Kimberley, sober and taking care of him, and now his Mum actually giving a fuck about what he did? There was no other explanation; he was having a bad trip.
There was nothing for it, he would just have to ride it out and then file it away with the many other things he should be telling a professional about but wouldn’t.
He rested his head against the cream square tiles of the shower wall without even bothering to turn the water to hot or take his now soaked and heavy clothes off. His mind was a complete blank as he stood there for a few minutes, gathering his bearings and what little courage he had left.
With a yank he turned the water off, stripping his clothes off in the shower before roughly drying himself with the fluffy yellow towel. Ignoring everything else, Jace yanked on the grey track pants then stalked into the kitchen to face his mother.
“Please sit,” she said as she watched him walk in.
She was already sitting at the bench, her brown eyes tired but alert. She’d wrapped a pink terry cloth robe around herself while he’d been showering and the shocking pink grabbed his attention as he slowly complied.
“Isabelle stopped by again today,” she began.
Jace shut his eyes tightly. Of course she did.
“I don’t want to speak to her,” he told his Mum bluntly.
“She wasn’t here to speak to you.”
That captured his attention. “What?”
“She came to tell me that she’d let you down as your friend but I had let you down as your Mother.”
Jace’s mouth dropped. “She did what?”
“She was right,” she told him firmly. “She told me that you felt you weren’t loved by anyone.”
Her brown eyes filled with regret. “Is that true?”
The black kitchen counter had never been more fascinating to him as he felt conflict between being honest, protecting himself, and handling her feelings with care. There was a dark, vindictive part of himself that wanted to just walk away now so she could feel the hopelessness, rejection and uncertainty of being left in silent, bitter isolation.
She saw through his indecision for the answer it really was and gasped brokenly.
“Jace – no. I love you, I have always loved you. How could you even think otherwise?”
The betrayal in her voice rubbed him the wrong way. Was she joking?
“Are you kidding me?” he barked. “This is the most you have said to me in years. You barely acknowledge me, you take every chance to get away from me, and you have not given one single fuck about what I’ve been doing with my life and my choices since Dad walked out.”
Her face paled and she curled into herself like she was cowering from an actual physical blow. The tears in her eyes spilled down her cheeks and she sobbed brokenly just once, but that one sound lodged deep within his soul.
“Mum…” he began.
She held a hand up to stop him, wiped the tears away and stood away from the bench.
Here it was; she was going to walk out and just leave him again. Then he’d wake up tomorrow with that hole inside of himself, that was rotting from within and consuming any goodness he had left.
Two thin arms wrapped around his neck and pulled his head into the curve of a feminine shoulder.
What the fuck? He was frozen, completely unable to move or comprehend what the hell was happening right now.
“I’m so sorry, Jace,” she whispered into his ear. “This is all my fault, and I am so sorry.”
“What?” he mumbled.
Pulling away, her brown eyes met his blue, and she didn’t flinch when she looked into his eyes for once.
“I couldn’t face you,” she whispered, and he winced. “I failed to get your Father help, I failed to protect you from him, I failed you in every way a Mother could fail her child, and I could not face you. I would look at your face and see everything he had done to hurt you, and I couldn’t cope with it. I held myself back from you. I stopped trying to parent you because you had already raised yourself. You had protected your sister and me for years, and I had nothing left to offer you. I have never once, not once in all the years since you were born, not been proud to have you as my son.”
“Mum…” he began again on a choke.
“It destroyed me what happened with your Father, and I admit that I checked out. I left you to deal with it and made mistake after mistake, damaging you further without much thought … because I was lost in my own shame and self-pity. I can’t take back all the wrongs and pain I’ve caused you, but I want you to know that I’m going to work to make it up to you. Starting with no more hiding, and no more lies or half-truths.”
Dread filled his body as he braced for whatever bombshell she was about to drop.
“Your Father was mentally ill, honey,” she said softly, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “I knew it before we married, and I knew he was slipping into the manic mood swings after we had you and Maia. But I wasn’t sure how to help him so I just pretended everything was OK.”
The words sunk in, beginning to swirl around his head, making him dizzy and nauseous. So his Dad was a head case? Did that mean Jace was too? Jesus! Was he going to end up destroying anything beautiful in his life no matter how hard he tried to be better?
“Did…did you pull away because I’m like him?” he whispered.
“No, you’re nothing like your Father, honey,” she said firmly. “You aren’t violent and manipulative like him - and you have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I’ve encountered.”
“I have anger issues though,” he said softly. “And sometimes I feel like I can’t control my emotions or myself.”
There was a beat of silence before she wrapped him up in her arms again.
“We can get you checked out if you want, but I really don’t think you’re like your Father.”
Jace slumped into her arms and let her warmth envelope him in a way he hadn’t experienced for years.
It made sense now; the way he behaved and sometimes over reacted to situations. His self-loathing and self-destructive behaviour. He didn’t want to use that stuff as a crutch for his bad behaviour, but to have it confirmed he wasn’t actually crazy would be a massive relief.
