by Anna Brooks
Chapter 4
Amie
MY FEET RUSH THROUGH the kitchen, and I grab the lasagna I made this morning out of the fridge and throw it in the oven before I even take my purse off my arm. I stayed late after school talking to another teacher, and I didn’t realize how much time had passed.
Larry will be home in a half-hour, and he expects dinner ready the moment he walks through the door. If someone had told me that I would become that woman, I would have laughed in their face. But when someone is so good at manipulation and they are so vindictive, you don’t even realize what has happened until it’s too late and there aren’t many options. And if I really want to blame someone, all I need to do is look in the mirror. I got myself into this mess, and I will get myself out of it.
I’m secretly saving money so I can get out on my own, but it’s difficult when he monitors everything so closely. I could go to my parents, but they’re old, and I don’t want to risk him hurting them. Just a little while longer, and I’ll be able to stand on my own two feet again.
He comes through the door ten minutes early and sits at the table without saying a word to me. I grab the lasagna out of the oven, cut him a piece, and then set the plate in front of him. As I’m getting a glass so I can fill it with milk, his chair screeches across the floor.
“It’s fucking cold, dumbass. You think I want cold food?”
I turn to tell him I’ll heat it up, but he grabs the plate and throws it at me. I lift my hands to protect my face, and the lasagna hits me a mere second before the plate shatters against my arm. A whimper passes through my lips, but I don’t dare show I’m hurt.
“I’m going to get some real food.” He slams the door on his way out, but I hear him yell from the garage, “Clean that shit up.”
And like the dumbass that I am, I clean it up. Then I run around the house, make sure everything else is clean, and take a shower.
He comes home after I’m already in bed and grabs my arm, pulling me to my back. I know better than to sleep with bottoms on, and when he pokes at me with his hard little penis, I spread my legs and close my eyes, waiting for the quick four minutes to be over before I roll onto my side of the bed and silently cry myself to sleep.
* * *
Every second Sunday, I meet my mom and dad for lunch. They decided on a place downtown, and I had to park a couple of blocks away since it’s so crowded this morning. Before I exit my car, I make sure my bruises are covered. I don’t need them to worry.
I’m fully aware that the restaurant is next to his family’s bar. Every time I drive by it, my stomach drops. My heart speeds up. My hands shake. I have an intuitive reaction just being near a place that holds memories for us. Memories of him.
As I’m walking to the restaurant, I see him. His back is to me as he’s talking to someone outside of Kelly’s Pub, but even blind, I would know who it is. It’s been seventeen years, and I didn’t know what I would feel when I finally saw him again. I don’t really even know what I feel right now. Too much. My breaths falter and my heart shakes. I desperately want to run up to him and bury my face in his neck and smell him, have him hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. I want things to be like they used to. I want to be fucking happy again.
But when I picture how I left him—the words I so cruelly threw at him and the disappointment I saw on his face—I know I ruined that. I ruined it all.
My feet freeze in place, and I contemplate my next move. I need to be in the restaurant right next door to him, but if I cross the street, he’s still going to see me. I could cancel on my parents, but it’s the only time of the month I can get away from Larry, so I don’t want to miss the few peaceful hours I have.
Screw it—it’s been years. I lower my head and walk by him, his smooth voice nostalgic as he talks to the other man, even though the words are fuzzy to me. I almost trip when he laughs. God, his laugh. It always made me smile; he made me smile. I loved everything about him. But getting to hear that laugh is something special. He’s normally quiet and more serious, so when he does laugh, it’s worth listening to.
His laughter cuts off abruptly as I pass him, and as I open the door to the restaurant, I risk a glance at him. My heart lurches in my chest and tears fill my eyes when I see the baby in his arms. His lower jaw comes unhinged before he clamps it shut. Even though my eyes are blurry, I can’t help but look at his. When his hazel orbs connect with mine, I hold the door tighter so I don’t faint.
My feelings can’t still be here after all this time, can they? I knew I would always love him, but he doesn’t feel the same about me, does he? There’s no way he can. He hates me, just like I wanted.
His brows furrow at me, and he slowly blinks, then puts a hand on his baby’s head, and turns his back to me. My already broken heart shatters a little more, and as the pieces crumble in my chest, I walk into the restaurant and make a beeline for the bathroom.
My skirt isn’t long enough to cover the back of my thighs as I sit on the toilet seat, and the cold plastic rubs against my skin. I dry heave and quickly drop to my knees to spit into the toilet. Shaky fingers reach up to tear off some toilet paper, and I wipe my mouth.
I flush the toilet then wash my hands twice before I reapply my lip gloss and head to the table to meet my parents. I fake a smile, and my dad stands to hug me. My mom has a bad hip, so I lean down and kiss her cheek. As I’m taking my seat, I turn to look out the window and find Declan looking right at me, his arms crossed over his chest, his lean body tight with frustration, his brown hair messily blowing in the wind. He shakes his head and walks away, but not before I saw him mouth Mimi to himself.
“How are you, dear?” Mom asks.
I clear my throat before I speak, afraid the emotion lodged in it will give away my inner turmoil. “Fine. How are you?”
