“What did you just say?”
The entire house shifted and I felt the blood rush from my head. Surely I was hearing things. Maybe I drank too much at Finn’s party. I did take a couple drinks from people I didn’t know. Maybe something was slipped in my drink and I was really passed out somewhere in Finn’s garage, having a nightmare. All of that sounded better than what I’d heard.
Without fear, I pushed into his space.
“You’re not my father,” I said simply.
Somehow it made sense, and somehow it made the years of sex with this man a tiny bit better, but still, I felt sick to my stomach.
I looked up at him. I really looked at him like I hadn’t in many years since I didn’t have the nerve. I took in his facial features and his dark-brown eyes. Then my thoughts rushed to Sydney and her green eyes and then my mom… Her eyes were green as well. And just like that, everything was clear.
“You’re not. Oh my God, you’re not my father.”
He didn’t deny it. “It doesn’t matter. I raised you.”
“You abused me my entire life!” I yelled.
As soon as the words flew out of my mouth, he hushed me with the back of his hand. My face stung and my ears rang.
“You’ve always been a selfish girl, Patience. Do you know that?” He dug his fingers into my cheeks and forced me to look at him. “Are you so selfish that you’d tell your mother something like that so close to her death? Do you really want her to die with that on her chest? Let it go. You liked it as much as I did.”
And then he turned and walked away. I stood there and let everything sink in and then I crumpled to the floor with melted bones and cried until I fell asleep.
The next day I stayed in my room for most of the morning. I debated on whether or not to go to my mother and demand to know why no one told me the governor wasn’t my real father, but just like I’d never tell about the sexual abuse, I’d never tell her that I knew. It wouldn’t change anything, and with my mother on her death bed, I didn’t want to give her any reason to not die peacefully.
Then the memory of my mother telling me about her first love sank in. Maybe that was her way of telling me. Maybe that was her way of getting it off of her chest. My real father was a bad boy named Robert that she’d been forbidden to see. How fitting that I’d be in love with a bad boy myself. It was in my blood.
The man I’d been calling Dad my entire life wasn’t my dad, but he was definitely Sydney’s. She looked just like him, with the exception of her eyes. All these years, I’d been worried about him going to Sydney, and all these years she was really his while I wasn’t. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to do things to me. Maybe the thought that my blood wasn’t his own made it okay in his mind to have sex with me. Either way, I’d still keep a close eye on Sydney. The man was obviously sick and sick people aren’t picky.
Later that afternoon, the man who was working on Zeke’s guitar called and said it was all finished. He didn’t want to see me, but I knew what I had for him would make him happy.
I drove to the man’s shop. The little bell above the door sounded like my name when it rang. I pressed my forearms against the front counter and fidgeted as I waited for someone to help me.
A little gray-headed man came around from the back with a smile.
“What can I do for you, sweetie?”
“I dropped off a guitar and you called and said it was ready.”
I gave him my name. When he came out from the back again, he had a black guitar case in his hands.
“Here you go, little lady,” he said as he set the guitar case onto the counter.
He popped open the little latches on the side and opened the case. Inside was the black Fender I picked out. The bits of Zeke’s old guitar were intricately added to the front of the new guitar beautifully, especially the part where his mom had signed her name. It was personalized just for him.
He had no idea I’d picked up the broken bits of his guitar. I still felt like it was my fault that his most prized possession was destroyed. The least I could do was replace it, and I thought using pieces of the precious guitar his mother bought for him was a perfect idea.
I paid the man behind the counter an obscene amount of money and then walked to my car with the guitar in hand. Megan told me Zeke was staying with Tiny, so I called her and got directions to their apartment.
The drive across town wasn’t so shocking anymore. I remembered going to Zeke’s side of the world the first time and thinking how disgusting the place was. I remember thinking I could never live in a place like that, but now, when I drove to anywhere he was, I felt like I was going home, like I didn’t grow up in a million-dollar house, like I belonged somewhere for the first time in my life.
The ghetto apartment complex was worse than Zeke’s trailer park. I tapped on the door and was shocked when Tiny answered in his boxers.
“Is Zeke here?” I asked.
His eyes roamed up and down my body and I felt dirty.
“No, he went over to his dad’s place to get the rest of his shit.”
That wasn’t good.
“He went alone?” I asked with wide eyes.
He looked at me like I was an idiot.
“Ah, yeah. He left about…”
I didn’t even listen to the rest. I rushed to my car and jumped in. Thankfully, the apartment complex wasn’t far from the trailer park.
His dad’s tow truck was nowhere in sight, but his car was parked in the yard when I got there. I could hear his loud stereo outside the trailer, and I thought it was strange that he’d come to his dad’s and play loud music. I knocked extra hard on his door and after five knocks he never came. I was starting to get worried, so I tried the doorknob.
The door opened and I slipped into the small, smoky space. I shut the door behind me and called out his name. Still, I got no answer, which meant either he couldn’t hear me or I couldn’t hear him. The music was so loud it seemed to be shaking the tiny trailer. The guitar was pulling my arm down, so I sat it up on the grimy, plaid couch and worked my arm to ease the tension that had worked into my elbow.
