by Jane Charles
“I think you should take it back.”
Is he for real?
I stare into his hard, cobalt eyes. Alex is dead serious, and I thought he understood. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. It happens all of the time.”
“No.” He doesn’t get it. Not at all. “What can I do for her? Let her sleep with me, up here.”
“It’s a home.”
“Not her home and not the one she’s known all of her life.”
“Six years, Kelsey. She has many more to go.”
“We don’t know that,” I remind him softly.
“All the more reason to be a part of her life now.”
“She’s a scared little girl. Didn’t you see it in her eyes?” Brandy probably doesn’t even understand her illness. She’s too young, but she knows she’s sick and has to be in the hospital. “So, I screw with her more and take her from the only parents she’s ever known?” How can he even suggest such a thing?
“I thought you wanted her?” His voice rises, almost accusing. Almost the same tone he used with me at Baxter.
My heart drops at the realization that maybe he hasn’t changed all that much. Is he going to resent me all over again for not fighting to get my daughter? I can’t do that, and he’s got to understand that I won’t. “I do want her. More than anything, but taking her back wouldn’t be right, and I’m still not in a position to raise a little girl and give her everything she needs. She is better off with Mr. and Mrs. Cross.”
“The same woman who treats you like shit! You’ll never get a chance with Brandy when she gets older. That woman will poison her against you.”
“You sure as hell didn’t help by giving her my letters. They’ve probably already been torched and now Brandy will never know.”
Alex blows out a sigh. “I had to do something, Kels, to make her understand.”
“It wasn’t your place, Alex.” I can’t believe how things have turned so quickly. Just a few days ago I was falling in love with him, but he has betrayed me in a way I never imagined and taken away the most important of my possessions.
“You weren’t going to stand up for yourself. Somebody had to.”
Stand up for myself? “You don’t get it at all.”
“No. I don’t. She is your little girl.”
“I also gave her away.”
I’ve fucked this up. I get it, but Mrs. Cross needed to know, and I had to give her a piece of my mind. Calling her a bitch didn’t come near to satisfying my anger.
“I know, but you’ll never get her back if you don’t take a stand.”
“This isn’t a battle,” she cries. “She doesn’t belong to me and all I can hope is that when she’s eighteen she wants a relationship.”
“And she will, if she reads the letters.” I didn’t explain it right when I came in. I should have been calmer, but the fight escalated and I said things before thinking. I need to calm down so Kelsey understands. “It’s the only chance she has of understanding because Mrs. Cross sure as hell isn’t going to say anything good about you.”
“And, I point out again, you gave my letters to that very woman. They won’t survive until Brandy is 18. They were for me to give her. Not you, not Mrs. Cross. Not anybody else, but me!”
She’s right, of course. Why the hell didn’t I think that through? I thought Mrs. Cross would take them and eventually read them, then she’d understand. But, what if she did destroy them? It wouldn’t matter if Mrs. Cross read them or not before tossing them in a fire. The important fact was that Brandy would never read them. “I’ll get them back.”
Kelsey snorts. “I think it’s a little too late for that now.”
“I’ve got to try.” If it’s the last thing I do, I’m getting them back. I should have never taken them in the first place, but I wasn’t thinking.
Shit! I’ve screwed this up royally. Instead of thinking with my head and trying to figure out what was best for Kelsey, I acted on my heart, and anger--passion calling the shots--and I ruined everything.
“You’ve done enough, Alex.”
Her voice is frigid, and I’ve never seen her eyes so hard and cold. Not even in high school. “I’ll make this right, Kelsey.”
She shakes her head. “You can’t, Alex.” She’s no longer yelling at me, but her voice is sad, resigned. “Even if you do get them back, you broke my trust. You took something from me, and I’m not sure I can ever forgive you for that.”
My heart crashes into my stomach. “Kels, I was only trying to help. Do what I thought was right.”
“You should have asked me first.” She points to the door. “I need you to leave.”
Instead I step toward her. “No. We need to talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to say, Alex.”
“Please, Kelsey?” I’m not above begging. I know when I’ve fucked up.
“Get out!”
I stare into her dark brown eyes. They are unwavering. I’m going to be sick. Trust! I did break her trust and didn’t even consider the ramifications at the time. Just acted. That’s the shit that landed me in hot water before when I was young and stupid. Acting without thinking. This is the stupidest thing I’ve done since I was fourteen years old. Except, Baxter isn’t waiting to fix my fuck ups this time, and I may have just lost the best thing in my life.
I thought I had something here. A good thing. The guys, the house, Alex, but it’s all gone up in a puff of smoke.
The betrayal cuts deep, and I’m raw. If he had taken a knife and filleted me, it wouldn’t have hurt as bad.
The regret was in his eyes, deep, as well as pain, but I couldn’t let it move me as I shut the door in his face and locked it.
I get that Alex thought he was trying to help me, but all it did was make matters worse. And, he didn’t ask. He just took something that was mine. Something he knew was so important to me, and handed it over to my daughter’s mother.
