“He’s okay. He’s just been arrested,” Lucy says.
I start shaking my head. “But I was just…”
With him, I almost say.
Lucy reads my eyes. “You were just...?”
“I was just thinking about him. Lately.” My confusion bubbles over into anger and I know I need to put a lid on it before I react too emotionally in front of them. My rage will give me away. It always has. My sisters know when something pokes the soft part inside me that most people can’t reach.
“I know,” Sophie says. “I know you’re upset. I’m sorry he’s found a way to disappoint you yet again, even from a distance. I knew he would.”
“Let me see the paper,” I say flatly.
Lucy slides it over to me and I turn it over. The headline reads Local MC Rivalry Goes Awry.
I shudder and brace myself before I read the article, which states that fourteen members of the Cherry Cove motorcycle club were arrested shortly after midnight last night. The time of arrests was twelve thirty-seven AM, and there were so few police officers and so many members, they had to use zip ties to arrest them in a line until more cops arrived.
Apparently, they set out to not only beat the shit out of some rival crew members, but they also decided to set their little clubhouse on fire.
Charges include arson, assault with deadly weapons, battery, breaking and entering, and possession of deadly weapons.
I put the paper down and rest my chin in my hands, covering my own mouth to prevent hateful words from spilling out.
He said he was out.
He said he was done with this shit.
Sometimes people pretend they are who you want them to be.
Sometimes you believe it.
I close my eyes and try to stop the tears from coming.
“Are you okay?” Lucy asks, reaching across the table to touch my arm.
“Just disappointed,” I manage. “At least no one was killed this time.” I force a fake smile and swallow the hurt.
“That’s not fucking funny,” Sophie snaps.
“It wasn’t meant to be,” I say. “And this is the part where you guys say you told me so, right? That I was just being naïve, as usual?”
“No,” Lucy insists. “This is where we commend your big heart. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to see the good in people, despite all the bad.”
“You have a big heart, Kitty. I just want to stop seeing it break. I can’t take it anymore,” Sophie says.
I nod. “I’m gonna go upstairs. I’m sorry. I just…”
“We know,” Lucy says. “Take your time. If you don’t feel like going into work today, take the day off.”
“Thanks,” I say, standing from the table, grabbing the paper. “Do you mind if I take this?”
“Go ahead,” Lucy says.
“Read it as many times as you need to for it to sink in that he’ll never change. He’s just like Seth. And look where Seth is,” Sophie says.
“Thanks for that,” I say, hating that she is once again comparing Joey to her first love who’s currently in jail for breaking and entering. But, as usual, I think there’s more to the story than what she’s told me.
“I just don’t want you to keep getting hurt,” Sophie says.
“I think that’s inevitable in life,” I remind her, turning and heading upstairs with the paper in one hand and my coffee in the other.
When I reach my room, I close the door behind me, even though what I really want to do is slam it and throw my mug at the wall until it shatters. So it matches my insides. So it’s louder than the breaking inside me.
I sit on my bed and read the article approximately ten more times.
I stare, and I simmer, and I set. And I surmise that Joey said all the right things to squirm his way back inside. And it worked. Stupid me, it fucking worked.
Maybe I am young. Naïve. Foolish.
Maybe my heart chases things it could never truly capture.
Maybe I never had a chance at getting any of this life shit right.
But what I do know, in this moment, is that Joey is still a liar. He will still tell me the things I want to hear, the things I so desperately want to believe. He will grab my fears, turn them around on me, use them against me. He will continue taking my softness and forgiveness from me for as long as I let him.
And I can no longer allow it.
When people continuously let you down, you have to change tactics in order to survive. Sometimes, that means pushing them from the cliff of your disappointment.
When possible, you need to kill the monster. Every one you can reach.
I fold the paper and finish my coffee, staring out the window by my bed.
It dawns on me that it’s time for me to grow up and focus on the one person I’ve been neglecting my whole life. The person I continuously put everyone else before.
Myself.
22
AUGUST 5, 12:16PM
Getting bailed out is easy when you commit crimes with a large group of people. I’m still kicking myself for going, still hating myself even more for bringing the blade. Now I got a nice new charge under my belt and I’m sure Kitty has heard about it by now. And not just her, but her sisters. If they have any say in it, Kitty will never speak to me again.
I can’t say I blame them, or her. I know what this looks like. I know I fucked up. And I know if you ever admit your wrongdoings and then follow it with a “but” it pretty much negates whatever came before it. But…I didn’t have much of a choice in this. I just hope Kitty gives me a chance to explain that.
I would rather spend a year in jail than consider the possibility of spending the rest of my life without her.
I don’t have to see her or talk to her to know what she’s thinking. I’m sure she is beyond pissed. I know—knowing her—she has already made up her mind about me. That she thinks every single true thing I told her was just more bullshit. More lies.
I have to convince her this entire mess isn’t what it seems.
