Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series)

by Brannon, M. S.

  It seems impossible, but I don’t pay attention to where Noah is and whether he’s close to the car. I only do as Jake says and keep my eyes on the windshield.

  “Okay. The turn’s coming up. When I tell you, you’re going to slam on the breaks. I mean, hit the fucking breaks hard. Grab the wheel on the outside and crank it to the left. We are going to fly, you’ve got to maintain control. She’s gonna slide on you. Control it. Do you understand?” I listen to the deep seriousness in Jake’s tone. He’s not yelling. The sound is soothing, cool and controlled.

  “Yes,” I answer as I nod my head in agreement, but on the inside, I’m freaking out. My heart is thumping so hard in my chest that I feel like at any moment it will bust out through my ribs.

  “Are you ready?” Jake asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Here it comes. In ten feet… five feet… PUNCH IT!” Jake shouts as I hit the brakes then violently turn the wheel hard to the left. The back end of the Challenger swings out quickly as we do a one hundred and eighty degree turn. “Control it, D. Control!” Jake instructs as the car makes its aggressive turn.

  Before I can breathe, Jake shouts, “Gas. NOW!” I slam my foot down on the pedal and we shoot off like a rocket.

  Noah just finishes his turn around, but is hot on my trail. As I push the accelerator deeper and use the last bit of muscle the Challenger has to make it down the straightaway, Jake looks out his window and finds Noah is riding right alongside of us, practically nose to nose. Then, seconds later, we fly past the finish line. We can’t immediately tell who the winner is, and frankly, I don’t care. I’m just glad I haven’t killed anyone or myself.

  I hit the brakes, making the car abruptly halt then look over to Jake, who looks back at me with adrenaline-filled eyes. We say nothing, only breathing heavily, sharing this moment of intensity together.

  Mike comes running down to us just as we exit the challenger. “You won!”

  No sooner is that announcement made than Jake lets out a manly scream and runs to me. He picks me up, swinging me in the air. “You did it, D! I can’t believe you did it!” he shouts, while continuing to spin me around in circles.

  I laugh at his boyish excitement. “No, we did it, Jake. I would’ve crashed if you weren’t there to tell me what to do.”

  “Do you know how fucking amazing you are? Goddamn, girl. Where the hell did you come from?” Jake’s eyes are dark, sparkling gems and I can’t help but be dazzled by them.

  He sets me down and kisses the top of my head. Something I’ve noticed Jake’s comfortable doing lately. Do boy and girl friends kiss each other like that? Should I be okay with this? My heart gets excited whenever his lips come near me, but my mind is screaming that I should put a stop to it.

  The lines have been blurring since the end of our first summer. I never pass up a chance to lie in his arms. There’s something comforting knowing Jake is next to me. He would never let anyone hurt me and I know with all my being he would never do anything to hurt me. I really do care for him and this scares me. It scares me so much that I want to run back to Memphis and get reacquainted with the person I used to be before Jake.

  After we walk over to Mike and collect our winnings, I divide up the money, giving Jake half when he pushes it away.

  “Nope, this is your first successful win. It’s all yours. It will make up for the money you lost last night.” He winks at me and then we walk over to join the crowd growing by the beer trucks.

  Jake and I spend the rest of the night hanging out with his racing friends, staying out until the sun rises in the morning. It’s a perfect night.

  ***

  “What is the matter with you?” I shout back to Presley who’s just told me to go to hell because I questioned her horrible behavior.

  I’ve been in Sulfur Heights for two weeks, spending every day with Presley—helping her care for Mia, cooking her meals—but the more time I spend here, the further and further withdrawn she’s become. This isn’t the first time she’s told me off, but this time I’m holding Mia when she tosses a toy at my head. I turn just in time so the toy hits my back instead of Mia.

  “Just get the fuck out of here! I never asked you to be here every day. God! You’re so annoying,” Presley shouts again. Her skin is ghostly and sweaty. She looks horrible. She never acted this volatile when she was going through her depression and anorexia. I can’t do this anymore. She has to take responsibility for herself and her child.

