Broken World

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Broken World Page 10

by Ford, Lizzy


  He faces me. I drop my hand, searching his gaze for some sign of Dom-my-friend, not Dom-the-police-officer.

  “Seriously. Thank you for caring about me enough to be here,” I tell him. “It means a lot to me.”

  He hesitates then mumbles, “You’re welcome, Mia” before he moves away.

  I’m not sure why I’m disappointed by his response, maybe because he’s still hiding from me. I’m sick of that shit where everyone has two faces. Not my Dom, now that I know he does care. I call out after him.

  “I’ll text you from my ditch!”

  “You know it won’t come to that,” he replies over his shoulder.

  “Whatever you say, hero.”

  That stops him. He lets out an aggravated sigh that almost makes me smile then faces me once more.

  “My six-year-old niece uses that tone with me when I won’t take her for ice cream. You know what I do?” he asks. He walks towards me, pausing a couple feet away.

  I smile and shake my head. The mention of his niece brings warmth to his features, replacing the tension from the conference room.

  “I hang her upside down by her feet. And then we go get ice cream.”

  “I’ll pass on being hung upside down,” I say with a small laugh. “But you can take me for ice cream.” Too late, I realize what I’ve said. I’m surprised by my words and even more surprised to realize I don’t regret them. At all.

  Dom studies me for a moment. “There’s a line right here” he draws an imaginary line between us “that we can’t cross until you’re eighteen.”

  I flush and look down.

  “If, in a few weeks, you want to cross it, call me,” he continues in the same soft voice. “I’ll take you out for ice cream.”

  My breath catches at his words. I meet his gaze again. He’s serious.

  “Totally up to you,” he says. He raises his hands in surrender and takes a few steps back.

  “After all this, you really want anything to do with me?” I can’t help the note of disbelief in my voice.

  “Just, if you’re … whatever. Interested. No pressure, though.”

  For the first time since I met him, Dom seems less-than-certain. Or flustered. Or … nervous?

  “Take care,” he says then turns and strides down the hall.

  I watch him. Then I smile. I don’t think this went the way either of us thought it would, but I’m thrilled by the idea that he just sort of asked me out. I thought I’d never want anything to do with men, but I’m beginning to think I want something to do with Dom when all of this is over.

  He disappears around a corner. I’m feeling close to the happiest I’ve been since the nightmare began this summer. Until the door to the dreaded conference room opens.

  “We need you to read over your statement and sign it,” Chris says, standing in the doorway.

  There goes any happiness. I trudge in. Rereading the long, long statement takes me to tears again. I sign it and pass it back to the DA. It’s near midnight when I walk out of the courthouse. Chris says nothing to me as we walk to the awaiting car and nothing when we get in.

  Finally, I ask him. “Did Daddy kick me out?”

  “No.”

  “It sounds like he did.”

  “The situation is not good,” Chris says vaguely.

  “Chris, please tell me what’s going on,” I beg. “And how Daddy found out about … about Saturday.”

  “I’m not sure, Mia. The leak didn’t come from Molly or me. I can’t inquire too much, or someone else will find out. How did Molly coordinate with you?”

  “We met for brunch and she texted me the room. We talked about it over the phone once or twice.”

  “Has your phone been out of your possession?”

  “No, of course not. Well, actually, yeah,” I say. “For cheer practice.”

  He holds out his hand. I grudgingly hand over my phone.

  “I’ll get you a new one tomorrow.”

  “You think someone did something to it?” I asked, surprised.

  “It’s a possibility.”

  He looks out the window. I sense there’s a lot he’s not saying. I fidget without my phone.

  “You did well tonight,” he says. “I’ll deal with your father for the next few weeks. We have to prepare for the investigation to hit the papers, once they name Robert Connor.”

  I nod. “Are you serious about pulling me out of school?”

  “I’ve already called the school. You’ll finish out the school year online and with a tutor.”

  “Sounds awesome,” I mutter. “Why did you ask them to wait until I’m eighteen, if Daddy’s not gonna kick me out?”