I heard a noise coming from his room and figured he was back there packing. Maybe he had his shirt off and I’d catch him with only a pair of those deliciously ripped jeans he was fond of. Hopefully they were the ones that barely held onto his hips and showed his sexy tattoos. I’d seen him without a shirt on before and I’d seen every tattoo he had down into his pants line. I wasn’t disappointed; nothing physical about Zeke was disappointing.
I found it funny that such a dangerous guy like Zeke would be the one that finally caught my attention. I wasn’t the kind of girl that looked for trouble. Especially since trouble seemed to find me at least once a week, but something about him caught me and reeled me in. Getting to know him and seeing the secret parts of him made my attachment to him all the better. He was perfect for me.
The soft floor of the hallway buckled under my feet. The door to his bedroom was cracked so I pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped inside. I’d secretly wished I’d catch Zeke half naked, but when I’d wished that, I’d wished he was alone when I caught him. What I saw before me was like a punch to the ribs.
Zeke was lying on his bed, his hands behind his head as he relaxed against the headboard. The redhead straddling him was pressing herself against him in every way possible. The rhythm of the headboard hitting the brown paneled wall made my stomach turn. The sounds of the creaking mattress made me want to drop to my knees and cover my ears. I knew those sounds well and they brought nothing but nightmares.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to slowly dissolve into nothing and float away in the air, blown around by the clicking, circulating fan at the foot of his bed. The messed-up part was I couldn’t be mad. He wasn’t mine and as badly as I wanted to be the one having carefree sex with him, I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t do it.
Seriously? What else could the universe drop on me at this point? I’d
all but died inside on several occasions in my life. You’d think finally I’d just drop, but I kept going and I kept running into things that broke down my spirit. Seeing Zeke have sex with another girl was breaking me big time.
In that moment the remaining open doors to my soul slammed shut. Zeke was it for me, and if I couldn’t bring myself to give him the part of me that was taken away so many years ago, then there would be no one else. All the thoughts of a physical relationship in my life drifted away. The thoughts of marriage, children, or real life in general were gone in the blink of an eye.
He was only receiving what I could never give him. Proof was purring and bouncing in front of me. I could never be what Zeke needed or wanted. The crescent moon tattoo on her lower back matched the star tattoo on his hand that was now gripping her ass. I couldn’t take my eyes off the two tattoos. They were symbolic to me. They were a sign that they belonged together and I was the starless wonder who belonged in the sanitized, padded walls of my supposed safe world. The truth was I was safer in this broken-down trailer park surrounded by drug deals and gang members than I was in my own home.
And then I saw his snowflake tattoo and I died a little more. How could he brand me on his skin that way and then have carefree, meaningless sex with someone else? What kind of person does that?
I stared at the single snowflake. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.
The redhead made a loud whining noise, causing me to avert my attention. I knew in the back of my mind I should slowly exit the room, but I couldn’t peel my eyes away from her. The way her long, crimson curls swayed across her hips, the arch in her back, her perfect rhythm as she pleasured him with her body—it was all so hypnotic. She gave herself so freely and I envied that freedom.
I listened to the noises that spilled from her lips as she achieved a passion I’d never know, and it was almost musical. I should hate her, but she was magnificent and seductive, all things I longed to be. I wanted to look away, but something about the scene was strangely beautiful. Take away the fact that my Zeke was having sex with another woman. Take away the fact that my heart was shriveling into a pile of nothing in my chest. She was a girl I’d never be and watching her freedom was breathtaking.
This was how it was supposed to be for a girl. The creaking mattress and the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall were supposed to be a good thing. The redhead was lucky. She didn’t cower in fear at the erotic noises. She didn’t feel like crying and dropping to the floor in the fetal position if someone touched her. She was exactly what Zeke needed. She was what he deserved and I was not.
Slowly, I backed away toward the door, but before I could look away, I saw Zeke’s eyes land on me. The noises stopped and he used his hands to stop her bouncing hips. The embarrassment of being caught watching set in and I felt heat fill my cheeks. I bet the redhead didn’t blush like a little girl. I bet the redhead was a real woman, a woman who could say the word penis without giggling.
I felt the doorframe connect with my back. It stopped me from making a quick escape. The redhead slung her head around and with big eyes she looked at me in annoyance.
“Snowflake,” Zeke said. His voice was strained and he was out of breath.
A fine sheen of sweat covered his body and all the enjoyment left his eyes as he stared back at me. A strange emotion that bordered heartbreak crossed his expression, but him being hurt made no sense to me. Why would being caught in the middle of hot sex hurt his feelings? Actually, since when did Zeke Mitchell have any feelings? I’d been mistaken for a little while, but it was obvious he’d been right. I was way out of my league.
I felt like I should say something. I felt like I needed to let them know I knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, but my tongue seemed to be swollen to the size of a balloon and it felt like it was full of lead. No matter how badly I wanted to smile like it was no big deal and say something witty, I couldn’t force my lips to move and my voice seemed to be stuck somewhere in the bottom of my lungs, which I couldn’t fill.
“I’m sorry.” The words squeaked out of my mouth. They were small and insignificant, like me.
