Where I Belong (The Debt Book 2)

by Molly O'Keefe

  “Do you love her?”

  “What does this have to do with anything?”

  “Do you love her?” Carissa asked again. “She nearly got you killed. She lied to you. Kept like… a million secrets from you. You look like you fucked her, so there’s that. But does it make up for—”

  “I love her,” I said. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

  Carissa pursed her lips and took a sip of her drink. I stood there waiting for her to say something baiting, to ask me some deeply personal and totally inexplicable question, but she only walked away.

  “Do whatever you want to him,” she said to Bates, and then she was gone.

  I sagged when she left the room.

  “I don’t apologize for Carissa,” he said. “I respect her too much. But she can be…ferocious on some topics.”

  I laughed, an exasperated, relieved huff. I had no clue what was going on.

  “This is what she’s talking about,” Bates said and turned. He picked up a remote control and pointed it at a screen I hadn’t paid much attention to, hanging on the far side of the wall.

  It blinked to life, and it was Beth there. Sitting at the picnic table on Peter’s deck. She wore her hair in a bun and no makeup. On her neck were the marks I’d left on her. Hickeys and scrapes. It felt like a million years since I’d seen her, but the proof that it was only hours ago nearly wrecked me.

  “Hey, everyone,” she said with a smile and a wave. “It’s me! No makeup. No costumes. I’m not even going to sing for you. I just… I want to tell you a story. And I think it’s a story I should have told you a long time ago. But first I want to tell all of you, all my fans, how grateful I am for your kindness and patience for the last few days. The last few months, really. What started as this small little thing, between us”—she wagged her finger between her and the camera, and I felt like she was talking to me—“really exploded, and I think, well, I forgot about us a little bit. And you guys have been cool and patient and kind and I’m really grateful.”

  “What is this?” I whispered, not taking my eyes off the screen. Not for a minute.

  “Beth uploaded this video to her YouTube channel about an hour ago.”

  “The story I need to tell you is a long one. And it’s not easy. So I’m going to need a little bit more of your patience. When I was a kid, my mom was a doctor…”

  I stood there riveted, watching as she told the whole story. Her mother’s career, its relative crash and burn, and then the way she’d treated Beth, which was illegal and unethical and cruel. And she told the whole story without crying. Without hate in her voice. Without any of the anger that I knew she felt.

  She was calm and she was careful and she was utterly persuasive.

  And I was proud of her more than I thought I was capable of.

  “My mother has been on the news a lot lately, saying she’s worried about me and that I need care and treatment. And she tells a good story about it, and it’s good because in part, it’s true. I do need care. And I could use some treatment, and I’m in the process of doing that right now. And I might need medication, lots of us do, for things we can’t control, chemistry in our brains and our bodies that make us different. Not bad, just different. But that will be between me and a doctor I trust. Because I don’t trust my mother. And I mean this emphatically and without qualifications, I do not need her. To everyone listening who believes that my mother would be the best thing for me right now, you are wrong. Empathetically and without qualifications, wrong.”

  “I think that part is for me,” Bates said, and I nodded, still watching, because it was like Beth had turned into a queen in the hours since I’d been gone. Like telling her story had given her strength I’d never seen before.

  “Also…” She pulled in a deep breath and let it out. “I was sexually assaulted when I was a teenager. And I’ve told myself that I was okay with what happened. That I wasn’t haunted. I wasn’t scared of sex. Or men. I had healthy consensual enjoyable sex, so how could I possibly still be hurt by what happened to me? But I think that story about being okay, was a lie. And I have grown used to lying. And I can’t do it anymore. I have made a lot of mistakes. More than I can count, and some of them…” She looked off camera, and I imagined Peter there watching her. Helping her. And I felt my heart pulling in my chest. “Some of them are unforgivable. And that’s… that’s a thing I have to live with. And to any of you who are in a position like I was in, where you’re being abused, mistreated, not listened to or ignored, I want to tell you this. The world is so large. It’s bigger than you can dream. And there are people in your life who want it to be small. Who want you to feel small and incapable and without value. You aren’t. You are gigantic and you contain multitudes and you can do anything. You might need help getting there, and I urge you to find it. You can tell the truth. And let go of the secrets. And you can be your amazing and real self. And I, for one, would love to see it.”

  Her smile was amazing with those two front teeth that leaned against each other.

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back. I don’t know if I’ll be making more music. My heart says yes, but right now I have some things I really need to take care of. Myself. The people I love. The people I hurt. I… I have some work to do. And before I go…” She took a deep breath. “I have one more thing I have to say. Tommy, I have no idea if you’ll ever see this, but… I love you. I love you more than I’ve loved anything in my life. I think because… before this moment, you were the only person I was ever honest with. And I know that sounds ridiculous considering how I’ve lied to you…” She looked away and carefully wiped her eyes. “You always said you didn’t deserve me, but the truth, the real truth, the truth I’ve known in my bones all along, is that I didn’t deserve you. I wish…” She stopped, wiped her eyes. She tried to keep the smile on her face but couldn’t. “I think you’re right. You were always right. Wishes are dangerous, and they’re not for people like me.” Her hand reached for the screen. “This is Jada—” She shook her head. “I mean Beth. This is Beth. See you later.”