Even hearing about his Dad having mental issues was a huge pressure off his chest. It wasn’t all self-destructive, his partying. Sometimes he needed to calm his racing mind, and numbing was the only thing that worked. Sometimes he was so scared that if he didn’t calm the raging emotions and gnawing doubts inside of himself he was going to really harm himself just to make it stop.
“Things are going to be better,” she told him fervently. “No more hiding away, no more living in ignorance or being too scared to confront difficult feelings or situations. I want to earn the title of your Mother again and I want us to be a family.”
“What about Dad? He’s probably called you too, right? Is he going to be part of the family rebuild?”
She stiffened slightly but only for a moment. “He has called once, but it’s part of his rehabilitation to apologise to those he’s wronged.”
“Are you taking him back?” the words came out choked.
“No honey, he’s not ever coming back,” she assured him. “I’ll be happy to put guilt, regret and bitterness behind me - but there’s not going to be any pretending everything’s OK when it’s not.”
Jace nodded and pulled away slightly, exhaustion settling in to his bones.
“I’m glad we had this talk Mum, but I’m going to go crash.”
“I am too, honey,” she replied with a warm smile.
With heavy feet but lighter shoulders he moved towards the stairs.
“Oh, and Jace?”
He turned back to face her with an eyebrow raised.
“You’re grounded.”
His mouth dropped. “What?”
She gave a little smile and nodded. “Sorry kiddo, there’s no more free passes or blind eyes. There are consequences for your actions. I truly hope you had a wonderful time at
whatever party you were at tonight, because it’s the last one you’ll attend for a month.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“As a heart attack,” she confirmed. “Now, I’ve been waiting for you to get home for hours so I need some rest too. I’ll see you when you wake tomorrow.”
She blew a kiss to him and then shuffled away.
Jace made a show of stomping up the stairs like a petulant teenager but he had a massive grin spread across his face.
His Mum was finally back and that felt more like a reward than punishment.
CHAPTER 15
ISABELLE
The feeling was there again, stronger than ever before. With the heat of an unknown person’s gaze on her back and an uneasy feeling settling into the pit of her stomach, Isabelle was furious. No, she was completely enraged, so she shoved the paranoia away viciously as she stormed to her car.
Kimberley hadn’t shown up to their last therapy session of the term which meant the steady anger that had been rising since her conversation with Tate was now at critical level. Since she wasn’t really speaking to anyone at the moment, and it didn’t appear that Kimberley had a close knit group of friends either. She had been forced to sneak a peek at Kimberley’s file in Ms. Taylor’s office so she could get her address.
So now, not only was Isabelle going to kick Kimberley’s scrawny arse for messing with Tate, she was going to break her damn nose for turning Isabelle into a felon.
The only positive thing that had happened today was her Dad giving her the car to use, so she didn’t have to brave the public transport system to find her way to Kimberley.
Curious eyes watched her as she spun out of the car park, determined and ready for a fight. Isabelle knew she looked crazy with her blonde hair all over the place - and with a no doubt insane look in her eyes. But these people weren’t her friends, not really. So she didn’t give a single damn what they thought they knew about her. In fact, they could all join Kimberley in hell.
Punching the address into her phone’s GPS, Isabelle nursed her rage as she drove further from the picturesque suburbs and into a run-down community of units. There were no pretty parks here - no views of the beach.
In fact, Isabelle was almost certain she’d seen areas just like this in movie depictions of ghettos. Granted, there didn’t appear to be any drug dealers or drive by’s happening, but that didn’t make Isabelle feel any safer.
The houses were all white and chipped - some with tape being used as curtains against the windows, and the grass was brown and dead. It was still light out, but Isabelle noticed only two light poles for the whole street and she shivered as she thought how dangerous this place would be when darkness surrounded the neighbourhood. Damn. Kimberley lived here?
Guided by the GPS, Isabelle spotted the tiny unit that was Kimberley’s home, and circled around to park her Dad’s car a few houses down - under the only street light in plain view. She thought she should at least make an effort to deter anyone from stealing the car, even though this looked to be a ghost street, with the houses looking empty or totally dilapidated.
Shaking off any lingering doubts, Isabelle placed her phone in her bag with her books and wallet, locked the car and then squared her shoulders. There was no grass in front of the unit, but plenty of empty bottles of alcohol and cigarette butts.
Didn’t Kimberley have any parents to keep an eye on her and protect her?
No, she would not think about that, because it didn’t concern her. She was here for one reason only, and she was not going to be swayed from giving Kimberley a piece of her mind.
The cheap fly screen door swung open as Isabelle approached and Kimberley leaned against it, looking bored.
“I was wondering when you’d be by, Barbie.”
Kimberley was dressed in ratty gym shorts with a faded tank top, and her hair was a mess piled upon her head. Without her makeup she looked a lot younger and, Isabelle thought in wonder, a lot more vulnerable than she thought possible.
Pushing those thoughts, as well as Kimberley herself away, Isabelle passed through the door to find herself in a small living room with stained carpet, grey walls, a yellow futon, and the overwhelming stench of weed, alcohol and sweat.
