Unworthy

by Cassia Brightmore

  Maisie was silent as she looked down at her folded hands in her lap. There was nothing to say, no way to defend herself in the situation at all, or make her understand why she felt the way she did.

  "I'm sorry. I'm not meaning to snap or question you, Lord knows you don't need that right now with what you're going through. I just am so fucking furious. You have to tell Mom and Dad. Jesus, Dad is going to fucking murder him," Blake said.

  "No. I don't want them to know. This will break their hearts, Blake, you know that. Please, just keep this between us for now. I promise I can handle it." she begged.

  "And what happens the next time this happens and he fucking kills you! My God, there isn't an inch of you that isn't covered in bruises right now. I don't even know how you're sitting there so calmly. And your hair...that fucking fuck. I want to kill him," Blake seethed.

  More tears fell at Blake's words. "I just need time to figure out what I'm going to do. If I leave, that will only make him angrier. I need some time to come up with a plan. Please, just help me. After I know what I'm going to do, then we can talk to Mom and Dad. Now can you please help me up to the bathroom? I really need to pee."

  A startled laugh pulled from Blake and the two hobbled their way to the bathroom. After she'd taken care of her business, she braced herself for the one thing she hadn't been able to bring herself to do. Leaning on Blake for support, she finally looked at her reflection in the mirror, needing to see how bad the damage was.

  Gone were her long, light brown locks. Instead, her hair now fell to just below her ears, in a haphazard way. Choppy and tattered, it was a though someone had taken a hacksaw to it, which in a way, is exactly what had happened.

  "Well, you're lucky I spent that six months as a hair dresser. I know how we can fix this and it will look like you never lost a piece of hair at all," Blake told her.

  Maisie looked at her in surprise. "You can? How?"

  "It's this genius invention they have nowadays called...hair extensions. I've got some at home, I'll go pick up what we need along with some lunch and we'll get started. But don't for a second think that I'm okay with hiding this from Mom and Dad. I'm not. I'm one hundred percent not okay with not reporting that asshole to the cops right now. I'll keep your secret for now, but my silence has a time limit, Maisie. I love you so damn much, and its pretty much killing me to see you like this right now. You don't deserve this, not one bit. I wish you could see that." Blake said sadly.

  Maisie looked her sister in the eyes and broke a little more at the sadness she saw there, the pity. Dealing with her own sorrow was hard enough, but knowing she'd caused similar feelings in her sister was almost too much to bear.

  "I know. I love you too. Let's do this thing with my hair and then we'll talk about what to do next." Maisie promised.

  "Okay. Also, you should remember that I worked at that gun range for a few weeks. I didn't have much time to practice, but I did get my license to carry, and while I may not be the best shot around, I'm pretty sure that I could blow that fucker's dick off if he dares to put his hands on you again. So you might want to put him on notice that he's in my sights." With those words left hanging between them, she kissed Maisie gently and left.

  Her sister had obviously missed her calling, as she did a beautiful job on Maisie's extensions. If she hadn't known that her own hair had been chopped off, she'd never have noticed a difference at all. It gave her a small sense of relief to at least have that small piece of herself back. Things got back to normal around the house, or as normal as they could had been anyways, with Brant and her falling back into their regular routine. He did seem to be somewhat contrite over what he'd done. He'd gone as far as saying that he was pleased she'd found a way to fix her "rat's nest" of hair, although if his money had paid for it, he wouldn't be pleased. She assured him she'd used her tips at work to cover it, and never mentioned her sister's name.

  After taking a week off work, and a few more days at home to recuperate, she was finally ready to show her face in the world again. The bruises and marks had faded enough to be covered by make-up again, leaving her free to do the one thing she really needed. Spend some time with her mother.

  After the emotional breakdown she'd had with Blake, all she could think about was spending some quality time with her mom and basking in the unconditional love she always offered without question. Pulling into her parents' driveway, she grabbed the lattes she'd picked up on her way over and headed inside. Her mom was in the kitchen, Skipper sitting faithfully at her side as she pulled a tray of freshly baked cookies from the oven.

