by Geri Glenn
I lower my gaze and stare at my fingers as they run through the fluffy cat’s fur. “Fifteen. I started small. Some weed here and there, just to mellow me out. Make me not so tense.”
“What does a fifteen-year-old have to be so tense about?” His question is more loaded than he knows.
Shame threatens to drown me. “The first joint I ever smoked was given to me by my mother’s boyfriend. He didn’t live with us, but he was there, a lot. And when my mother was working, he sometimes hung around to watch Charlotte and me.” I take a deep breath and force myself to just get it over with.
“The first time he touched me, Charlotte had gone to bed and I was watching a movie in the living room. He sat down on the couch beside me and started to rub my leg.” I feel the tension in the room growing as Reaper realizes where I’m heading with this. “I tried to laugh it off, push his hand away. Carl was a good guy, liked to laugh a lot, but not that night. Every time I pushed him off, he’d push his hand higher up my leg. When I tried to get up, he yanked me back down onto his lap.”
Memories of that night is like watching a movie in my mind as I tell him my story. “I had on an ’NSync T-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts. Before I could stop him, his hand was inside my shorts and he was touching me. I struggled so hard, ya know? But he was just so much stronger than me. I was just a kid.” Tears sting at my eyes, but I ignore them. “He forced his fingers inside me that night, and when he was done, he told me to go clean the blood from my shorts before my mother got home. I went into the bathroom and puked three times before I could even start to sort myself out.”
I lose my battle with my tears and just let them fall. “The next time he tried to touch me, I was ready for him. He hadn’t even gotten his hands on me before I kneed him in the balls and threatened to tell my mom. He backed off after that, but he was always an asshole to me when nobody else was around. I tried to tell my mom, but she didn’t believe me. Said I was just jealous because she’d finally found someone she liked and I wanted to ruin it for her. Told me to stop flaunting myself by wearing shorts and skirts around him. They were fucking Mickey Mouse shorts. She made it seem like I was strutting around in lingerie.
“For a long time, I started staying out as much as possible. Most of the time, I was just wandering around town, looking for something to do—anything, as long as I didn’t have to be at home with him. Then one night I came home and found him standing in Charlotte’s bedroom doorway. He was touching himself, watching her while she slept. She was only twelve at the time.”
“Jesus,” Reaper mutters. His strong arms come out and yank me toward him, wrapping me up in them and pressing me to his chest. Priscilla lets out a squawk and she wiggles out from between us and jumps to the floor.
“I told him to leave my sister alone, but he just laughed. He told me that nobody would believe me. And he was right. I’d already tried to tell my mother. That was the night he took my virginity.” Reaper’s arms tighten around me. “After that, every time I tried to tell him no, he told me he’d just go get it from Charlotte, so I gave in. I hated myself. I was always so jumpy, and when he fucked me, I cried the whole time. That’s when he started giving me weed to relax me.”
“Does your sister know about this?” he asks, his voice hard and shaking with anger.
I shake my head. “No. She knew about the drugs, but not where I got them or why I did them. I never wanted her to know what I did, what he did.”
“She needs to know, Anna. She’s your sister. Isn’t that what sisters are for? Sharin’ and shit?”
“Charlotte’s kind and soft. She wouldn’t be able to handle knowing what I did to protect her. It would eat her up inside. I can’t live with that.”
“So you’d rather it eat you up instead?”
“I can handle it,” I whisper. “Anyway, Mom and Carl were together for almost two years before she finally kicked him to the curb. He was a freeloader and she got sick of it. By then, I was seventeen, was being raped three times a week by my mother’s boyfriend, and had moved on to any type of drug I could get my hands on. I lied and cheated and stole for everything I had because it was the only way I knew how to deal with what I’d become.”
“Fuck, babe.” Reaper presses his lips to my hair.
