36. Chapter Thirty Six
Iroll over, leaving a panting and exhausted Riley on the floor, and force myself to stand. I make my way to the bathroom, in desperate need of a moment alone to gather my thoughts after everything that”s happened in the last hour.
I head into the bathroom, shut the door behind me, close the lid to the toilet, and sit down. I rest my head in my hands while I take a few calming breaths and try to evaluate what the fuck I should do next.
Finally feeling a little more level headed, I exit the bathroom expecting to find Riley still lying where I left her on the floor. But when I open the door, she”s nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she”s moved to the bed. The floor is uncomfortable as fuck, I try to tell myself, despite the uneasiness washing over my body. I turn towards the bed praying to see her, but the bed is empty. What the fuck? I glance over to the chair, the one that had her clothes on it just moments ago, but those clothes are no longer there. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She left! She ran away! I scared her away! I fucked shit up and lost the only truly good thing in my life.
I rush towards the door, hoping to chase her down. After all, she”s got no way to truly leave since we came on my bike. But what if she ran down to that dickhead at reception and begged him to protect her. Maybe he’d take her home. Or hide her in some staff room that I can’t gain access to. The possibilities fly through my head at lightning speed, so fast in fact, that I almost don”t see Riley. She is sitting, fully dressed, on the floor with her back against the door. But why? Is she blocking my exit perhaps?
I attempt to lift her up, but she kicks out. “No, you”re not leaving me!” she screams as she continues to flail around in my arms.
I scoop her up like a child and hold her tightly against me. “I”m not going anywhere, baby,” I say, with a promise, as I carefully carry her back into the main room and hold her tightly in my arms as I sit us both down on the bed.
“What was that?” she asks, voice barely louder than a whisper.
When I don”t answer her, she clarifies, “The dream, the self doubt, the fear. What was all of that about?”
“My demons,” I sigh, unsure what else to say and hoping that it will be enough for her. I really don’t want her to know that part of me. The part that will surely make her disgusted to be around me and will make her leave me, just like everyone else leaves me. I am gross; I am disgusting, but right now, at this moment, she doesn’t see that part of me, and I want to keep it that way.
She reaches up and grips my face, pulling me so that I have no choice but to stare directly into her eyes. “You can tell me…anything,” she says softly, yet somehow with more intensity than ever before.
I feel a shift between us. I feel more connected to her in ways that I have never felt with anyone else. I want her to see me. I want her to know all about me.
Can I? Can I really tell her? Tell her all the fucked up shit that lives rent free in my mind? Can I trust her with my deepest, darkest secrets? Secrets I”ve never told another living soul?
As if she can hear my unspoken words, she answers. “You can trust me Gabe. I won”t tell anyone, I promise.”
I stay silent for a moment, still staring into her eyes, locked in some sort of battle of wills as neither of us wants to be the first person to break it.
“I can’t. I wouldn”t even know where to start,” I admit, averting my eyes from her.
I see the sadness in her eyes as she looks away, clearly thinking I”m saying I don”t want to tell her, rather that I truly have no idea where the fuck to start as my whole life has been such a disaster and that I no longer know what”s normal and what isn”t.
“But you can ask me anything, and I”ll try to be as honest as possible,” I add. Am I making a huge mistake? What if she somehow uses this against me? What if I bare my soul to her and she then rejects me? I look at her once more, seeing the kindness and sincerity behind those eyes, and decide that for her, I”m willing to risk complete and utter damnation.
“Okay,” she says softly. As she climbs off my lap.
“I”m gonna need a beer first,” I say as I walk over to the mini bar and pull out a can. I know I said I”d do my best not to drink when I”m around her. But there”s no way in hell I”m gonna survive this sober.
“I’m ready,” I say through anxious, gritted teeth as she joins me outside on the balcony.
“Who are the Jacksons?” she asks as she reaches out and places her hand on my lap.
“They were mine and Nate”s foster parents after we got taken away,” I say as I light a cigarette and take a long drag.
“Why did you get taken away?”
“Because my father was a sadistic mother fucker, who used to beat us, starve us, and abuse us in every vile way imaginable.” I add as I try my hardest to stay calm and keep the emotion out of my voice. The only way I”m gonna get through this is to be as factual, honest, and to the point as possible.
“Every way imaginable? Does that mean…” she asks hesitantly, and I know exactly where her mind is trying hard not to go.
“Not Nate, no, never Nate,” I reply, praying that she’s able to read between the lines. I take a large gulp of my drink, praying for the usual calm it brings me as I try to distance myself from the situation. Not wanting to go down that particular memory lane.
“Oh,” she says as she looks at me with a sympathetic look. One that hurts far more than any memory ever could.
“Next question. Please,” I whisper, unable to take the pity a second longer.
“Okay, why did you come back? Why didn”t you stay with the Jacksons like Nate did? You could have had a happier life like he had.”