But it’s hard to argue with facts, and I know Kitty will throw every single one in my face. I just hope I can get to her before her sisters do, if they haven’t already.
I know if I ever really want this to work between me and Kitty, I have to get her sisters to come around. But that’s a task for a later date.
Right now, I just need Kitty to understand what happened.
I start my bike, this time with no weapons on me, just a sorry fucking note and a plea for the opportunity to explain what happened.
Once I arrive at Kitty’s, I open the mailbox and place the envelope inside. No cars are in the driveway, and I know where at least one of them are right now, if not all of them.
I’m not sure I’m mentally prepared to face the wrath of the Bordeau sisters, but fuck it. I made this bed. Eventually, I’m going to have to lie in it.
With this in mind, I head to Bordeau Books.
I pull up on the street and realize I’m starting to sweat.
I peer through the storefront.
Right behind the front counter sits Lucy. The one who hates me most.
Fuck. Does the woman ever take lunch?!
Who I don’t see right away, is Sophie, until she’s charging at the door with a pissed off look on her face.
God, they’re all so scary.
I almost wish I wore my helmet so she wouldn’t recognize me.
“What in the actual fuck are you doing here?” Sophie says as she storms over to me.
Judging by the look on her face, she already knows about the arrest.
“Sophie, it’s not what you think,” I say, calmly. “I’m just here to see Kitty. Please.”
“Well, not only do we not want her to see you, but she doesn’t want to see you,” Sophie says. “You should go now.”
“I am very aware of how you and Lucy feel, trust me. But maybe you should let Kitty decide if she wants to see me or not,” I say, biting back the words I really want to say. This is not the first
time her sisters have tried to dictate our outcome, but I’ll be fucking damned if I let them do it again.
“Joseph, listen. I’m aware we coddled her for longer than we should have. But all we did this time is show her the evidence. It was in the goddamn paper. What’d you think, that she was going to come back here and ruin her reputation by hooking up with you again? No. She’s smarter than that.”
I just nod, and while I want to tell her she’s wrong, I’m not sure that she is. And at this point, I know better than to argue with any of the Bordeau girls. “Fine, Sophie. You’re right. You have me all figured out. You and Lucy always have, haven’t you? You decided who I was before you ever even really got to know me. That was real nice to do to Kitty, by the way. It sure has made her confident in her choices when it comes to us, knowing how much her sisters have always supported us and all.” I turn to walk away, but I turn back. “And you know what else? She is smart. Smart enough to make her own decisions. Have a good day.”
And with that, I get on my bike to take off before she can say any more words that might succeed in convincing me Kitty is better off without me.
But I stop at the sound of her voice.
“Hey, Joey,” Sophie yells. “Prove us wrong then.”
I can’t help the slight smile that comes. Because Sophie doesn’t know that’s all I need.
The chance to do so.
The hope that her sisters just might let me this time.
23
AUGUST 10, 9:14PM
Without you, I am restless and morose.
With you, I am alone and adrift.
A fisherman’s goodbye, left behind.
A warning of departure
and a promise to return that never came.
Certain words didn’t fall from your mouth.
Your absence reminds me of those that fell from mine,
predicting this careless farewell.
You made a fortune teller out of me.
I made a false god out of you.
A broken heart can really push you to some strange places. I’ve been processing, accepting, and attempting to heal for almost a week. Notes, flowers, apology cards, they’ve been coming nonstop from Joey. Yet again, he’s trying to tamper with my feelings. My resistance to his bullshit. While it’s difficult to ignore him, it’s not impossible. I am reminded—daily now—of why I left him to begin with.
The murder of his friend back then, the violence now, it still exists. He is not outside of it the way he led me to believe. And for the second time, I need to save myself.
And I hate him for making me choose.
Now, I’m sitting in a place I haven’t sat in since I was a kid.
The teepee in our living room, the one my sisters never took down. Maybe it reminds them of when we were little. Maybe it helps them remember the good.
I used to live in this thing when I was younger. It was my safe place.
I always had a thing for forts. The hiding, being shielded, something about it comforted me.
Maybe the reality is I’ve always been trying to hide from myself.
Maybe eventually, if you’re lucky and you look hard enough, you can find yourself.
As I jot the thought down in my notebook, I hear rustling on the outside of the teepee. I look up to find Sophie crawling inside with me.
I quickly shut the notebook and move aside to make room for her.
“Whatcha doin’ in here, Kitty Kat?” she asks me.
“Just writing,” I say.
“You haven’t been in here in years.”
“I know,” I reply. “I guess I just wanted to feel like myself again. Sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
“Nope,” Sophie says. She points to the notebook. “What kind of shit is spillin’ out of that head?”
I shrug. “I feel like you and Lucy have everything all figured out, and I’m just…here. Always the one trying to understand this adult thing, what I want for my life, my future, if I even have one.”
“Kitty, come on, you have a future. Close your eyes and envision your perfect life. What’s it look like?” she asks.