  And the screen went dark.

  The screen went dark, but I didn’t look away.

  She couldn’t wish anymore. All this time and I’d finally succeeded in making her like me.

  Wishes are dangerous, and they’re not for people like me.

  The pain was gutting.

  “I asked for proof,” Bates said, “of her mother’s abuse. That’s good enough for me.”

  Bates sat back down, his golden head bent over the desk, and still I just kept standing there.

  “You can go,” he said, not looking up.

  “That’s… that’s it?”

  Bates was silent.

  “All these fucking years and that’s it? A YouTube video and I can go on with my life?”

  “You were free to go on with your life seven years ago. It’s not my fault you didn’t.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Why have you done any of this?”

  Bates got to his feet and walked around the desk, but I didn’t step back, even as the danger he radiated made every hair on my body stand up.

  “I told you that night,” Bates said. “You did something for me when you killed that man. So I took care of you.”

  “Are you doing this for Carissa?” I asked, unsure of what the relationship was between them.

  His face went icy and cold.

  “No,” he said.

  “Were you a foster kid at St. Jokes?”

  “I’m not in the business of answering questions. You did what I asked. The debt is paid. Now get out of here.”

  “But Beth?”

  “Beth is not my concern. You are no longer my concern. You are, however, Sammy’s concern, so I’d get the fuck out of here before he finds out you’re in the building. Because I do not hold Sammy’s leash.”

  “What about Carissa? Do you hold her leash?”

  The blow was a surprise. The punch right across my face. It sent me bac
k three steps, nearly crashing into the drink cart. I licked my lip and tasted blood.

  Fuck. That cut was never going to heal.

  “Leave. Now,” Bates said, straightening the sleeve of his jacket. “And get the fuck out of my city. If I see you or hear you, you won’t get a second chance. You’ll end up dead and buried where you would have been years ago.”

  His threat, I didn’t doubt it. Not for a minute. The cold that rolled off him was the absolute truth. Leave or die.

  So I left.

  14

  Tommy

  Being a mason in the city of San Francisco paid me good money, and the fact that I never spent it meant that I had a pretty fat bank account. I didn’t even bother going back to my apartment. I got myself a new phone and drove away from my life. My old life.

  I pretended as I drove down Highway 1 that I wasn’t going to her, even though deep in my gut, where my instinct and my internal compass lived, I knew I was going to her.

  Because I knew what she wanted to wish for. I knew what she was too scared to say out loud.

  She wished for me. For me.

  And I couldn’t be the reason she no longer had the will to wish for something better for herself. I couldn’t be the reason she got stuck in her guilt and her fear.

  And it wasn’t that I had nowhere else to go. I had a big wide world to disappear into. But none of it held any appeal.

  Because she was where I belonged.

  It took me two days, sleeping in a hotel halfway between San Francisco and Santa Barbara, my phone growing hot in my hand as I watched her video twenty times before falling asleep.

  Every time I watched it, I saw something different, some new way she’d changed. The look in her eye. The tilt of her chin. The squared-off shape of her shoulders. She was older than she’d been when I drove away from that mountain. By centuries it seemed sometimes.

  And she was only more beautiful for it.

  I kept thinking about how she’d turned her tragedy into a flashlight for kids who lived with the same kind of abuse she’d lived with. Who’d built walls out of secrets and lies in an effort to control what was uncontrollable. Other people. Our own pain.

  Our own hearts.

  She’d turned her cowardice into bravery, and it would take someone stronger than me not to crumble in the face of that. I was good and crumbled. Maybe I always had been.

  I found my way back up Peter’s mountain. Parked my truck in the spot where we’d parked the old one. I sat there, the engine running, watching the two dogs come trotting out around the side of the house.

  The back door opened, and Peter came out with his shotgun. When he saw it was me, he put the shotgun against the house and stood there waiting for me to get out of the truck.

  It took me a long time because I didn’t know what I was going to do. Or say.

  Mostly I wanted to say nothing. Do nothing.

  I looked up at the apartment above the garage, thinking that she’d come running out any minute, but she didn’t. And the longer I sat there, the weirder it got. Finally Peter walked over to my side of the truck, and I rolled down the window, still unwilling to commit to getting out.

  “She’s in town,” he said. “She found a counselor to talk to. Someone she likes. You…you want to wait for her inside?”

  The news about the counselor unlocked some of my muscles, and I turned off the car. But still I sat there. And Peter stood there. Crickets were going bonkers in the long grass outside.

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” I said.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I don’t…I can’t forgive you.”

  “I don’t expect you to.”

  I rubbed at my eyes, my face. My beard was itchy as hell.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  My stomach answered for me, growling in the cricket noise.

  “Come on in, so—” He stopped himself just in time, before the word son came fully out of his mouth. “I’ve got food; you’re hungry. I’ll give you space.”

  Space and food sounded like something I could handle from this guy, so I popped open my door and he stepped out of the way and he led me around the house to the back porch. To my total surprise, Pest was there, lying in the sun, and as I turned the corner, she looked up and saw me.