  “I can’t guarantee he won’t,” Chris said, frustration in his voice. “Your mother is supporting you, but all he has to do is file a motion revealing her mental state is less than stable.”

  “Oh.”

  “We keep it quiet for two weeks, and then you’ll be eighteen and can decide for yourself.”

  “Chris, why are you helping me?” I ask.

  “Every once in awhile, I grow a conscience.”

  His tone is serious. I want to laugh, but don’t. Before this summer, I never knew Chris was anything other than Daddy’s lackey.

  “I’m sorry for being a bitch to you,” I tell him. “It’s been a rough few weeks.”

  “You keep me on my toes.”

  I snort. “I’m not cut out for the political life. I never understood it until my … incident. I never got that there are two faces to everyone around me. I never understood why I’m not like Molly or Mom.”

  “You understand now?”

  “Yeah. In two weeks, are you no longer my lawyer?”

  “I’ll handle this until it’s through.”

  “Just another issue, huh.”

  He looks at me. His game face is still on. “You’re doing the right thing, Mia. Stay focused on getting through this. I’ll be right beside you.”

  “That’s it,” I snap. I didn’t take Dom’s crap, and I’m not about to take Chris’s. “If you’re going to be someone I can trust, I need to know.”

  He glances at me. I hold my breath, not about to back down. I, too, am a strong-willed Abbott-Renou, and tonight, I’m going to act like it.

  “When you’re eighteen, we’ll talk about another well-kept family secret,” he says. “For now, just know this. When you made your choice to come forward, I, too, had to make a choice between supporting you and supporting Gerard. I love my brother, Mia, and I love you. It wasn’t easy for me, but I want to do the right thing, same as you. I want to be the person you deserve to have backing you.”

  I’m amazed by his heartfelt words and touched to know that he, too, is choosing me. Weeks ago, I never felt more alone. Now, I wonder what I ever did to deserve having him, Dom and Ari in my life.

  I’m so tired and sick of always crying, so I swallow my tears. I wonder briefly what the family secret is he’s talking about then decide I really don’t want to know what other horrible skeletons are in my family’s closet. I’ve had enough today.

  “Stay out of trouble and the press. Go to school, go to cheer practice, go to your community service,” he instructs me, all-business again. “Don’t raise any suspicions, and don’t tell anyone about this, even Ari.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Shea’s working up a publicity package and damage control,” Chris says. “The Connors are going to know before the rest of the world.”

  “It sounds like we’re planning a war.”

  “Yeah. We are.”

  I don’t like the way that sounds. I’m happy I have a place to live, at least until I’m eighteen.

  When we get home, I break out my diary. I’m almost too tired to see straight, but I need to write down the one thought that keeps crossing my mind.

  Dear Diary-

  I did it. I stood up to Daddy today. It was awful. BUT I DID IT.

  The memory of what he’d said, how he’d looked at me makes my eyes water. Jus
t as quickly, I remind myself that finally, after years of groveling for the smallest sign he loved me, I did something that I’m truly proud of. I did the right thing. I’m helping to save other women’s lives.

  And I don’t care what Daddy thinks.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, I’m late to my first class and pissed. Chris took my iPad as I walked out the door, and I couldn’t coordinate with Ari about where to meet before class. I waited for her at her locker until I was late for class. I walk in and duck my head. Everyone stares at me as I make my way to the back of class.

  Benji smiles at me as I slide into the desk beside his.

  “Ari said to tell you she’s got the flu,” he whispers.

  “Seriously?” I ask, irritated. “Why’d she tell you and not me?”

  He shrugs. “Said she couldn’t get you on the phone last night.”

  Bitch. Leaves me alone at school to face Jenna and the rest of the world alone.

  Actually, it’s Chris’s fault for taking my phone yesterday.

