by B. B. Hamel
For a second, I thought I was really going to hurt someone. Instead, I slashed that fucker’s tires. Still a little crazy, but not violent or dangerous like I initially intended.
I’m a father now. I have to be better. I can’t let my rage get the best of me anymore. I remember Mia’s words the night that I nearly got killed fighting those five guys, and although I feel betrayed and angry with her, I know she’s right.
I’m a goddamn father now. I can’t be acting like an asshole and getting into fights and doing violent things.
I have to be better. I start my engine. I don’t know what Mia is doing with Caleb, but she’s right about that much at least. I’m going to be better, at least for Noah’s sake.
18
Mia
I hate myself for this.
I feel like everyone is staring at us. They probably are. Caleb smiles at me from across the table and reaches out, taking my hand.
“Aren’t you glad you did this?” he asks me.
I nod a little, but inside my hand feels like it’s on fire where he’s touching it. I look away, down at the floor.
I’m still wearing my work uniform. We’re at one of the fanciest restaurants in town, and although there’s usually an unspoken dress code, they clearly will let Caleb get away with anything he wants. We’re seated in a corner booth, probably the best spot in the whole place, and Caleb ordered us both a glass of wine.
He’s trying to impress me, that much is obvious. He keeps talking about his father’s investments, how they own a stake in this restaurant, how Caleb can come here practically whenever he wants. And apparently, now I can too.
“We own this town now, you know?” he says, grinning at me. “Coming with me, that means you own it, too.”
“That’s nice,” I say, a little distant.
“My father worked very hard to build his empire, and I’m going to expand it. Do you know how hard it is these days to get building permits? So many regulations by the government.” He makes a face. “Idiots think they can help poor people, but you and I know the truth.”
“What truth?” I ask, trying to avoid his gaze. I sip my wine just for something to do.
“Poor people are lazy and worthless. They wouldn’t be so poor if they just worked harder, just like I do.”
I practically gag on my drink. There’s no way this guy has ever worked a day in his life. He has everything given to him. His father is going to give him all the money he ever needs. He’ll start out with so much more and never need to work nearly as hard as those that start out with less.
People like him make me sick.
“What’s the matter?” he asks suddenly.
I realize I must be making some kind of face, so I quickly calm myself. “Nothing,” I say.
“It’s the wine.” He grunts a little. “Waitress!” He flags her down. She walks over, looking a little nervous.
“How is everything. Mr. Carter?”
“This wine, it’s absolute garbage. Please dump the rest of that bottle out and bring us the…” He checks the menu. “The Chateaux ’78, please.”
I glance at the menu. He clearly just chose the most expensive bottle.
“Right away,” she says, and quickly flees before he can do anything else.
“The wine is fine,” I say to him softly, as if from a distance.
“No, it’s trash, please stop drinking it.” He reaches across the table and takes the glass from me quickly. “Anyway, where was I?”
“Owning the town,” I say.
He laughs and launches back into his monologue about destroying regulation and environmental protections in order to keep growing his father’s business.
I don’t say anything for the rest of the meal. I let him rant on and on. Sometimes I make little gestures and noises to indicate that I’m listening, but I can’t engage with him. Everything he says is offensive and morally bankrupt to me.
I don’t know what I’m doing here with this man. He says he’s going to pay for my father’s medical bills, but I’m not sure I even believe him anymore. And based on the way he’s talking, I’m starting to suspect he’s going to destroy the preserve anyway, or at least he’s going to try.
My mind drifts back to Lucas, even though I don’t want it to. I want to stay focused here and forget about what could have been. I made my choice. Lucas tried calling me earlier today, but I just ignored him. I can’t talk to him if I’m going down this path. If I’m going to whore myself out for the things that I love, I need to keep him far away.
He deserves better. Lucas is a good man, even if he has some troubles in his past. He’s trying his best for his family and getting his shit together after the war is clearly hard for him. But he’s trying and I admire him too much to let him get involved with a person like me.
He deserves so much better and I think we both know it.
Soon, the meal comes, and that’s a good distraction. Caleb eventually turns to talking about gossip, chatting about our classmates, making fun of those who went off to college. Caleb doesn’t think he needs college because he has his father’s business to fall back on. I decide not to say anything about that as the meal progresses.
The food is good, but I can barely taste it. Everything seems bland and colorless. Even the wine, which is expensive as hell and should be amazing, just tastes like alcohol to me. I sip it just because he wants me to, but I don’t enjoy anything at all. I feel like all the joy was sucked out of me the moment I stepped into his car.
Eventually, the meal ends, and he insists we go for a walk around the block. It’s a nice night out, and a lot of people are wandering. I try to get out of it by saying that the nurse is going to get off work soon and I need to go home for my father, but he waves me away and says he already sent a replacement.
“Come on, I want to show you off.” He takes my hand and I let him, though I don’t want him to show me off. I’m embarrassed to be seen with him.
“You’re my trophy now, you know that?” he asks. “You’re the woman I need. In business, you need to have a respectable life, and one aspect of that is to have a respectable wife. You’re perfect for that.”