“Sophie…”
“I’m fuckin’ serious, just do it.”
I let out a sigh and close my eyes.
“Good. Now, think about your version of your perfect life. What do you see?”
Joey. Two kids. Our children running around with my sisters and their kids. A career as an author.
“I see myself marrying the love of my life,” I say sadly. “Our two children. You, Lucy, the kids you both have. I see myself as an author, someone who was really able to make writing their life.” I stop and play with my fingers. “I see someone who didn’t just dream it all up. Someone who made that dream a reality.”
“Well, go make it then,” Sophie says.
“What?’ I ask her, looking up after I open my eyes.
“Create that future. The one you just thought of,” she replies. “Only you can do it.”
I look at her and can’t help it. I lunge. I fling myself into her arms and hug her, so hard, so tight, I think I might break us both. “Thank you,” I say, because it’s overdue.
Because for every moment I have been alive, she has been living partially for me.
I get up as much as I can and climb out of the little teepee, heading straight for the garage. I search through boxes, tearing them open, looking for my old journals. Looking for the things I’ve written over the years. The things that have shaped me. The things that could help shape my future. Because within Sophie’s advice, was clarity.
I need to stop hiding.
I need to put a poetry book together, and put it out in the world.
I reach a plastic container and open it up. But when I grab a stack of letters, with my name on it, in every possible variation, I freeze.
This is Joey’s handwriting.
I tear open the first letter in the stack. The date on it is not even a week after I left to go live with Sophie, two years ago.
In it, he is begging for a reason. As to why I left. If I will answer him. If I am even reading this. If I hate him so much I wouldn’t ever give him a proper goodbye.
If I ever loved him at all.
In the third letter, he is begging for my forgiveness.
In the seventh letter, he sounds defeated.
In the thirteenth letter, he is apologizing for still writing, for still caring so much.
In the twentieth letter, he says he loves me more than he loves himself. And he’s getting out of the club.
I stop at the next letter, where he says he will never stop trying. Where he says he will never stop loving me, even for leaving him so he could better himself.
By the time I fold them up again, I am burning up. With anger. Hurt. Disappointment.
How could my sisters keep this from me?
How could they let me cry, all those days, thinking Joey didn’t even care that I left?
How could they watch me suffer like that?
I grab the handful of envelopes that are spilling over my hands and storm back into the living room. Sophie is in there. Lucy is in the adjoining kitchen.
I toss the stack on the kitchen table. “Is there anything either of you would like to tell me?” I ask, venomously.
“Where’d you find those?” Sophie whispers, joining us in the kitchen.
“It doesn’t matter where I found them. It matters why you hid them, why you kept them from me. Both of you,” I say, glaring at both of my sisters.
“You were still a kid,” Sophie says. “You have to understand, it was our job, to…”
“To what?” I yell. “To break my heart even more than it was already breaking? To keep my fucking boyfriend from contacting me?”
“You were seventeen,” Lucy says. “You wouldn’t have understood. It would’ve confused you.”
“If that’s your excuse, my age, I turned eighteen after I left. I became a fucking adult. You tried to decide my future for me!” I yell, tears
blurring my vision. “It wasn’t your choice! It was mine! You took that from me! You took my entire life from me, every chance you could!”
“We took your life? No. We were trying to protect you,” Sophie says.
“When will either of you realize you can’t protect me from everything? Worse, you can’t even protect me from yourselves,” I say, spitting the words out. Then, I take a deep breath and rub the hurt from my throat, looking straight at Sophie. “You know, it’s funny. Here you are, trying to help me mold my bright future, when in reality, you stole two years from my past. You tried to mold my future for me. You didn’t even stop to think to ask me what I wanted. Like it was your life, not mine.”
Sophie doesn’t have a chance to respond before Lucy grabs her arm and interjects.
“Kitty,” Lucy starts, “we were trying to do what we thought was best for you.”
“Because you always know what’s best for me. Even better than I do, right?” I say to her. Then I look at Sophie again, tears blurring my eyes. “How could you watch me cry, every day? How could you keep this from me? Lucy, she was here. You, you were right there.”
“Kitty, I…”
I hold my hand up to stop Sophie from continuing. “No. I’m done listening to either of you right now. The funny thing is, I thought I could trust you both with everything. I can only imagine what else you’ve been hiding from me.”
With that, I grab the stack of letters and head upstairs to my bedroom, where I slam the door, trying to slam them both out of my life.
All I want right now—as the rage and sorrow tear me apart, fighting to prove which is stronger—is Joey. Joey and his arms around me.
Joey and his search for forgiveness.
Joey and my granting of it.
Joey and my remorse for not giving it to him sooner. Joey and his remorse for not asking for it before it was too late.
My stupid heart betrays me every time; me, and all the logic my brain conjures up to keep us at war.
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Ruin Me: The Summer of Secrets: Part 1 Page 8