“I didn”t know how to,” I admit.
“What do you mean?” she asks as she looks at me with furrowed eyebrows and an inquisitive look.
“What you have to understand is that me and Nate are built very differently. My father was an absolute cunt to both of us. He hit Nate more times than I can count. But the way he tortured me was on a different level. He knew how much I loved my baby brother, and used that against me every single day. He would beat on Nate, make him cry, and cover him in bruises on a weekly basis. But those bruises would eventually heal. And once the attack was over, it would be calm for a few days. I never had that calm.” I admit as I take another drag of my cigarette and chug some of my beer.
“You see, I lived with the constant threat looming over my head. The threat that if I didn”t follow his every command, he’d hurt Nate, maybe even kill him. I lived with the fear that every time I walked out the door, even to follow his commands, I was leaving Nate alone and unprotected. I went to bed every single night fearful that if I slept too soundly, I may wake up next to a beaten and bloody Nate. So I was never safe.” Riley reaches her hand up to cup my face but I pull away, knowing if I have to look at the sadness in her eyes, I”ll never be strong enough to continue.
“And even after we were finally free from his grasp, I was never able to ease that tension in my body. I was never able to accept that another adult could be good. Never able to shake the fear I felt whenever one of them called Nate away from me or would come into the room to say goodnight.”
My mind flashes back to one of the first weeks we lived with the Jacksons.
The sun is beaming down on me as I continue mowing the lawn in front of the house. Nate is with Mr. Jackson on the sidewalk just a few feet away. Mr. Jackson is trying to teach him to ride a small blue bicycle but Nates is too scared to ride alone. “Look at me Gabe, I”m doing it!” Nate squeals as he begins peddling as Mr. Jackson runs along behind him.
“Good job, bro!” I yelled back. For once feeling oddly peaceful.
“Mrs. Jackson, can I get a drink please?” I ask, trying my hardest to be good. Show them that I can be good.
“Of course, Gabe,” Mrs. Jackson responds as she flashes me a smile.
I fill a glass full of water from the sink and am just about to take a sip when I hear a loud scream from Nate. Without thinking, I grab one of the big knives from the knife block beside the sink and rush outside. As I do, I see Nate lying on the hard concrete bleeding as Mr. Jackson crouches down in front of him.
“Get the fuck away from him!” I scream as I run towards Mr. Jackson with the knife in my hand. I throw my arms around my brother and hold the knife outstretched in warning towards Mr. Jackson”s face. “Touch my brother again and I”ll ram this knife so far down your throat you’ll choke on your own fucking blood!” I scream as I desperately try to protect my brother from whatever this monster did in the thirty seconds my back was turned. I knew I shouldn”t have left him alone. Stupid, stupid Gabe. You”re a failure. Never good enough to be able to keep him safe. My mind taunts.
Mr. Jackson cowers in fear as Mrs. Jackson tries coming to her husband”s aid.
“Gabe, give me the knife,” she says but I hear the fear and quivering in her voice.
“Gabe, it”s not like that; it”s my fault, I…” Nate tries to defend the man who may be minutes from his death. I won’t let Nate take the blame. He always tries to see the good in people.
“No, he hurt you. I know he did. And no one is going to hurt you. Never again. Not while I”m here,” I tell him as I continue to wave the knife in the direction of our foster parents.
Riley”s hand on my face breaks me out of my memories. “Where did you go?” she asks as she continues to stroke my face lovingly.
“I was just thinking about my time at the Jacksons.”
“What about it?” she asks, looking confused.
“You asked why I didn”t stay and well, I made everyone”s life a living hell. I had to leave before they got rid of the both of us, and Nate lost his only hope at a real family.” My heart aches as I think of the way it felt to leave him behind. And all the pain I”ve felt in those years since. But seeing the happy, loving person he became, I know I made the right choice.
“I”m sure you weren”t that bad; they must have known taking in kids with childhood trauma wouldn”t be all smooth sailing,” she says as she tries to lighten the mood.
“You think I”m a dick now, I was worse as a kid. I threatened to stab my foster dad within the first few weeks.”
“Everyone says stuff they don”t mean when they’re a kid,” Riley interrupts.
“No Riley, you don”t understand. I didn”t just say, ‘Oh I’m gonna stab you’ in jest. I grabbed a knife and held it up to him and threatened to stab him with it,” I admit. I see Riley’s eyes widen as she swallows an invisible breath.
“I”m sure you had your reason,” she adds, but it”s clear from her tone and face that she doesn”t truly believe that.
“Yeah, I misread a situation. He was teaching Nate to ride a bike, and I turned my back just as he decided Nate was doing well enough to let go. Nate panicked and ended up crashing. All I heard was a scream and as I ran out, I saw my foster father kneeling over a bleeding Nate. My first instinct was that he was trying to hurt him, or perhaps already had so I jumped in to save him without thinking.”
