive nature, but I know that it isn’t me per se, it’s just the way she is. She is always right, no matter what.

  “And the father? Do you even know who the father is? Will he help?” Ivy shoots her questions as if she’s at a firing range. Round after round, hoping for a bullseye.

  “Yes, and no,” Daisy says, now standing and squaring off with Ivy. “And my life isn’t ruined. I want the baby. I’m keeping it. This is my life and my choice. I didn’t come to you with this because I knew this would be your reaction. Your help and advice are not needed. Thank you very much.”

  “I’m only looking out for you,” Ivy says. “You think I want you to ruin your life? Come stay with me, and I’ll make sure you have the best OB there is.”

  “I’m staying here.”

  “Look around you.” Ivy waves her hand around the space and at me. “Do you really think you’re going to get the help and support you need? Don’t be foolish. Pansy can barely take care of herself.”

  “Ivy, that’s enough!” I shout, the heat rising from my chest into my neck and face. “If you can’t be supportive and you don’t have anything nice to say about Daisy or me, you can leave.”

  My finger points to the door, and I’m shaking. Ivy’s eyebrows rise, her eyes wide and mouth agape as she studies me. Smoothing her hands down the sides of her waist, she stands tall and relaxes her features.

  “Fine. I really am only trying to take care of you.”

  “Your kind of take care means to take charge,” Daisy says.

  Ivy sniffs, her finger wiping at an invisible tear at the corner of her eye. “What about you, Pansy? What’s new with you?”

  Slumping into the chair, I dig deep for the last bit of patience I might have. I will give this one last try, and proceed to tell Ivy about what I have been up to. Surprisingly, she keeps her mouth shut for most of it, and even perks up when I tell her about marine biology. I dare say I think I might have her approval with that choice, but the funny thing is, I no longer want it or need it.

  “That’s wonderful,” Ivy says as I finish up about my diving course and looking into registering at UCLA.

  “And she’s dating a rock star,” Daisy adds.

  “Daisy.”

  My irritation’s evident in my voice as I scold her for mentioning Silas. He isn’t a secret, but I deliberately left him out, knowing Ivy would have a problem with it.

  “Sorry.” Daisy’s hand covers her mouth, and her cheeks reddened at her faux pas.

  “A rock star?” Ivy arches a brow. “Care to elaborate?”

  “Just what Daisy said -- I’m dating a rock star, and I’m crazy about him.” I shrug, not caring what Ivy has to say. “Actually, you’ve met him. At the police station.”

  Her eyes darken with understanding. “I see.”

  “If you want, you can get to know him better tomorrow. We’re going to his house for a barbecue.”

  The invitation is the nice thing to do, but I cringe on the inside at the thought of Ivy and Silas talking. Silas isn’t a fan, and I highly doubt Ivy will be of him.

  “I’d love to,” is all she says on the topic of Silas.

  We spend another hour with Ivy before she decides to check in at her hotel. We make plans for the following day and Daisy and I spend the evening freaking out at the arrival of our older sister. We both pray her visit is short, knowing that it will be anything but sweet.

  “Wanna go for a swim?” I pop my head in the kitchen where Pansy and Lucia are making tortillas.

  I picked her up after her shift at Betty’s. While Pansy’s sisters are joining us later, as is Vinny, for about an hour I have her all to myself.

  Pansy turns, and I grin at the smudge of something white on her face. Unable to keep my hands to myself, I stroll over and wipe her cheek.

  “Sure. Let me just wash off and get changed.”

  Boy and I follow her through the house, and she glances back at me every few feet with a puzzled look on her face.

  “What are you doing?”

  She rounds the corner into her old room, and I point to the bed, where there’s a wrapped box with a blue ribbon.

  “For me?” Her eyes are wide, and her smile’s just as big.

  “Yup, open it.” I hand her the box and eagerly watch as she rips away the paper and removes the lid.

  She pulls out the swimsuit, wrinkling her nose and looking at me.

  “You bought me a bikini?” I nod. “Why?”

  “I didn’t go looking for it, but I saw it in a shop window and immediately thought of you.”

  It’s unique, just like Pansy. It’s mainly hot pink with a boho-gypsy print of yellow, blue, green, and burgundy. I can’t wait to see her in it.

  “You don’t like my swimsuit?”

  She’s trying for indignation, but the sides of her mouth twitch and she bites her lip to stifle the smile.

  “I love your swimsuit. I love you in anything. As I said, I saw it and thought of you. Put it on.”

  “This reminds me of a time when we were kids, and my parents bought each of us a swimsuit for our trip to Texas. Mine was this frilly pink bikini, and I hated it.”

  “You did?” I arch an eyebrow as I fear I made the wrong move.

  She nods, holding the suit in one hand. “Yes. The bikini was so unlike the one-piece swimsuits that the women would wear on the TV shows I’d watch with my father. I wanted to be taken seriously. Being in the water was fun, but it was also an adventure and a chance to learn something new. My dad was always teaching me about sea life, the plants, and animals.”

  She’s beaming again. Every time she talks about the sea, about her father, she glows. Unexpectedly, she kisses me on the cheek and thanks me for the gift before going to the bathroom to change. In what feels like fifteen hours, but is more like fifteen minutes, she finally re-enters the room.

  My breath leaves me on a shuddering exhale, hunger and unleashed lust barreling through my chest en route to my crotch. Fuck me. I have a hard time as it is keeping my eyes off her, but in that swimsuit, I can’t tear my gaze away. Hot and stunning.

  At first, she’s shy, clasping and unclasping her hands in front of
her, in between fidgeting and adjusting her bikini top, which is perfect as it is.

  “I fucking knew it,” I assert.

  “What?” Her sass returns as she cocks her hip to one side and places her hands on her waist.

  “You’re sexy as hell.”

  She blushes, waving her hand dismissively as she dons my shirt, the one she borrowed days ago and now seems to live in.

  Taking my hand, she pulls me to the sliding door. “Thank you; I love it.”

  “You do? Even if it’s a bikini and it may be hard to explore in or be taken seriously in?”

  “Yes. You totally knew this was me.”

  I nod with a smirk and a wink before checking to make sure Boy’s right behind us. We find a spot not too far from the house to lay out the bamboo mat and dump our things, then decide to walk for a bit; Boy is eager to run before going into the water.

  Once back, we’re hot and ready to get wet. I watch Pansy’s fine form bending to pat Boy. The dog wags her tail furiously, her tongue lolling to the side in sheer pleasure. Pansy’s lyrical laugh flits through the air, and I enjoy the breathtaking view, warmth spreading throughout me.

  She glances over her shoulder, calling for me to join her. The wind whips her hair all over the place as I greedily drink her in. The bikini sculpts every swell and curve, her long legs gleam in the sunlight, and she tips her head back to face the sky. With closed eyes, her mouth bends into a smile as she basks in the sun.

  My knees buckle with intense desire scorching down my spine to my painfully throbbing cock. On impulse, I run to her, my hands grabbing her waist and spinning to face her.

  In one fell swoop, I pick her up, her shriek ringing through the air as she wraps her legs around my middle. With her in my arms, I dive into the cold, salty water taking us under. We break the surface with Pansy sputtering and laughing.

  “Silas, what the hell?” She coughs while grinning at me.

  I cop a gratuitous feel of her ass while securing her to me. My lengthening dick grazes her core, and I groan while her breath catches, pupils widening like saucers as she parts her lips.