  “You wanna go out sometime?” Benji asks. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but you’re hard to catch sometimes.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. I just want to survive the next few weeks, until shit hits the fan and I’m trapped in my house for the rest of my life. “I’ve got a lot going on.” I can’t help thinking I’d rather have ice cream with Dom and his niece than go out with Benji.

  “Yeah, I know. But maybe it’ll take your mind off things.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I turn eighteen Friday. I’m having a party.”

  No way in hell. I never, ever want to go to another party.

  “Or we can go out Saturday,” he says at my silence. “You’re a September baby, aren’t you?”

  “October first,” I answer. “Thanks, but I’m not much of one for parties anymore.”

  “Oh, god, I didn’t even think of that,” Benji says, his eyes widening. “I mean, I don’t …”

  “It’s okay,” I assure him. “Thanks for asking.”

  “Sorry, yeah.” His face is red. “Maybe Saturday? Sound better?”

  I hesitate. Benji is tall and handsome, and I would’ve totally dived at the chance to date him last year. Or even, this summer, before the incident. So much has changed.

  “I think it’s just too soon for me,” I tell him honestly. “If you need a date, I can hook you up with Ari.” I almost laugh when I say the words. Normally, Ari has a line of men and I’m watching her try to pick which one.

  Our whispering draws the attention of the teacher, and we are quiet for a few minutes.

  “Hey, can you?” Benji asks, once the teacher turns her back. “Ask Ari?”

  “I can. And I know she’ll want to,” I tell him.

  If I had my damn phone or iPad, I could text her. I’m fidgeting again. By the end of the day, I’m ready to kill someone. I feel vulnerable and anxious without my phone. To make matters worse, I’ve still got cramps and am bleeding heavily. I just want to curl up in my room and stay there.

  At cheer practice, Jenna won’t even look at me, probably because of something Chris said to her legal team. I dance hard and stay long, needing the outlet, until I see Fabio walk across the football field.

  With no phone, I have no concept of time. Fabio comes to get me, and we leave. I arrive to the women’s clinic late, dressed in my cheer practice clothing, and still in an awful mood.

  Gianna passes me twice before stopping. I eye her.

  “Okay, rough day, I get it,” she says.

  “This has been the longest day of my life,” I moan. “I have no phone. I can’t stand it.”

  “You play sports?” She looks at my outfit.

  “I cheer.”

  “I noticed you’re a bit more talkative on days you cheer.”

  “I feel like I’m gonna explode most days.”

  I see her click into counselor mode and groan as she pulls up a chair. I rest my forehead on the desk, hoping she’ll take the hint.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I already have a shrink. I see him four days a week,” I reply.

  “How do you release stress?”

  “I don’t knoooooooow,” I groan.

  “I go to cheer practice, Gianna,” she says in a funny voice.

  I can’t help my smile. Sensing my thaw, she keeps at me.

  “Are you good at any sports?”

  “You’re not gonna stop bugging me are you?” I ask.

  “Persistence runs rampant in the family.”

  “Yeah, I figured that out.”

  Gianna doesn’t move.

  “Yes, I’ve played sports.” I sigh.

  “Which ones?”

  “Basketball, soccer and field hockey. Beating up the girl at school was really nice, too.”

  Gianna laughs. “Martial arts, maybe? You know, we encourage women to learn self-defense. It might help you adjust and get rid of some of that pent-up emotion.”

  “Never thought about self-defense,” I say. “A little late to learn.”

  “It’s never too late to learn.”

  “I’ll think about it. Do you have classes here?”

  “Yep. We have a gym here. Dom and our oldest brother, Tony, the other cop in the family, and a few other cops volunteer to teach self-defense a couple times a week.”

  “Um, maybe I’ll stick to basketball,” I say at Dom’s name.

  “I’ll show you. You can try it once and if you don’t like it -”

  “Wait, that’s the same thing you said about group counseling.” I frown.

  “I told you, I help people. Come on.”

  I follow her grudgingly. We walk through the medical area and through a hallway I haven’t explored yet. The door at the far end leads to a sagging gym that smells of old gym socks. Worn blue mats are set up on one side. Women are paired up and practicing throwing each other down.