  I quickly gather up Mia’s diaper bag and secure her in her car seat. “Fine. I will leave, but I’m taking Mia with me.” Presley’s face is contorted in anger and she’s struggling to catch her breath. “You need to get yourself together and fast. You’re acting like a selfish coward.”

  “Shut up! Just get the hell out of here and take that with you,” she shouts back, motioning toward Mia when she says the word that. How can she be so cruel toward her baby and best friend? I’m at a complete loss. What do I do?

  “I’m telling Drake about your past. You’ve got to get yourself together and get some help. I know you’re suffering. Please, Presley,” I beg.

  “Go to HELL!” she shouts then slams the door in my face.

  The tears release from my eyes when I walk down the hall and to my car. I can’t believe what’s happening right now.

  ***

  Two more weeks pass by and it will be the first time I’ve seen Presley since our fight. I’ve only been in Sulfur Heights for a month now and nothing is like it was before. Jake and I are blurring the lines in our relationship, Drake is unapproachable and cranky, and Presley… she’s just lost. There’s so much stress surrounding me right now; I’m torn between keeping true to my word or risking the loss of my best friend. Presley will never forgive me if I tell Drake about her past, but if I don’t, something terrible will happen. I’ve been toggling on my decision of whether to talk to Drake or not; however I’ve finally made up my mind. He has to know.

  Drake has stopped allowing Presley to be alone with Mia, recognizing she has some issues, however he is at a loss as to what to do. He’s not an easy person to approach these days, and when we mention anything about Presley, he shuts down or gets angry. I can see the broken helplessness in his eyes; he doesn’t want to see Presley for what she truly is. She’s a woman who needs help. She’s falling apart piece by piece—minute by minute.

  When I go into the apartment, Presley looks sickly, like she is on her death bed. What has happened to my friend? Enough is enough. I have to tell someone about Presley’s past. She will hate me for telling, but she’s not getting better.

  How should I address Drake? He’s a loose cannon. I learned that the day he confronted me about her pregnancy. Drake is a lit fuse and now, with the discussion of Presley’s well-being, my secret may be the final blow to his sanity. I have to have help, though. Drake needs to understand I only want to help Presley and the only person I think that will convince him of that is Darcie. She’s a powerful presence in the room and Drake won’t be able to ignore it anymore.

  Pulling into the driveway, I take Mia out of the back and carry her in the house. Jake is sitting in the chair, looking a little hungover. He’s lying back in the recliner, watching sports on TV. His hair is wet like he’s fresh from the shower and he’s wearing only a pair of shorts.

  “Hey, D.” He lets the foot rest of the recliner down and kneels down to the floor. Mia is wide awake and stares happily at her uncle. “Hey, Axl. Did you miss your uncle, Jake?”

  He unfastens Mia and lifts the baby in his arms. Jake is unbelievably amazing with Mia. He’s gentle, willing to help me out whenever I need it and I’ve even gotten him to change a dirty diaper once. It was so hilarious; I almost peed myself I was laughing so hard.

  It was a normal day. I had just picked up Mia from Mrs. Fields’s apartment, feeling a little blue about the entire Presley situation when I smelled the smell. Needing a little cheering up, I decided I would make Jake change Mia while I pretended to be busy. I brought h
er into the house and set her down on the living room floor. Like he always does, Jake pulled her from her car seat and started snuggling with her.

  I was in the kitchen making unnecessary noise to let him think I was really busy when I shouted, “Jake, will you change Mia? I’m kind of busy in here.”

  “Sure.” I could hear him getting things out to change her, talking away. Every conversation he tends to have with her is about cars, and then, “AHHHHH! Gross!”

  Mia began to cry and I came walking in the room to Jake dramatically covering his nose, making gagging sounds. “Geez Louise, Jake, it’s just a dirty diaper.”

  Between gagging noises, he said, “It’s… so… gross.”

  I walked up behind him, slapping him on the back. “Jake! You’re making Mia cry. Now stop being a baby and change her diaper.”