And then my legs didn’t feel numb anymore and somehow I managed to turn and step out of the room. The hallway of Zeke’s trailer never seemed so long. It suddenly loomed in front of me and I didn’t think I’d ever make it to his front door. The sinking floor felt like it was consuming my feet with each step until finally I made it.
The aluminum door caught the wind when I opened it and had it not been for the rusted chain that kept the door in reach, it would have smacked into the trailer. I used the doorframe to hold myself up when a wave of dizziness swept through me. I silently wondered to myself if anyone had ever died from heartbreak. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and my brain was misfiring. I couldn’t think straight. Little things like moving my legs and walking out of his trailer were too difficult for me to comprehend.
Finally, my motor skills kicked in and I could move again. The cool breeze kissed my cheeks as I stepped out onto the rocky porch. I pushed the door shut and slipped down the wooded stairs. Halfway to my car I felt the sprinkle of rain against my hair. It wasn’t until I was safe in my car that I realized there were actual tears on my cheeks.
I silently prayed to myself that they didn’t come until I was out of Zeke’s house. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me cry. He never needed to know how much I cared about him. He never needed to know the final piece of me that had been holding on flittered away to nothing when I saw him with her.
Twenty-One
Zeke
Walking away from Patience was hard, but it was necessary. The look on her face when I walked away from her would live in my nightmares for a while.
I didn’t even tell Finn I was leaving. Instead, I walked out and drove drunk as fuck to the park by the Boy’s Club. It reminded me of Patience and I felt close to her there. I could still remember that first kiss with her. It was beyond amazing.
I lifted my trusty bottle of Everclear and finished it. I was so drunk my lips were going numb. I got out and jumped into the bed of my car. I pushed some trash over and lay flat on my back. Staring up at the stars, I passed out.
The next morning, I woke up stiff and hung over. I drove back to the apartment and then stood in the hot shower until I started to feel alive again. When I got out, Tiny was sitting on the couch in his boxers, playing Xbox.
“Dude, what happened to you last night?” he asked without taking his eyes away from his game.
“I got drunk and passed out at the park.”
I opened the fridge and downed some tomato juice. Dad swore by it for a hangover. Turns out he was right. I stocked up the minute I knew I’d be doing some heavy drinking. I crashed onto the couch next to Tiny.
“Why do you play this shit, man? It hurts my brain just watching.”
“You don’t know nuttin’ about some Skyrim,” he said as he fought some crazy-looking giant on the screen.
“Yeah, you have fun with that. I’m going over to my old man’s house to get my shit. I’ll be back.”
I got off the couch and started toward the door.
“Yeah, see you later.”
Not once did he take his eyes off the screen.
A few minutes later, I pulled into my dad’s empty yard. I’d never been so happy to see his truck gone. The shitty front porch buckled as I ran up the steps to the front door. The door popped open with little effort and the smell of beer was stronger than ever when I walked in.
I didn’t waste any time. I went straight to my old bedroom and started packing my shit into black trash bags I’d grabbed in the kitchen. I was almost done when I heard the door open. I froze. The thought of my dad coming home sucked. It was the last thing I wanted to deal with right now. I’m sure he was sour as shit about getting his ass kicked.
I peeked down the hallway, expecting to see his large frame approaching. Instead, Stephanie, the redhead, stood there. She smiled seductively as she slowly walked down
the hallway toward my room.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I turned away and started packing. “How did you know where I was?”
“I didn’t. I was across the street, hanging out with my girl, when I saw you pull up. I thought I’d come over and see if there was anything I could help you with. Finn told me you were moving in with Tiny. I figured you were packing.”
She ran a painted fingernail across the top of my old, broken dresser.
“Finn has a big fucking mouth,” I said dryly.
“So do I.” She grinned over at me.
I didn’t miss her meaning. She made it even more obvious when she looked down at the crotch of my pants. I felt my cock get hard under her gaze. It’s not like I could help it. It had been weeks since I had a woman and being teased by Patience every time I got around her didn’t help. Maybe if I got it out of my system I wouldn’t be so caught up on Patience. Maybe all I needed was a good, hard, meaningless fuck.
“Pretty much, you came over here to get laid?” I asked bluntly as I sat down on my old bed.
She laughed. “Well, we can talk, too. I have a lot on my chest that you could maybe help soothe.” She smirked.
Fuck it. I was done over thinking shit. It was time old Zeke came back and squashed all this emotional bullshit.
“I think you should come sit right here and tell me all about it.” I patted the crotch of my jeans.
She moved like a cat across my room, unbuttoning her top on the way to my bed. When she reached the side of my bed, she was in only her sexy little skirt and a lacey black bra that left nothing to the imagination. It was fucking hot and I should’ve been all about dipping my cock in that red-hot piece, but my thoughts kept going back to Patience.
She seemed to think I was so much better than this. Well, she was wrong. I wasn’t better than this. This was who I was; this was who I’d always be.
Stephanie climbed onto my lap. I worked my hands up her thighs and under her skirt. I was met with stringy panties and a soft, wet spot.
Playing Patience Page 20