“My mom and I fought all the time. She was so disappointed in me. She was diagnosed with cancer just after I turned twenty. I raided her pain meds all the time. By then, I just hated myself. I didn’t care if I lived or died. All I cared about was getting high and forgetting. After she died, Charlotte and I stuck together, but she ended up being the one taking care of me. I was so fucking high all the time, I didn’t even realize how low I’d gotten.”
“And that’s how you met Krueger and the Devil’s Rejects,” he says.
I pull away from him and sit up on the bed, folding my legs and covering my naked body with the sheet. “I never meant for Charlotte to get caught up in that. I never thought it would get so out of control. Those guys were scary. They turned me into their whore and I let them because they kept me higher than I’d ever been. But when Krueger became interested in Charlotte, that was it.” My voice shakes with every word of my confession. “He beat the hell out of me when I refused to introduce him to her, and when I owed him money, he threatened to kill me. Said if I didn’t pay him back, he’d take her himself. I agreed, then we ran.” I look up and meet his eyes. “You know the rest.”
“Babe,” he whispers, coming to sit in front of me. “Jesus. Thank you for telling me.” All I can do is nod. Telling him my truth has exhausted me, just as it had when I’d told it to Knox. No matter how hard you try to bury your past, it never really stays buried, and the scars it leaves can re-open with just a simple uttering of their origins.
Reaper pulls me into his arms and hugs me to him, lending me his strength and showing me more support than I’d expected to get from anyone, let alone this man. He lies back on the pillow, dragging me down with him, and he doesn’t let me go, even after we drift off to sleep.
Reaper
A ringing phone is what pulls me out of my sleep, but it’s Anna scrambling out of the bed to grab it that wakes me up completely. I watch with interest as she tries and fails to cover her naked body with the sheet from the bed, and finally gives up as she reaches her purse.
“Shit,” she mutters as she brings it to her ear. “Char, hey.”
I can’t make out the words, but I can hear Charlotte’s voice from where I lay across the room, and it’s safe to say she doesn’t sound happy.
“I know, I…but I–”
Anna’s shoulders slump as she listens to her sister’s raised voice, while running a hand across her forehead.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “I’ll be home soon.” Charlotte says something else then disconnects the call before Anna can finish her, “Bye.”
She tosses the phone back into her purse and turns to see me watching her. A red flush hits her cheeks as she dives back under the blankets beside me. “Well, Charlotte’s pissed at me.”
“You didn’t call her?”
She shakes her head and smirks at me. “I didn’t think I’d be staying.”
“She’ll get over it.” I glance at the clock on the bedside table and groan. “I should get you home anyway. Got shit to do.”
She nods and sits up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, but I catch her arm and pull her back down to me. “Hey,” I say, brushing my lips against hers. “You need to think about telling her the truth about you.” Her eyes fill with fear at the thought, but I continue before she can voice it. “You’ve been through hell, Anna, and everyone just assumes you’re a selfish woman who sold out her sister. Your sister even thinks that. She needs to know.”
She blinks back at me, chewing on her lip before she finally nods and presses a kiss to my lips. When she pulls away, she smiles. “If you would’ve told me a few days ago I’d be naked in your bed, telling you my deepest, darkest secrets, I’d have laughed my ass off.”
/> Her smile hits me right in the chest and nearly knocks the wind out of me. “Glad you trusted me with that shit, babe.”
Just then, my own phone rings, and I know my day is about to go downhill fast. I wish more than anything I could just ignore it and pull Anna back into this bed with me and hide away from my responsibilities, but I can’t. Leaning over, I reach for my abandoned jeans and unclip my phone. It’s a number I don’t recognize.
I bring it to my ear. “Yeah?”
“Is this Lucas Landry?” I don’t recognize the gruff voice on the other end.
“Who’s askin’?”
“This is Allan Wade from Wade, Thompson, and Associates law firm. I was Sharon Welland’s lawyer.”
That gets my attention. “This is Lucas. What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Landry, I’ve been trying to get a hold of your ex-wife to discuss her mother’s passing with her, but so far, I haven’t had much luck. You wouldn’t happen to have her contact information, would you?”