My stomach twists and churns, bile rises to my throat. All those letters. My heart poured out onto the pages. My private thoughts, dreams and wishes for Brandy can never be replaced. Even if I started writing now I could never duplicate the one I wrote the day they took her from me, or the one I wrote on her first birthday, wondering if she was walking yet. Holidays and birthdays and letters just because she was on my mind. Letters written for six years. Gone, never to be replaced.
Worse, they may be ash now.
I cover my mouth and run to the bathroom, but I don’t puke, even though my body feels like it could at any moment.
Sliding down to the tiled floor, I lean my face against the cold bathtub.
This is what I get. Every time I let myself get sucked into something good, it always goes to crap. When will I ever learn?
I wish I would have never gone in to get a tattoo. I wish I would have never let Alex bring me here. I wish I would have never reacquainted myself with the guys. I wish I hadn’t moved in here. If I wouldn’t have done any of those things, I’d still be at my apartment, with two bitches and Mary.
Except, I wouldn’t have met Brandy. I wouldn’t have had that small opportunity in the elevator to look at her and talk with her or to know she has Brandon’s eyes.
The mistake wasn’t in getting the tattoo. It was becoming comfortable and starting to rely on others. A mistake I won’t make again. As soon as I can find a place, I’m out of here. I’ll miss the guys, but this is their home, and Alex lives here. Even if we don’t share a room, I don’t think I can look at him again. At least not right now, and the only way I’m going to get back on my feet, and take care of myself as I’ve always done, is to find a place of my own.
Pulling myself from the floor, I wander back into my room and grab my laptop. Time to find the cheapest place I can. There’s got to be something out there. I don’t need much. Just a place to put my bed and call home until June.
Grabbing my keys I head out the door. I don’t want to talk to any of the guys right now. They’ll want to know what’s going on,
then I’ll tell them, and they’ll get pissed too.
I can’t blame them. What I did was stupid. We have a code, we don’t violate each other’s space, confidences or belongings, and that’s what I did to Kelsey. I violated her trust, took her possessions and handed them over to a bitch.
It’s bad enough I can still see her eyes, full of betrayal and hurt, in my mind. I don’t need the guys looking at me the same way.
And, Kelsey sure isn’t going to talk to me now. Hell, she might never talk to me again.
I should have stopped and thought about what I was doing. Instead, I let anger push me into doing something so stupid that I’ll be paying for it the rest of my life. If I knew where Mrs. Cross lived, I’d go to her house and get the letters back, praying that she hasn’t destroyed them.
But, what if she has? I’ll never be able to make it right. Ever!
I royally fucked this up and there is not a damn thing I can do to fix it.
All I do is walk and think, and mentally kick myself in the ass for being such a fucking jerk, and before I know it, I’m standing outside of Skin Scribes. It’s dark inside. Nobody has been in here since the day Peggy died.
I let myself in and lock the solid door behind me. The metal window guards are lowered and locked so nobody can see in when I turn on the lights. It’s eerie being in here when nobody else is. Even stranger is that Peggy and Martha will never return.
I slowly turn and take it all in. This is mine.
It is really and truly mine, and we reopen on January 9th.
I don’t even know where to begin or what to do. Which artists are coming back? Do I need to hire someone to answer the phones? Someone to sit at the front desk? What do I pay them?
Shit! I’m so over my head.
Peggy kept the appointment books at the front desk and there is a small cash register and a credit card machine, but nothing that tells me how all of this works, so I make my way to the office in the back. It’s right off the kitchen, which I need to go through first.
Martha’s kitchen is as bright and cheery as she left it. Except I doubt we’ll ever have cookies in here again. At least not freshly baked cookies, but the customers did like the treats. Maybe I can think of something else to offer up. Though, I’d better make money first.
I flip on the light in the little office. This is where Peggy ruled, like Martha did in the kitchen. It doesn’t feel right walking around the desk and sitting in her chair, but I’ve got to. It’s the only way I’ll learn.
If only they were still here. Martha and Peggy would first find many expressive ways of calling me a dumbass, but then they’d tell me how to fix it. Each had 80 years’ experience being a family and always knew the right answer when it came to girl problems.
A large manila envelope is in the center of the desk, addressed to me. I open it and pull out the documents. On top is a letter from Martha, with all of the instructions on changing the name, how to run the place, where to find everything, and documents for me to sign. I just need to do that and get it back to her attorney and then I can sign checks. She’s left half of the money in the accounts so I can change the sign, pay the artists and order supplies, and I’m to pay her back once we start turning a profit.
The computer is at the side of the desk, and she’s given me a list of passwords for the programs.
My head is spinning.
I can go home and grovel to Kelsey, which will likely get me nowhere, or go home and confess to the guys what I did so they can be disappointed in me too, or sit here and learn.
I push the button to start the computer. If anything, maybe all of this will help keep my mind off of what a total fuck up I am. Not only in doing what I did, but maybe losing Kelsey for good.
My stomach knots. I can’t think like that. I can’t lose her. I’ll do anything in my power to make up to her what I did, but she wouldn’t even listen now. I need to give her time, and then, just maybe she will let me back.