  "Hi, sweetheart, made your favorite. Oatmeal raisin."

  "Thanks, Mom. I grabbed us a couple lattes too," Maisie told her, bending to give Skipper a few pats in greeting, before embracing her mother. She noticed that she looked a little weary and that her usual spark didn't seem to be there.

  "You feeling okay, Mom?" she asked, concern evident in her tone. Her mom smiled as she moved the cookies onto a cooling plate.

  "I'm fine, dear. Just a bit tired, might be coming down with a bug, that's all," she reassured her. Maisie wasn't quite sure she bought that answer, but let the matter drop.

  Moving to the living room with their coffee and cookies, Maisie sat on the couch across from her mom who was in her favorite arm chair. Her childhood home looked exactly the same as it had growing up, with just a few updated touches to make it a bit more modern.

  "Have you heard anything back from the art gallery yet about the painting you submitted?" her mom asked. Maisie had filled her in on Blake talking her into entering her painting, and they'd gone together when her day to drop it off had come up.

  "Not yet, they said it might be a couple weeks before they reached out." Maisie bit into the warm cookie and sighed at its deliciousness. "I really need this recipe, Mom. These are amazing."

  "How's Brant? It's been awhile since we've seen him," her mom asked, effectively avoiding answering about the recipe. She always did like to keep those things close to her heart, only sharing her cooking secrets when she was ready.

  "He's okay." Her heart started pounding at the mention of his name. Did Blake break her word and tell her mom what was going on? No, she didn't think so. Her mom wouldn't have been able to keep quiet about something like that. "I'm really scared about the showcase. Do you think I did the right thing by entering? What if they reject it and say that I shouldn't even bother with painting?" She shocked herself by admitted so openly what her fears where, when usually she kept everything locked away inside.

  "Oh, Maisie. Your work is beautiful; you have a haunting way of bringing such a peaceful creativity to everything you do. Don't doubt your talent, sweetheart. Not everyone can be as brave as you to express their creative side the way you do," her mom got up from her chair and moved to sit beside her on the couch.

  "It's just so hard. I'm a coward," she said quietly, tears filling her eyes.

  "No, you're not. Do you have any idea how brave you really are? To have been through what you went through as a child, and to come out the other side, that doesn't make you a coward. That makes you a survivor. Deep down, you have a fierceness inside you, a will to live. Your capacity to love outshines anything that may make you a little scared to put yourself out there. It's your soul, Maisie. You have a kind soul, one that deserves all the best things life has to offer, regardless of how your life started out." Her mom smoothed her hair back from her forehead and gave her a gentle kiss.

  "You saved me, Mom. You were my guardian angel sent down to protect me. You and Dad. I remember that day, when I first saw you. I just knew that somehow that everything was going to be okay. As much as I loved my mother, I think I knew I was always supposed to end up as your daughter. If it wasn't for you, I don't know where I'd be now." Their tears mixed together as Caroline held her close, offering her unwavering support as she always had.

  "I can't wait for the day that I can see your work in an art gallery. It will happen for you one day, Maisie. If it isn't th
is time, don't be discouraged. People wouldn't have gotten anywhere if we call gave up on the first try. Just promise me that you will keep pushing forward, don't let your fears and doubts stop you from going after what you really want. If things seem too hard, just remember you have our love and support, always, no matter what."

  "I won't, give up, Mom. I promise."

  The talk with her mother had done something she wasn't sure was possible; it had given her hope for the future. On the drive home, she decided to stop at the park, to give herself some time alone to reflect on everything before dealing with Brant.

  Pulling into a vacant parking spot, she grabbed her camera bag and started across the green grass. The colors always seemed so much more vibrant after a fresh rain and Maisie hoped to capture a few good shots while the day still held light.