The rest of the unit didn’t appear to be in any better condition.
“Are you by yourself here?” Isabelle asked quietly, pity beginning to override her anger at Kimberley.
“My Mum comes home to either pass out or party every so often. Did you come here to see how the other half lives or did you actually want something?”
Kimberley’s bored drawl pulled Isabelle back into the moment and she spun around, anger filling her once more.
“You used Tate,” Isabelle accused straight out.
Kimberley shrugged. “I did have every intention of using him in any way I could to hurt you - funny how things work out.”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Kimberley sat on the futon, curling her legs up to her chest.
“You’re blonde Barbie, but you’re not blind. Surely even you can see how special Tate is.”
“Of course he’s special! He’s the greatest goddamned person I know, which means he’s too good for your manipulation and games. I don’t know what you’ve said or done that has him thinking he’s falling for you, but it ends today. Now.”
Kimberley’s eyes widened slightly. “He told you he’s falling for me?”
Isabelle rolled her eyes and clenched her fists. “Surprised your little plan worked so well?”
“I had every intention of finding a way to hurt you like you had hurt me,” Kimberley told her. “And I’ll admit I was prepared to be ruthless to do so. That changed about ten minutes in when he looked deep into my eyes, cut through every wall I put up, saw the real me I kept hidden … and then still wanted to know more.”
Isabelle had to hand it to her; she was a fantastic actress. Her usually sharp features were soft as she spoke of Tate, and the small smile that curved her lips was attractive and sweet.
“The more I got to know him, the more I inadvertently got to know about you too. We would talk for hours some nights and I would tell him all about the broken dreams I had as a child, and he would tell me about the dream childhood he had with you. I hated how warm his voice would be when he talked about you, all those loving memories he cherished so deeply because you gave them to him. I thought you were a selfish, cruel bitch for playing with his and Jace’s feelings but giving neither of them your own, but then he told me about Jason and what you went through. He told me his fears of losing you to yourself and the monster you never let free … and I began to understand you as the scared, broken little dove you are.”
“Tate would never betray my trust and tell you that,” Isabelle hissed. “You’re lying.”
There was no smug smile or malice in Kimberley’s eyes, only sadness and understanding - which served to only fuel Isabelle’s rage.
“Tate told me you refused help and you wouldn’t tell your parents or speak to anyone about what was eating you up. He was so worried, so desperate and sad that I couldn’t stand it; so I decided to help. I manipulated you into the poetry contest and then I tried to have you forced into counselling - but obviously that backfired on me.”
Isabelle’s head was spinning with all this information. No, not information, but lies - because there was no way Kimberley would ever do anything to benefit anyone but herself. They were all just pawns in Kimberley’s chess board. Sitting ducks, as they waited for her to sacrifice one of them for her own gain.
“I don’t believe you. You have been nothing but a heartless bitch to me from day one.”
“Have I?” Kimberley pressed. “Who made sure you actually made it into school on your first day when you were having a freak out? Who gave you a pep talk about Jace and tried to wake you up from the self-destructive path you’re on? We’re not ever going to be besties, Barbie, but after the last confrontation at Ben’s party I have been the onl
y consistent person here who has had your back. I didn’t coddle you and tell you what a precious princess you are, but I sure as fuck didn’t do anything to harm you or ruin your life. But, then again, you did a good enough job on your own.”
“Screw you!” Isabelle snapped, her bag falling to the ground with a thump. “I’m not going to stand here and listen to the poison dribble out of your mouth. I came here to tell you to stay away from Tate and crawl back into whatever hole you came from. You will never deserve him. You will never be enough for him, and eventually your shadows are going to swallow his sun and he will be just as ruined as you!”
Kimberley scrambled to her feet, her eyes flashing with annoyance.
“Are you kidding me? Are you jealous that the attention isn’t all on you? Or are you that screwed in the head you’ve actually deluded yourself into thinking you’re doing the right thing here? I know how amazing Tate is, I know that he could do better and I know that I am the kind of damaged he doesn’t need in his life - but that’s his choice to make. Think back on the last couple of months - did he seem depressed to you? Conflicted or broody?”
Isabelle refused to answer because the truth was not what she wanted to admit to herself. Tate had been happier than she had seen him in years. Excited, playful and in a perpetually good mood. There were no awkward pauses or hidden meanings behind his words anymore, he was just free to be her best friend without any longing attached.
“That’s irrelevant if it wasn’t real,” she responded. “Maybe if you cared so much about him, you would do him a favour and let him go.”
Kimberley shoved Isabelle once with her palm. “And maybe you need to wake up to yourself and stop projecting your insecurities and issues onto me and Tate. I’m not perfect and I’ll own that, but at least I’m brave enough to open my heart to someone amazing and give them the choice to cherish it or not. You’re so locked in your little world of madness and monsters that you can’t even see what’s right in front of you. Everyone has choices in life and you’re actively choosing to be a victim- destroying yourself and anyone who dares to care about you in the process. It’s fucking pathetic.”
Home is Where the Heart Is (Home #1) Page 27