  “Tonight’s class,” Gianna says, motioning to it. “Basketballs are there. We leave the mats out, in case people want to come and do yoga or stretch or anything.”

  My eyes are on the instructor. He’s not Dom, and he doesn’t look like he’s an older brother of the two siblings. I look over the gym.

  “You’re welcome to come here whenever,” Gianna says. “What other ways can you relieve stress in a healthy way?”

  “Daddy’s got a gym in the house,” I say.

  “Okay, good. Basketball, gym, cheer squad. Do you know how to tell you need to do something or do you hit the boiling point and snap?” As she talks, she moves back into the hallway, and we walk towards the medical clinic.

  “Snap usually,” I admit.

  “Maybe you should start doing something every day in the morning.”

  “I guess.” I know she’s right, but I’m kinda sick of people trying to fix me.

  “Okay, I’m done for today,” Gianna says. “You sleeping any better?”

  “I did almost sleep through the night last night. First time since the incident,” I say. “I was probably just really tired.”

  “Good. Take those little victories.”

  She’s right. I like the idea of little victories. Benji is a little victory for Ari, who has been so sweet to me the past few weeks. If I can deliver him to her with a bow on his head, I will. I fidget again, needing to text someone, anyone.

  “It’s eight. Your car should be here,” Gianna says as we reach my desk. “See you Saturday?”

  I nod and bolt. My car is there, and I go home then head straight to the study to see Chris.

  My new phone is waiting for me on the study table. Chris is working. He doesn’t even look up. I snatch my phone, intending to run. I’ve got messages already.

  “How was school?” Chris asks. “Any issues?”

  “Nope.”

  “Should I be expecting any phone calls? Articles in the press?”

  “I was good. Promise.”

  He says nothing else, and I leave. I see Ari’s messages and voicem
ails and text her quickly to see if she’s feeling better. I can’t remember ever feeling so relieved at holding my phone.

  I’ve got one from Benji, too, about his party Friday. He sent it yesterday night, before I told him no this morning. He makes a joke about us both being legal soon. For some reason, it pisses me off. My whole life is on hold until I’m legal in two weeks.

  I stop midway up the stairs to type him an angry response then think twice. Benji can’t know what I’ve gone through the past few days. He’s just being a typical guy.

  “What’s wrong?” Chris calls, heading towards the door. He glances up at me.

  “Nothing. Going to my room.” I bound up the stairs to my room and close the door.

  I read through my texts, laughing at Ari’s. She was bored most of the day and complaining about how I didn’t answer her. I call her.

  “Oh, finally,” she whines as she answers the phone.

  “You sound awful.”

  “I feel awful. It’s not even flu season.”

  “I’m so sorry about not answering. I lost my phone last night.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been alone and miserable and sick and lonely!”

  “I know, Ari.” I go to my closet. “I just got home from community service.”

  “Ugh. I’d rather be sick than do that.”

  “It’s not that bad,” I admit, thinking of Gianna. “Oh, Ari, you are totally gonna love this.”

  “What?”

  “I got you a date!”

  “Benji or Dom?”

  “Omigod.” I roll my eyes at her. “Benji. This weekend.”

  “Mia!” she wails. “I’m sick! What if I look like shit still?”

  “You’ll be fine,” I say. “You never look bad.”

  “I do right now,” she retorts. “How did yesterday go? Good?”

  I hesitate. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Can you set me up with Dom next?”

  “You are twice as pretty as me. You can get your own men,” I tell her.

  She sneezes loudly. “I gotta go. I’ll text, but I can’t talk without sneezing.”

  “Lame.”

  “Sick.”

  “Okay. Text me.”

  “I will,” she says.

  I go through the rest of my texts. Two are from Molly, asking if I’m okay. I respond to her and Benji then pull up Dom’s contact info. Normally, I never know what to say. After what he said last night, I’m really clueless.

 

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