  “No fucking way, cupcake. That’s disgusting!” He sounded nasally talking while his hand covered his nose while I was trying really hard not to laugh. He really was being a baby.

  “Jake Evans, Mia may need to change your diapers some day. Now stop acting childish and change your niece’s diaper.” I started making goofy faces to get Mia to stop her crying. When she did, she looked at her uncle like he’d lost his mind. She’s so stinking cute.

  “D… what? That’s way to disturbing to even comment.”

  “Well, it’s true. I highly doubt you’ll have kids of your own, and by the time you’re an old man, this little one may be taking care of you.” Jake’s face was contorted in bewilderment and it made me snicker. He’s such a drama queen sometimes.

  “Fine, just stop talking to me about that shit.” Jake sucked in deep gasp of air and dived in, quickly removing the diaper and wiping her clean. “This is so gross, Axl. I want you to know I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you. Oh, my God… D… I think I’m gonna puke.” He started gagging again and I returned to him with another swat on the back.

  I’m not sure how he did it, but it was in that moment that he realized that while he had been cleaning Mia off, he’d gotten some on his finger.

  “Delilah! I got shit on my finger!”

  I start laughing hysterically now; I’m bent over, holding my stomach, laughing out loud.

  The look of horror was all over his face as he held up his poop covered finger in utter shock. “I got fucking shit on my finger!” Jake then runs to the bathroom scouring his hands with soap, leaving me to finish the diaper change.

  What a memory. Jake talks about that every single time I change her diaper, and when he does change her, he makes sure it’s only a wet one.

  I watch him as he holds Mia. She stares at him adoringly, always loving when Uncle Jake talks to her. Although, I fear the first word she speaks will be a curse word. He and Darcie try, but it must be impossible for them to hold their tongues when it comes to nasty language.

  Jake lifts Mia up on his shoulder and rubs her back while rocking in the recliner. It’s a sweet picture and I can’t help my heart from filling and breaking all in the same action. Jake is a really great guy—look at the way he is with Mia—but his lifestyle will never change. Since I’ve been in town, there have been numerous times where he’s come from the backroom at The Slab with a satisfied look on his face, a girl following closely behind.

  His behavior disgusts me, but why? Last summer, I could care less about what he did with girls and I even accepted it. That’s probably because Emerson and I were happy, but now our relationship is strained. I do love Emerson—well, I think I do—but there’s something holding me back from fully giving myself to him. And that something is a six foot two, smart mouthed jerk, covered in tattoos and oozing sex with everything he does.

  Jake walks from Mia’s room empty handed, and I’m shocked that I haven’t noticed he’s rocked the baby to sleep until then. Jake stretches his arms over his head then drags his hands over his face. “God, I’m so hungover.”

  I glare at him; not because I’m mad at Jake, it’s because I’m mad at myself. Still, I can’t stop myself from snapping at him. It’s frustrating. “Yeah, tramps can be exhausting.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His body tenses and his jaw tightens, which is the classic Jake pre-anger position.

  “Nothing.” I walk into the kitchen, snagging a glass from the cupboard. He stops me, grabbing my arm above the elbow, forcing me to look at him. I concede. “It’s just that you do this crap all the time; drinking and sleeping with random women. The result the next day is always the same—you feel like crap—and yet you do it all over again.”

  “Listen, cupcake, this is my life and I will live it how I want. Stay the fuck out of it.” His voice elevates, and by the end of the conversation, he’s yelling at me. “Why do you care so much anyway?”

  I want to tell him it’s because I’m starting to have feelings for him. I want to tell him that he’s uprooted my well devised life plan. I want to tell him so much of what my heart feels, but I keep my feelings to myself. I can’t stomach the backlash and rejection, so I say instead, “I don’t.”

  I turn my back when Jake exits the kitchen, slamming the basement door behind him. My mind is saying it’s for the best, though my heart feels something entirely different.

  ***

  The day has started out humid for a late June morning, but by afternoon, it is unbearably hot. I love the summer sun. I enjoy lying in it, tanning and warming my skin, however heat like this is too much even for me.