  She jumped to her feet and charged me, a wiggling bundle of dog. I scooped her up and accepted her kisses, even the ones on the mouth, with a happy heart.

  “I missed you, too, Pest,” I said. And I really had.

  “Go on and sit. I’ll bring something out for you.”

  I sat with Pest at the patio set, scratching her the way she liked, and Peter brought out another version of ploughman’s lunch. He laid out the tablecloth and the bread and tomatoes. He had sliced turkey this time, and when he put down the hard-boiled eggs, I felt my whole body stiffen.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Habit.” He grabbed the edge of the platter to take it away.

  “It’s all right,” I said. “You can leave it.” It was, after all, only food. Peter was true to his word, and he sat on the other side of the patio, reading his paper, while I ate two eggs and fed Pest all the turkey.

  “I saw the video she made,” I said. “Bates did too. The debt is paid.”

  “That’s good. You’re safe now?”

  I nodded, looking out at the sun behind a cloud. It looked like the yolk of the hard-boiled eggs I’d just eaten.

  “How is she?” I asked.

  “She’s…dimmer.” I looked over at him, alarmed, because I knew exactly what he meant. “Some of the light that makes Beth, Beth is gone. But I don’t think it’s gone forever. She’s… working hard at fixing some things for herself. She wants to deserve you.”

  I turned away, my heart in my guts.

  Peter was quiet for a long time until we heard the sound of a car coming up the hill and parking on the other side of the house.

  “That’d be her,” Peter said. “I’ll go on inside.”

  “Tommy!” I heard Beth yell, and I closed my eyes. She came running around the side of the house, her shoes hitting the wood of the patio. In my arms Pest started wiggling. “Peter, is Tommy—”

  She stopped, and I turned in my seat to face her.

  She’d cut her hair. I had no idea why that was the first thing I noticed, but I did. It was all cut off at her chin, the bright red roots an inch long at her scalp. I must have been staring because she touched it, her cheeks red.

  “I did it…I did it myself. I know it looks bad. My mom always kept my hair long. Made me wear those buns and ponytails, and I just kept the habit because it was easier to change my look when I had long hair. But after the video I couldn’t stand it anymore—”

  “You look beautiful,” I said. “You always look beautiful.”

  Her shoulders slumped forward. “What are you doing here, Tommy?”

  “Bates saw the video. The debt is paid, but…I had to leave the city.”

  “Oh,” she said, her voice a little cooler. “You just need a place to go.”

  I stood up from the deck and set Pest down. She went running over to the other two dogs and lay down between them. One of the pack. Odd, sure, but she’d found a place where she belonged.

  “I could go anywhere,” I said, stepping close enough that I could smell her. I could see all her freckles, the light golden flecks in her dark amber eyes. I could see all of her. Every flaw and every beautiful, radiant strength. And there were so many more strengths. “I want to be with you. You are where I belong.”

  Her lips trembled, and she was blinking back tears. “I’ve messed up. I’ve messed up over and over again, and all I’ve ever done is hurt you.”

  “I wish…” I said and her eyes closed. “No, look at me, Beth. Look at me.” I forced her to open her eyes. I put my hands on her shoulders, and I waited until she looked at me. “I wish you didn’t believe that,” I said.

  “You don’t wish. You told me that. You said it was dangerous, and I didn’t bel
ieve you. But you’re right. It hurts.” Tears ran over her eyes. “It hurts to wish.”

  “No,” I said. “Listen to me. Listen. You need to wish. Your soul requires it, and it was me that took that away from you. And it’s wrong. It’s so wrong. You know what happens when you don’t wish? You turn out like me. Stuck. Waiting. Accepting all the shit because you never learned how to want more. I want more, Beth. I want so much more. I deserve so much more. You taught me that.”

  “But I lied—”

  “You did. And I kidnapped you. And I almost left you in that house, drugged up and surrounded by assholes because I was too much a coward.”

  “No, you saved me.”

  “And you saved me. Don’t you get it? You’ve saved me over and over again. Every touch, every kiss—”

  “Shhhh, shhh.” She grabbed my face, her fingers squishing my lips together like she could seal my words inside.

  “Beth,” I said, the word all jumbled by her hand. She laughed. I smiled, my lips curling against her fingers.

  I gathered her fingers in mine, kissing the tips. Kissing the palms and then closing her hands into fists like I could get her to hold on to the kiss. Hold on to me.

  “We both screwed up. We were both scared. We lied and we kept secrets and we’re just…we’re going to stop.”

  “We’re going to stop,” she said, taking my words and making them a vow.

  “And you’re going to wish again,” I told her. “And I’m going to learn how to do it.”

  “What do you wish for?” she asked.

  “You. What do you wish for?”

  “You.”

  I couldn’t stop myself. I held her hands to my chest, and I kissed her. Beth and Tommy. Us. It felt like a first kiss, a beginning kiss. It felt like sunshine and a warm breeze and a home.

  It felt like everything I ever wanted and was too scared to ask for in this world.

  And it was mine now. Mine to have.

  “I love you,” I said against her lips, breathing the words into her mouth so she would believe them in her body. “And I belong with you. And you belong with me. Everything else is just something we need to figure out.”