“Oh, you know. Same. That neighbor got another dog. Little yapper. I’ll tell you something, if I hear that pesky thing…” She continues to talk, and I try to force myself to listen, but it’s useless. Almost two decades of feelings hidden away are trying to force themselves out. But really, who am I kidding? I didn’t hide any feelings. They were always there. He was always there.
I was hoping that if I ever saw Declan again, I would be alone so I could process it by myself. I avoided places I thought I might run into him. I shopped on the opposite side of town. I stayed away from the lake. I did everything I could, but I never forgot. Ever.
The waiter walks by, and I order a mimosa, still pretending to listen to my mom bitch about her neighbor. I nod when I’m supposed to, and I agree with her when she asks me if she’s right. But I don’t hear a word she’s saying because the only thing in my mind right now is Declan and how I’m going to survive seeing him around town again.
He always was my weakness and forcing him away from me was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I barely managed without him, only because I didn’t have to see him. I was able to force the memories far enough away that I could sleep at night. But seeing him again and looking into his eyes, I feel as if I broke his heart yesterday and went from being the love of his life to the bitch that ruined his life.
I manage to make my way through my meal and fake it enough that my parents don’t ask any questions about my behavior. An unfortunate side effect of my circumstances is that I can pretend with the best of them. Nobody would know by looking at me how miserable I am. And that’s exactly what I want.
Getting back to my empty house, well, Larry’s house, I walk around and imagine what it would be like if I lived with Declan. I imagine the couch would be a place we’d snuggle and mess around on, instead of where I end up face first. The kitchen would be where we’d share meals and talk about our day. Then maybe after we washed the dishes, he’d eat me for dessert on the countertop.
Just then, Larry walks in the back door, grabs a beer out of the fridge, and plops his nasty ass on his recliner. I head to the sink and turn the water on as memories from earlier today collide with one from twenty yea
rs ago.
I walk out of my chemistry class talking to my new lab partner, and Declan throws an arm around my shoulder, pulling me away from Lucas.
“Hey, honey,” he whispers, before kissing my cheek.
“Hi.”
As we’re walking down the hallway, he pulls me into an alcove and cages me in so I lean my back against the wall. “Who was that?”
“Lucas. My lab partner.”
“Mmm.” He slides his nose along my chin. “I missed you.”
“Declan, it’s been forty-three minutes.”
“Don’t matter.” He presses his lips softly against mine. I wrap the arm that’s not holding my books around his waist and kiss him back.
His fingers toy with the waistband of my skirt as his lips explore my own, and I feel him harden against my belly, so I push him off. “We’re at school.” I laugh.
“Fuck, we are, huh?”
“Later, D.”
“Hell yeah, later, honey. I’m gonna finish what I just started and make you feel so good. Be sure to keep this short little skirt on for me, okay?”
I lick my lips at the promise of what’s to come, no pun intended, and nod.
“Let me.” He grabs my books and walks me to my classroom, opening the door and kissing me on the top of the head before I go in. Once I sit down, I look out the small window on the door and smile at him. He doesn’t smile back but mouths Mimi.
My body slams into the refrigerator, and before I realize what’s happening, Larry’s fist comes down and strikes me on the jaw. “Bitch, you deaf or something?”
I cover my face and push up, backing away from him. I’ve never seen this level of anger from him before, and although I’ve been afraid of him before, I’ve never been frightened like this.
“I need another fuckin beer. Bring it to me.” He storms off, and I quickly grab a bottle out of the fridge and follow him. Once I hand it over to him in his chair, I begin to walk away, but he grabs my arm and pulls me down to him so our eyes are level. “Don’t ever ignore me again.” Then he pushes me away, causing me to stumble into the wall.
I scurry away and grab some ice from the freezer then go lock myself in the bathroom, refusing to cry over the prick. This is the first time he’s ever punched me. I’m used to being pushed, pinched, slapped, and having things thrown at me, but he’s never used a closed fist before. I look at myself in the mirror and am ashamed at what I’ve become. Who is this person staring back at me?
It was never supposed to get this bad. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
* * *
A week later, after the shading of my bruise is almost gone, I take a deep breath before I pull up the sides of my coat to cover the new bruise on my neck from Larry wrapping his hands around my throat. I’ve swallowed my pride and decided to ask for help from the only person I trust to keep this private.
A chime sounds when I push open the door to Kelly’s gym, and Pierce, all grown up, comes around the corner. It’s almost scary how much he and Declan look alike in their adulthood.
“Amie?”
“Hey, Pierce. Long time, no see.”
“Yeah. What’s up? Dec’s back in town, ya know?”
My eyes sting at the hostility in his voice, and I try to hide the raging guilt. “Yeah, I’ve seen him.” And his baby. Haven’t run into his wife yet, though. I might as well just die if that ever happens.
I can tell Pierce doesn’t want me here, but I thought he would be the best person to ask. I tuck my hair behind my ears, a nervous habit, and decide just to ask him. “I was wondering if you had any, um, training I could get. Private lessons, if possible.”
“What kind of training, Amie?”
“Self-defense,” I whisper, embarrassed I’m even in this position.