Chills run down my spine. “Wife?” I ask him.
He laughs a little. “Maybe too early to talk about that, of course. But think about it. You’re smart and beautiful. You’d do well in my world, and you would be a big asset to me. Maybe we’re not madly in love, but what’s that matter? We can have an arrangement of some sort.” He grins at me, a little disgusting.
“An arrangement,” I repeat as we walk down the block.
“Of course. We’ll have children, but our relationship doesn’t need to be romantic. We can maybe…” He trails off, but I know where he’s going with this.
It sounds like a living nightmare. I can see myself slowly dying inside as I’m stuck in a loveless marriage with this psychopath, stuck doing his bidding as I raise my children. I’ll be stuck if I ever have children with him, but I can see it all happening, everything he says. He’ll take care of my father for me, and I’ll be his little housewife as he goes around fucking whoever he wants.
It’s a nightmare. A waking nightmare. One that I can see myself getting into if I just keep following this path.
My life would be easy. He’d take care of everything. He’d pay for my father, maybe even keep the preserve safe. I’d be able to buy things, be comfortable, maybe even have some freedom of my own. But I’d have to have his children, live in his world, sacrifice for him.
I don’t know what I want from life, but I know that’s now it.
We come up to a small little park set off to the side, basically a little memorial for civil war veterans. He leads me in there, over toward a bench, and we sit down.
“This can all be ours one day,” he says to me.
“I don’t know.” I stare at him, uncertain.
“It’s very fast. I understand. You need time to really let it sink in. But listen, Mia, if you want to be my wife, we can
have a great life together. I’ll take care of you.”
I bite my lip and look at the ground. He sounds almost normal right now, but his rant at dinner comes back to me. He’s rotten at the core and I know it.
He leans toward me and my heart flutters and flips with fear. He wants to kiss me, I can see it in his eyes and the tilt of his head. For a second, the image of him kissing me passes through my mind, and it just makes me sick.
I pull away. I quickly stand up and step away from him.
“Mia,” he says, standing up. “What are you doing?”
“Caleb—“
“Do you understand our arrangement?” he asks me, eyes narrowing, coming toward me. We’re alone in this park and I’m suddenly afraid. I see that look in his eyes, the same one from the preserve when he snapped that stick and scared me so much.
“I do, but—“
“But nothing,” he says angrily. “You’re mine now. You want me to take care of your father? Save your precious little preserve?”
“Yes,” I say in a small voice.
“Then if I want to kiss you, I will kiss you. Do you understand?”
I stare at him, fear rolling through me. “No,” I say.
“No?” He cocks his head. “No? That’s not the right answer.”
“No,” I say again, more forcefully.
That’s when it happens. That’s when his mask falls off, replaced by a visage of total horror and anger. He grabs my shoulders and throws me down violently, slamming me into the ground.
I don’t feel any pain. It’s just numb horror. I curl into a ball, covering my head, waiting for the blows to start raining down on my head. He’s going to beat me to death right here because I defied him, and there’s nothing I can do.
Instead, he doesn’t touch me. Slowly, I look up at him, and there’s a strange look on his face. It’s half pity, half disgust.
“Get up,” he says. “Come on, I didn’t push you that hard. Get up.”
I climb slowly to my feet, brushing myself off.
“Okay, you’re okay,” he says to me. “You’re fine. I barely touched you, okay?”
I nod at him, not saying a word, still terrified that he’ll snap. The mask is back up, covering the demon that hiding beneath, but I know it’s there now. I know it’ll come back out, and eventually it’ll stay out.
I made a horrible, horrible mistake.
He takes me by the hand and we head back to his car. He walks again, this time hurriedly, almost manic, trying to pretend like he didn’t throw me violently to the ground. But we both know it happened, and we both know what it means.
It means that if I keep this up and marry him, I’m in for a life of abuse.
We get into his car and he drives me home. He drops me off and doesn’t try to kiss me again, which I’m thankful for. He watches as I go inside, and then drives off.
When he’s gone, I wave to the nurse, but I have to run into the bathroom upstairs.
I puke my guts up. All that expensive wine and food comes up in waves, and I’m shaking in a cold sweat. I keep seeing that face, that horrible expression on Caleb’s face as he threw me to the ground. My life with him flashes before my eyes, and I know nothing is worth that.
I finish getting sick and lean back against the tub. There’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I say weakly.
The nurse steps in. I don’t recognize her. “You okay, honey?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “Just something I ate.”
“Should I stay?”
I shake my head. “No, please. Go home. I’ll be okay.”
“He ate. He’s down in front of the television.” She frowns. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m sure.” I smile weakly. “I’m done getting sick. I promise.”
She nods, clearly concerned, but turns and leaves. I flush the toilet and wash my mouth out with cold water. I brush my teeth and splash water on my face.
I glance down at myself then pull my phone from my pocket. Without thinking, I call Lucas.
I know it’s unfair. It’s fucked up. I’m a terrible, terrible person, but I’m so afraid. I did this to myself, and I don’t deserve him, but I need to talk to someone. I can’t talk to Jordan and I can’t talk to my father. Lucas is the only person in this world who cares about me, and I’m afraid I fucked that up.