  Close to the jungle gym, there was a single little boy playing while the woman she assumed was his mother stood a few feet away, typing furiously on her cell phone. Paying attention to her son didn't seem to be a priority as he was currently trying to climb the steps to the very high monkey bars. Since he didn't look more than three years old, Maisie quickened her steps to reach him before disaster happened.

  The second he stepped away from the stairs, stretching as far as he could to reach the first bar, Maisie grabbed him around the waist and lifted him down, placing his feet safely on the waiting sand. The mother finally clued in that something terrible could have just happened and rushed over.

  "Hunter! What is wrong with you? I've told you over and over that you can't be pulling this kind of shit all the time. I can't take my eyes off you for one damn minute without you doing something to be a pain in my ass," she yelled as she scooped the child up in her arms. "I'm sorry. He's just a little shit," she said to Maisie, causing her temper to flare.

  "No he's not. Maybe if you'd paid more attention to him than your phone, and actually talked to him about the dangers that are out there, you'd be surprised at how well he listens. Something for you to think about." Maisie turned her back and walked away, heart pounding. Where had that come from? She never snapped at anyone that way, yet something about the way that mother was speaking to the little boy had caused a fire to light inside her. It wasn't okay to be so unkind, all that was going to do was teach that little boy that he was no good at anything, that he was unworthy of love. Reaching the trees, she stopped and looked around. The train of thought she was on caused her to realize one thing. She was the little boy, and her whole life was his mother. She was exactly like him, wanting to be fearless, but too afraid of what the repercussions would be if she truly let go and embraced what was inside her. If she didn't stop and take control of how her life was going, she would never be able to step out onto the monkey bars. She'd be forever standing on the steps, stretching, but never meeting her goals. A passenger in her own life; too lost in shame to step out into the light and embrace all that was waiting for her.

  Having an epiphany like that, it made her outlook on things change. Maybe she could be strong enough to leave Brant. To fight for something more, a better life. Digging deep and finding courage didn't seem like such an enormous feat anymore, yet one that was within her grasp. It was as though when Brant chopped off all her hair, he inadvertently lifted a weight from her, one that was dragging her down and forcing her to believe she was worthless.

  She snapped a few shots of butterflies hovering over a bed of flowers and then decided to head for home. And for once, it wasn't because she was in a hurry to cook for Brant, no it was due to a deep need inside her to create. She wanted to lose herself for a few hours in her studio where she truly felt free.

  "So you are alive." Maisie didn't have to turn around to know who was behind her, she could now recognize his voice.

  "Hi," she said, tilting her head back to look up at him. He was dressed in a black leather jacket and dark jeans, his keys dangling from his hands. "No Chance?" she asked, looking around for his dog.

  "Not today, I was out taking a drive and just thought I'd take a quick stroll before calling it a day. Haven't seen you at the coffee shop in a while," he replied. His gaze was intense, rolling over every inch of her, as if he was searching for something.

  "Oh, right. I had a few days off," she lied, looking away so that he didn't see she was being less than truthful. He nodded, his mouth forming into a grim smile that somehow told her he didn't believe her for a second.

  "What are you taking photos of?" he asked, changing the subject.

  "Just a bit of nature." She glanced at him again, and deciding to be brave, blurted out, "I paint."

  "You paint?" he repeated, confused. She shook her head at how stupid she was and then continued her explanation.

  "Yes. Oil painting. I take photos and then once I develop them, I bring them to life on my canvasses."

  He raised his eyebrows. "I've never heard of that, that's actually pretty cool." Happy that he thought so, she beamed at him.

  "Thanks. I've actually got a chance to be featured in a local artist showcase at the Foster/White Gallery if all goes well," she told him. She was surprised at how easy she shared the details with him, when she still hadn't brought herself to tell Brant yet.

  "What? That's amazing, congratulations! You'll have to let me know the details and I'll come to your show."