She’s got to. I need her. I love her.
I haven’t moved from the bed since I crawled into it last night. I didn’t find a new apartment either. The places I’d feel safe are so far out of my price range it isn’t even funny. The ones I can afford are in areas where I’d be too afraid to close my eyes at night.
Funny how a few years can change you. Six and a half years ago, Brandon and I didn’t live in the safest place, but I never felt like I was in danger. Even when I walked back to the room we rented in the early morning hours after I got off work. Alone, in the dark, with drunks, druggies, criminals, gang members and prostitutes everywhere. Nobody bothered me. Sometime between losing Brandon and now, I’ve become more cautious. Afraid of what was out there and the horrible things that could happen to a woman on her own.
I do have a back door that leads to the balcony and I can use those stairs to come and go. It would be no different than walking up the stairs inside the house. I could live up here and never see Alex or the guys.
But, it isn’t right. This is Alex’s home, not mine. They are doing me a favor by letting me live here and if Alex and I are over, my being here will make it uncomfortable for everybody. They are all friends, I’ve only been back in their life for a month.
It’s me who has to go.
Pulling myself from the bed, I jot down a few addresses that are available for rent within my budget. I could at least go to the areas and check them out. Maybe they aren’t as bad as I think they are. I have been rather insulated in my own little world that centered around the campus and then here. I could be all wrong about these locations.
With those thoughts in mind, I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. If I don’t get moving now, I might never leave. And the one thing I must do is leave.
“Do you have a robe to put on, or do I need to turn around?” Christian calls from what would be my living room as soon as I turn the water off.
I quickly wrap my hair in a towel, dry off and then pull on my thick, floor-length robe before coming out of the bathroom. “What’s going on?”
“I knocked but you didn’t answer. I got worried.”
“I was in the shower.”
His face colors. “I know that now, but I still don’t know if I should be worried.”
Did Alex tell them what he did? It wouldn’t surprise me. Now Christian is here to comfort me. There were a few knocks at my door last night, but I didn’t answer them. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to Alex. I’m still not in the mood, and I hope Christian didn’t come here to plead for him.
“I’m fine.” I march back into the bathroom and grab my comb and start working it through my hair.
“What’s going on? You didn’t come down to supper last night.”
“Tired and decided to turn in early.”
When I glance up, Christian is leaning against the doorjamb to my bathroom. “I thought maybe you and Alex had a fight.”
I frown. “Why?” I assumed he told the guys everything. I didn’t think any of them had secrets.
“Because he stormed out of here about nine last night and never came back.”
My heart skips. “Never came back?”
“Nope.” Christian looks into the mirror, his brown eyes focused on mine. “So?”
“So, nothing.” I put the comb back on the counter and brush past him, then go into the closet and shut the door so I can get dressed in privacy. When I come out, Christian is on my bed and my laptop is open. He glances up and it’s almost as if he’s hurt. “You’re moving?”
“It’s for the best.” I really don’t want to explain.
“You can talk to me, Kels.”
In that moment, I want to tell him everything. We were close when we were both at Baxter, and I’ve felt that same closeness since I walked in this house on Thanksgiving. But, he is Alex’s friend, and the last thing I want is anyone taking sides.
“It’s not going to work for Alex and me.”
His eyebrows raise. “Really?” He shakes his head as if disbelieving. �
�Since Thanksgiving the two of you have been tight. Yesterday you were tight, and I thought it was only a matter of weeks before he moved up here, leaving an empty room and entire floor for Dylan to keep clean.”
“We aren’t tight any longer, and I doubt we ever were.” I grab my laptop and shut it down before shoving it in a bag. “It’s best if I leave.”
“This is yours.” Christian holds out his arms. “You can live here too.”
“No. It’s Alex’s home. Not mine.”
Dammit, tears sting my eyes. I need to be strong. I am better off on my own. Haven’t I already learned that?
“It’s yours too.” Christian gets up and comes to me. “We knew you and Alex were together, but weren’t there yet, which is why we made a place for you. We also knew it might not work out, and we still made a place for you.”
I turn away from Christian and swipe a tear away.
“It is yours as long as you like it.”
“I can’t…Alex…”
“You can live here and never see any of us. Remember? We told you that from the beginning.”
“It’s not right,” I argue.
“It’s right enough. Besides, you’re moving to Baxter in June. That’s just six months. Nobody is going to let you sign a six-month lease.”
An apartment that caters to the students at the university would, but they are all full.
“Besides, where are you going to find a place on your budget?”
They know me too well. I shove the list of addresses at him.
His brown eyes go round. “There is no way in hell any of us are going to let you live even within walking distance of these places, let alone in the middle of these neighborhoods.”
“They can’t be that bad,” I argue weakly. I’d hoped I was wrong, but Christian might be right.
“Is what he did so bad?” he asks softly after a few moments.
“How do you know it wasn’t me?”
“You stayed. He left, as if he’d been kicked out.”
“Which I shouldn’t have done. This is his house.”
“My guess is you kicked him out of your apartment. He left the house.” Christian studies me. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”