I chuckle and press the phone to my shoulder with my cheek as I shove a leg into my jeans. “I have a number, but good luck getting her to answer. I’ve been trying to contact her for a while now.” I pass the info onto him and finish with my pants. From the corner of my eye, I see Anna collecting her own clothes and slipping out of the room.
“There’s also the matter of Sharon’s estate. Were you aware she had listed you as the executor of her will, Mr. Landry?”
I freeze and clear my throat. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Sharon has left you in charge of everything, and that includes dealing with her funeral arrangements. I’ve got some info here that will be useful to you in carrying out her wishes.” I listen to the man describe cremation and funeral parlors, my head spinning as I try to make sense of it all. Sharon had left me in charge of it all. I’m not surprised, really. I may not have been her relative by law anymore, but I was the closest family she had after her husband passed away. I just never thought I’d have to be the one to bury her.
I end the call after taking down a few numbers he’d given me and stand there in shock, staring at the notepad with my scribbled handwriting.
“So your real name is Lucas?” Anna stands in the doorway to my bedroom, her purse slung over her shoulder and a smirk on her face. “Fancy.”
I grin back at her. “Keep that shit to yourself.”
She smiles and nods her head, then holds up her phone. “I called a cab. It should be here any minute. Just wanted to say goodbye.”
An awkwardness fills the room, erasing all traces of the intimacy we’d shared this morning. Part of me wants to go to her, to kiss away the barrier that seems to be building back up between us, but I don’t. All I can think about right now is Sharon, and getting things sorted out in a way that she would have wanted. And I needed to find Laurie.
Tugging on my shirt, I take a step toward her. “I’ll walk you out.”
Anna
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” Charlotte asks, marching angrily behind me as I slip into my bedroom. “After everything that you told me the other day, I didn’t know what to think. For all I knew, you’d gotten yourself into trouble, and I had no clue where you were.”
I get why she feels that way, but it doesn’t make the sting of her words hurt any less. “I told you I’m clean, Char. And I’m sorry. I stayed the night at Reaper’s.”
She blinks. “Reaper’s? Like big, scary, king of darkness Reaper?”
I smirk at that very fitting description. “You know another Reaper?”
Charlotte flings her hands up in the air. “Anna, what the hell is going on?” Her voice quivers and my heart sinks as tears form in her eyes. “Why do I feel like you haven’t told me everything?”
Because I haven’t. And I can’t. “Nothing’s going on, Char. Reaper had some family drama last night and he came to the bar and got wasted. I drove him home and it was late, so I just stayed.” I hate lying to her.
She watches me for a moment. “You drove him home? With what?”
“His motorcycle,” I say as I start digging through my drawers for something to wear.
“Reaper, the dark one, let you drive his motorcycle? With him on it?”
I can’t help but giggle at that. We must have looked ridiculous, and if I hadn’t been so afraid to dump us on the tarmac, I’d have been laughing the whole way. “Yep. I’m sorry I didn’t call. Reaper and I were talking, and I just kind of passed out.”
She stares at me. “Talking…with Reaper? Anna, did you sleep with him?”
I can feel the flush as it rises up my cheeks. “It just happened,” I whisper.
Charlotte sighs and flops down on my bed, her hand over her round little baby belly that’s starting to be more noticeable. “God, Anna. Reaper?”
I take a seat beside her and look down at my hands clasped in my lap. “It’s fine, Char. It was just a one-time thing. Reaper has never been my biggest fan, and I think he just needed someone last night. It’s no big deal.”
“I’m worried about you,” she confesses. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you told me, about the drugs. I just can’t believe I never noticed. I could have helped you, Anna.” She leans forward and catches my eyes. “I won’t let that happen again. We’re sisters. We’re supposed to be there for each other.”
God, I love my sister. “I’m okay. I promise.”
Charlotte sighs. “Okay. But I’m here if you need me. Don’t hide stuff from me anymore.”
Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I pull her in for a hug. “Thank you.”
We sit like that for several moments, holding onto each other. I can’t help but remember what Reaper had said, about telling Charlotte the truth about the abuse I’d suffered as a kid. I can’t do that to her. It would crush her to know that yet another part of my past went unnoticed by her.
“Oh!” she cries, pulling away and grinning. “I almost forgot. You got something in the mail this morning.” She stands and hurries out of the room. She’s back in seconds, a large manila envelope in her hand. “It’s from the Esthetic Institute.”
I don’t take the envelope from her; I just stare at it. The Esthetic Institute has one of the best esthetician programs in the country, and I’d put in an application months ago after Knox had harassed the holy hell out of me to do it. He’d been like a dog with a bone after I confessed my dream of owning my own little studio where I did things like nails, waxing, and eyelash extensions.
I didn’t stand a chance to get in, though. It’s such a busy school, and I didn’t have any experience other than waitressing to my name. Not only that, but how the hell would I pay for it?
“Well,” Charlotte says, thrusting the envelope toward me. “Open it.”
Robotically, I reach forward and take it from her hands. Using my finger, I slip it under the flap and tear along the seam, my heart hammering in my chest. As I slide out the paper, the first sentence enters my vision and it might as well be lit up in flashing lights.
Dear Ms. Daniels,
We are happy to inform you that your application for the Esthetics program with our institute has been approved.
Tears fill my eyes and my hands begin to shake before I can read any further. “I got in,” I whisper, looking up at my sister. Charlotte squeals and claps her hands, but I’m not as happy as she is. I drop the pages onto my bed, not even bothering to read any further. I have enough going on in my head right now without setting myself up for more upset.
I move to the dresser and start digging out my clothes for the day, ignoring Charlotte. I hear her move, then I hear the rustle of papers as she picks them up. “Why don’t you seem happy about this? I don’t get it?”
“I can’t go,” I say to my underwear drawer, unable to look in her direction. “I don’t have the money to go. That school is expensive, and my part-time job at the Pig’s Ear isn’t gonna cut it.”
Charlotte is silent behind me. I find the rest
of the clothes I’d been searching for and turn toward the door, ready to go jump in the shower. I need to get to a meeting. My day just turned very sour, and I don’t know how to handle it on my own.
“Wait!” Charlotte calls, just as I step outside of my room. “It says here you’ve won their mature student scholarship. Anna, stop!” I turn to her, a small blossom of hope blooming deep inside of me. “You can’t just not try. You owe it to yourself to see this through. It says you applied for the scholarship and you’re the recipient. It’s a full ride, Anna.”
I step back into the room, feeling as if I’m not even in my body. “I got it?” I whisper.
“Yes!” Charlotte cries. “Honey, you’re going to college!”
Reaper
“Fuck,” I mutter, slamming my phone down on the table. I’d left Laurie three messages today, asking her to call me. I’d told her it was important, but I still haven’t heard from her.
“No luck?” the funeral director asks as he walks back into the room.
“No,” I say with a sigh. I don’t have the first fucking clue about flowers and urns, and goddamn obituaries. I was really hoping I could get a hold of that bitch so she could at least help me provide her mother with a decent send-off, but it wasn’t looking like that was going to happen.
“Okay. Well, we can get started then, if you’re ready.” I follow him into a room filled with urns and caskets, and my gut churns. This entire building smells like death, but now, mixed with the varnish of the wood in the room, I’m ready to toss my lunch. “These urns here are our more popular sellers,” he says, showing me a row of urns, most of them carved out of wood, a couple of them a polished metal with swirls of engraved flowers and crosses.
How the hell am I supposed to know what kind of urn Sharon would have chosen? How am I supposed to pick the place she’s going to spend eternity? I’d done this before, when my grandmother had passed, but Sharon had been right beside me, making all the crucial decisions, making it easy for me to just grieve. This time, I feel more alone than ever.