“Who?” he snaps.
“What?”
“Who put their hands on you?”
Shit, I should have known the Kelly temper would surface. “Nobody.”
“Liar.”
“Fine. I’ll go somewhere else. I just thought that since I knew you… I knew I could trust you. But I see how it is, and I understand how you all feel about me.” He has a right to hate me… Hell, I hate myself for what I did. I run out, get in my car, and peel out and go back home. I quickly get into bed and count my lucky stars that Larry doesn’t get back from the bar for another forty-five minutes.
When the sound of the door clicks, I actually pray to God that he passes out in his recliner tonight. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with him. As his footsteps get louder, I force the tears to go away. He won’t see me fucking cry for him. The bedroom door opens, and I know God isn’t looking out for me tonight, just like he wasn’t seventeen years ago.
* * *
It’s Sunday now, so Larry sits in front of the TV all day while I clean. I start on a list for the grocery store, thankful I have a reason to leave the house. I try to go every Sunday so I can look forward to that day of the week. Since I work full time and Larry expects dinner and dessert to be ready when he gets home, I don’t have time to go after school.
As I’m shopping, I pass the aisle with all the baby stuff and do a double take when I see Declan. He has a cart and a baby seat on the front part with a pink blanket falling out. His hand rests on the baby in a protective nature while he looks at items on the shelf. He’s such a good dad. I knew he would be. I knew the woman he married would be the luckiest one in the world.
At one point, I thought it would be me, but life happens. Things change. Horrific events occur, and when decisions need to be made, sometimes, in hindsight, they were the worst ones that could be made. But things in the past are there for a reason. To stay there. The past can’t be redone. No takebacks. No do-overs.
I quickly rush to the checkout and leave without everything on my list. I’ve caused Declan enough hurt to last a lifetime; the last thing I want to do is keep running into him and making him uncomfortable. When I get home, Larry hollers for me to bring him the beef jerky he wanted.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself. “The store didn’t have any. Do you want me to go get you some from the gas station?”
The chair creaks and I prepare myself for him to come into the kitchen where I’m unloading the groceries. “You fucking stupid cunt. Can’t get anything right, can you?” He grabs my hair and tugs my head back, then he wraps his other arm around my throat. His fingers dig into my trachea, and I gag, gasping for air. With a violent shove, he pushes me into the kitchen table and walks back into the living room. “Go get my fucking beef jerky.”
Chapter 5
Declan
A KNOCK ON MY door sounds, and I rush to get it, but it’s too late, because Clover coos from her crib. Pierce comes in, and I can tell from the tightness in his shoulders that something is wrong.
“What’s up?”
“Man, I don’t know how to tell you.”
“What?”
“Amie came by the gym.”
“So?” God, just hearing her name makes my heart tear. When I saw her last week, there was so much of… everything. I wanted to kiss her and hold her and yell at her and fuck her. I knew that we would run into each other. I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast, and I certainly didn’t expect to feel like she ripped my heart out just yesterday.
But more than anything, I wanted to pretend she didn’t still own me. I wanted to pretend for just a little while longer that I wasn’t so fucking strung up on her that I still wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat when I have a dream about her.
“She asked for self-defense lessons.”
My protective instincts for her overrun my shattered heart, and I immediately become unrestrained with the need to keep her safe. “Come again?”
“She had bruises on her, Dec.”
I pull my cell out of my pocket and dial my buddy, Nik, who answers on the second ring. “Yeah?”
“Who’s she dating?”
Nik doesn’t need me to tell him who I’m talki
ng about, since he’s always kept tabs on her throughout the years. I discovered that one night when he was visiting me a long time ago. I was drunk, he was drunk, and I let my guard down and asked if he’d seen her. He told me that he keeps an ear open to what she’s doing because he figured I’d want that. And he was right. That’s why he’s my best friend. Although I’m a little disappointed that he didn’t catch what was going on and why she has bruises on her.
“Larry Foster, why?”
“He still live on Maple?”
“Yeah. Dec, what—”
I hang up on him and look at Pierce. “Can you stay with Clover?”
“Meara’s already on her way. I’m not letting you go alone. I don’t want you to end up in jail.”
I pace through the kitchen as rage courses through me. My hands open and close, making fists that I imagine pounding into Foster’s face, and I crack my neck. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
“I can take care of it, but I thought you might want—”
“Oh, I’m gonna take care of it. Fuckin’ stupid girl. Larry fucking Foster. She knows better. She fucking knows that motherfucker is a piece of shit.”
If that isn’t a punch to the gut, I don’t know what is. Larry Foster was a massive prick back when we went to high school together. One of those guys who tried to be cool even though he wasn’t. The kid would make fun of someone just to make himself look better. A straight-up bully, he used his fists to make himself feel better about his crappy, pathetic life.
I was never the type of guy to try to control Amie. I didn’t give a shit if she had friends who were guys. I trusted her. But if I got a bad vibe from someone, I made her stay away. She never questioned me; she just said, “Okay Dec, I’ll stay away.” Because she knew I took her safety seriously, and my instincts were spot on… Always have been, always will be.