  I’m rehearsing in my head what I will tell Drake about Presley’s past when Darcie comes in through the back door, wearing a pair of short, cut-off denim shorts and a white tank top. Darcie is a really beautiful girl. She has the most mesmerizing green eyes and gorgeous, long, auburn hair.

  I’ve never really looked at Darcie before, and when I do now, I notice her skin is covered in scars. There are small little cuts; round, quarter-sized ones and big healed gashes. I wonder what has happened to her. There’s a painful story behind Darcie’s healed wounds and I’m dying to know what it is.

  Was she in a car accident when she was younger? Did she do this to herself?

  As she takes notice of me staring at her, her face doesn’t break from the TV when she says, “Is there something I can help you with?”

  Her question is filled with sarcasm and her body is straightened defensively. She holds painful memories with the scars that I can see, but is that what I really want her to help me with? She and Presley are close, closer than I like to admit, and I soon realize she can help me. She can help get my friend back.

  “Yes, there is.” Darcie’s eyes meet mine, ready for a verbal catfight, but I refuse to stoop to childish fighting. I have a friend to save and she’s going to help me. “I know you and Presley are close,” I stammer on, finding it hard to release the words. “You know she’s not well, right?”

  Darcie returns her attention to the TV and slouches into the chair, almost defeated. “Yeah, we were close, but lately she’s refused to see me or even speak to me. Reggie told me to stay out of it and let Drake handle it, and I have, but it’s really hard. You know?”

  “Yes… yes, I do know. Something’s wrong with her, more than postpartum depression. It goes deeper than that.” Darcie’s eyes snap to mine in anger. Ready to tear my head off because she knows I have a secret. I break her glare and look down at my hands. “Have you ever made a promise to keep a secret; one that you know that, if you hold it in another second, something awful will happen?”

  Darcie moves to the couch, sitting beside me. At first, I am readying myself for her lashing, but she puts her hand on my back instead, which is completely out of character for her, though it’s comforting. It’s what I need the most now. “Yeah, I do. We all have secrets around here. It’s our way of life.”

  “I can’t keep this in—knowing it could help her—but she’ll never forgive me. I may lose her forever. I’m not sure I can bear that.” The tears fill my eyes and drip down onto my folded hands.

  I glance up at Dar
cie and her look mirrors mine. She has a secret, too, and for the first time she sees what we have in common. A love of a friend. A friend we need in our lives. A friend who’s as good as dead if we don’t spill our secrets.

  Darcie grabs my hands, her eyes encouraging me to speak and I do. “She’s had problems all her life with happiness. When I met her, Presley was constantly bullied, always picked on by stupid kids in her class. Then we became friends; she seemed to be doing better. A few years went by and I noticed Presley would have unusual cuts on her arms.” Darcie sucks in a breath and squeezes my hands, bracing herself for my sad words.

  “I found out she was cutting herself, and when I asked her why, she only said it makes everything else go away. I didn’t know what she meant. Then her parents found out she had weird injuries on her body and tried to ask her about it. To this day, I don’t know what she said to convince them it wasn’t done on purpose. Then it all stopped. She was happy again, for a little while anyways.

  “Another year went by, then another, and I noticed how skinny she was getting. I was twelve, but I was also a pageant queen in my childhood. I knew what girls, and mothers, did to keep their girls skinny. She was slowly starving herself. When I confronted Presley about it, she got very angry and told me to mind my own business. I told her mom and dad, though. They had her admitted in the hospital for depression and anorexia. She stayed there a while, and when she was released, she was a new Presley. She was happy and full of life. I thought nothing could knock her down until her parents died and she moved here.

  “She’s been slipping slowly back into that depression, but when she had Mia, I noticed in the month I’ve been here, she’s spiraled down, fast.” I take another breath and look Darcie in the eyes. I’ve never been so serious in my life and Darcie can see that. She can feel it radiating off me.

  “If we don’t help her, and I mean, now. She will die. I saw her today and she’s nothing but skin. This is what she does when she can’t handle change—she starves herself to take away whatever pain she’s battling.”