  "Oh, its not a forsure yet that I'm in, it was just a call for submissions," she explained, crinkling her brows together when he waved his hand at her.

  "You'll be in, I'm sure of it." His confidence in her filled her with warmth. Besides her family, no one had ever accepted her as easily as he had or given her such support without asking for anything in return. Maybe things were changing for the better for her. After they said their goodbyes, Maisie drove home slowly, thinking over everything that her sister and mom had said, the scene in the park and her conversation with Ridge. Determination filled her and she decided that it was time to come clean with Brant about her painting. If he couldn't be supportive, then she was leaving him, she had to or she'd never survive.

  Hope and fear warred in her heart. Hope for acceptance. Fear of rejection and the brutal consequences that accompanied it. Escape from the life she was living was the only logical choice. All she needed now was courage.

  2001

  "Maisie! Could you come down here please!" Her mother called up the stairs. Maisie dropped her sketchbook with a sigh and got up from her desk. She hoped this wasn't another attempt of her mom's for her to try and get a real date. The last time she had set her up with one of her friends' son who had a face full of acne and picked his nose all throughout the movie they watched. When he'd tried to hold her hand afterwards, she all but ran all the way home. What a nightmare.

  When she walked into the kitchen, her mom and dad were both sitting at the table, paperwork spread out between them, their expressions blank. Panic filled her. Were they sending her back? It was a ridiculous thought as she was now eighteen; but maybe now that she was old enough to take care of herself, they'd decided they didn't want her anymore. Dread like she'd never known followed her as she took a seat beside her dad and look at her parents.

  Gulping audibly, she voiced her concerns. "Um, did I do something wrong?" her voice caught at the end and tears welled up before she could stop them. Please don't kick me out.

  "No, of course not, sweetheart," her mom rushed to reassure her. "We just have received some information that we need to share with you. Regarding your birth mother. Now that you're eighteen, the court is legally obligated to share this documents with you."

  Her birth mother. Maisie didn't have many memories of Allison, but she did have some and most of them were unpleasant. The torment she'd suffered while in her care had left ever-lasting damage on her. Damage she preferred not to think about. It was easier to shove her feelings below the surface than deal with them head on like her parents were making her do right then.

  Her dad handed her a file. "This is all the background they collected on Allison. A little on her fami
ly, and a bit of an update on where she is now in life. They've told us that she'd like to have contact with you," her dad told her.

  Her head snapped up at that revelation. Contact? With the woman that nearly destroyed her? Her head swam and her vision blurred as she was catapulted back to that little girl standing in the doorway, while a naked man thrust on top of her mother. Suddenly, that man was beside her and his hands were on her. Cruel hands inflicting pain no child should ever have to endure. The room got smaller and she fought to suck in air, taking big, gulping breaths.

  Caroline was out of her chair in a flash, embracing and soothing her. "Maisie. Maisie, look at me, only at me. Come back to the present now. Come back," she demanded.

  Blinking wildly, she cleared the flashback away and then looked at the pain written all over her father's face. Please God, say he doesn't know what really happened. Please don't let them know the horrors she suffered.

  "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one will judge or condemn any decision you make. It's completely natural to be curious, or to say to hell with all of this and never think of her again. You have to do what's best for you, what will help you heal and move forward. Just know that whatever choice you make, your father and I are behind you. We'll support you no matter what," her mom said softly.

  Maisie read a few lines of the first document outlining Allison's physical appearance. It then went on to give some background on her life—the trouble with drugs addiction and arrests, suspected prostitution. She skimmed over all of that until she came to the details on when she was born and subsequently taken away and placed with her new family. That had been her new beginning, and apparently, a new one for Allison as well as she went on to have six more children after Maisie, four girls and two boys. It gave no further details on them, just that none of them were in her care either. Shocked, she sat back and stared into space. She had siblings out there somewhere, did any of them know about her? How long had they been with Allison? God, she hoped like hell they got away before anything truly terrible happened to them.