He doesn’t answer. It’s probably better this way. I put my phone back in my pocket and take a deep breath.
I look into the mirror and don’t love what I see.
I meant well. I wanted to help my father and the preserve, but I made a horrible, horrible mistake.
And now I’ll pay the price.
I leave the bathroom and head downstairs to take care of my father.
19
Lucas
When Mia calls, I don’t answer.
I just can’t. Not yet, at least. I know there’s probably some good explanation for why she got into that car with Caleb, but I just don’t think I’m ready to hear it right now. I still feel angry and hurt, and I’m afraid that I’ll say something that I’ll regret.
Because I still want her. Despite everything, I still want her. I can’t just turn that part of myself off, even though I wish I could. I want to pretend like none of this happened and move on from her, but I just can’t.
I keep seeing her smiling face, radiant in the beautiful afternoon sun. I keep feeling her skin, tasting her lips, hearing her laugh.
I put Noah to bed and Alice turns in early, leaving me alone in the house. The baby monitor sits next to me but Noah is fast asleep as I sip my whisky, staring at the television, trying not to think.
I should probably get some sleep. Midnight rolls around, and I’m still awake, drinking my second and final whisky. I can’t have any more and risk getting drunk, not with Noah in my life. I wish I could drink the whole fucking bottle and forget how I feel, turn it all off, but I can’t be that man. It’s time for me to be better.
As I’m sitting there, contemplating bed, I hear something. There’s a noise outside. It’s a car door slamming, and nearby. Two more car door slam shut, and I hear voices.
The voices get closer and closer, and I think I recognize one of them. Suddenly, I hear a smashing noise on the front porch.
Adrenaline spikes through me. I quickly get up, run into my bedroom, and get my spare gun from my bureau. I make sure it’s loaded before running back out front.
The voices are still there and there’s more smashing noises. It sounds like they’re breaking everything we have out there, chairs included. I walk to the window and peer out slowly.
I quickly recoil and curse. It’s fucking Dylan Carter and two of his fucking friends. I flip on the porch light and the noise stops. Carefully, I open the front door.
Dylan Carter is standing there, a sick smile on his face.
“Think you could get away with it, asshole?” he says. His friends grin behind him.
“Not sure what you mean.” I grip the gun behind my back.
“Come on, pussy, you really going to pretend like you didn’t slash my fucking tires?” I can see the unhinged anger in his eyes.
So maybe I was wrong about the cameras. “You should leave,” I say to him.
“We fucking saw you, asshole. You’re lucky we’re not going to the cops. You understand that? You fucking owe me new tires.”
“I don’t owe you shit.” It’s actually surprising that he’s not going to the police. I wonder what’s holding him back.
“You think you’re fucking great, don’t you?” Dylan asks, his voice low and menacing. “Big bad Navy SEAL back home and ready to be the cool guy in town again. But guess what, asshole? You’re nothing. You’re a fly under my fucking boot.”
“Get off my porch,” I say to him again.
“Come outside, you fucking pussy,” he says. “Come out and fight us. You got lucky last time, but you don’t have anybody here to help you.”
I want to do it. I want to go
out there and beat the fucking hell out of these three assholes. I know I could do it, too. I fought them once before.
But I’m being a better man. I’m growing up. I’m an adult now and a father. Mia’s words again, ringing in my ears.
So I open the screen door and point my gun in Dylan’s fucking face.
He freezes instantly. His cocky grin is replaced by total abject horror. One of his friends bolts, running as fast as he can away.
“Some friend,” I say to Dylan. “Just left you here to die.”
“Jesus man. It’s just a chair. I’ll replace it.” He’s shaking.
“Listen to me, Dylan. Leave me alone. And leave Mia alone while you’re at it.”
“Whatever you want,” he says. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just let us go.”
“Next time, I’ll kill you. I’ve killed before and I won’t hesitate. Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” he says.
I lower my gun slightly. “Run away now.”
He turns and bolts back to his car. His braver or stupider friend follows him. They get in and drive off.
I sigh, putting my gun in my jeans and looking at the mess on the porch. I straighten it up a little bit, but I’ll fix it all in the morning. I walk over to the driveway and groan when I find all of the tires on our cars are slashed.
Fucking stupid. What a goddamn dumb move to make on my part. I should never have gone to the Carter house. I should have known better. Of course they had cameras, just because I didn’t spot them didn’t mean they weren’t there. They probably have a state of the art system, one I’m not trained to see.
Now our tires are slashed, and that’s not going to be cheap to fix. Alice is going to be pissed.
I check my watch. I can go back inside, get a few hours sleep, and then call a tow truck in the morning. I don’t have enough spares to change all four. I’ll get both cars towed, tires changed, and hopefully have them back by the morning. If not, we’re taking the bus to work. And Alice is going to be livid.
I groan and head back inside. I glance down at my phone at the missed call from Mia and wonder what the fuck I’ve gotten myself into. I should be more worried, but oddly enough I’m just happy that she decided to call me. After all this, she still wants to talk to me.