“Oh, Gabe,” Riley soothes as she leans down and kisses me softly. “That doesn”t make you a monster; that makes you a protector. Sure, a kind of crazy one, but a protector nonetheless. You saw your brother in what you believed was danger, and since you”d never known anything other than danger, you naturally jumped to conclusions,” she says as she grips my face and forces me to look at her again. “It”s not your fault baby,” she adds as she kisses me again.
How does she see me so completely? And not just the version of me that I show the world, but really and truly sees ME. The broken yet fragile me that I keep hidden deep within.
I don”t know how long we sit outside going back and forth as Riley asks question after question about my past, my relationships, whether or not I have other family members, and so on.
“Okay, one last question and then we will head out for lunch as I”m starving,” Riley whines at the same time as her stomach growls like there”s a wild animal hiding inside. “What”s the deal with you and Izzy? I still don”t fully understand.”
“What”s there to understand?” I ask.
“Well, from what you”ve told me, everything you”ve ever done is basically to protect Nate and keep him safe, correct?”
“Yeah,” I say slowly, not really understanding what she”s getting at.
“Well I”ve heard Nate and Izzy tell their story many times. They talk about this whole epic romance they had, how they met as friends, and some fun things they did together. How they communicated through letters, letters that you helped Nate read and send. And how the three of you kind of grew up together. So Izzy seems like she was good. She”s always been good for Nate. So why do you hate her so much?”
“There”s always another side to every story, Cinders ” I say, as I feel the anger and disappointment building up in me.
“So what”s your side then?” Riley asks.
“She betrayed us. We trusted her; we were honest with her. The first person in our whole life we trusted, and she used that against us. Nate loved her. Heck, I think even I did in my own, protective big brother way, and she broke his heart.
“What do you mean?” Riley asks as she sits herself down on my lap to listen.
I tell her all about the first time they met, how I came home from school and Nate was missing. I spent hours circling the woods, shouting his name as I searched for him. My brain had me convinced my father had come home from work and hurt him. I describe how I hadn’t been just looking for my brother playing, I was also looking for blood, signs of a struggle, or even a bloody and battered body discarded on the floor like trash. And how relieved I was when I finally found him sitting on her family”s porch with a smile on his face. I explain how I begged Nate to stay away but how he disobeyed me every single time, which caused me stress constantly when I would arrive home and he was again gone.
I go on to explain how I slowly came to tolerate Izzy, and eventually even like her when I saw how happy she made Nate. I was truly grateful for her family showing him love and affection. Despite being jealous and envious, because I also longed to find what he had found in them, I was still happy for him.
I share how happy and fuzzy it made me feel as I got to watch them fall in love letter by letter. And how part of me wished the words I was reading, the ones saying how much she missed him and how much she couldn”t wait to spend time with him were aimed at me. I admit that some of the words I wrote back to her about how great of a friend she was came from my own heart as well.
“But then she betrayed us both. We trusted her with a secret, a secret not another living soul knew about, and she ran to her grandparents. Because of her actions, our whole life was upended and thrown into a new level of chaos,” I huff, “I”m thankful the Jacksons agreed to take us both in, even if for only a short time. We could have easily been separated and thrown into separate homes, never to see each other again. Or worse, we could have been put in another abusive home, one which we never survived.”
“Oh baby,” Riley replies sadly as she grips my hand reassuringly.
“What would have happened if my father had managed to talk those cops around, made them believe the house was fine? He would have killed one, if not both of us, for sure. Her loose lips could have been the end for us both.” I feel the anger, fear, and hurt take over as I’m reminded of all those feelings.
“I understand but you have to forgive her; she was only a child. She didn”t know what she was doing. I”m sure she was trying to help,” Riley implores as she rests her head against my chest.
“It didn”t feel like that, it still doesn”t,” I admit.
Riley buries her head into my chest and holds onto me tightly as she listens to me continue to explain how betrayed I felt when we got taken into care. What it felt like to be ripped away from the only bits of stability I knew. The anger that raged through me because I blamed Isabella for putting a wedge between me and Nate, and the loss I felt because up until we moved in with the Jacksons, he”d always depended on me. When we went there, it suddenly felt like he didn”t need me anymore.
I feel silly as I hear how pathetic my own words sound now that I”m saying them out loud. Yet the whole time Riley nods along, not once laughing or making me feel guilty for my crazy thoughts or feelings.
“I guess when you had to move back here alone, it just made you blame her more for making you have to deal with all that shit alone,” Riley adds. Shit, does she truly agree and understand?
“Wait, you agree with me? That it”s all Isabella’”s fault?” I gasp.
“Well, yes and no,” Riley says with a shrug. “I know Izzy and she still feels guilty about everything that happened. She knows she had a role in what happened, but it was unintentional. Plus I know her, she”s one of my best friends, and I know she’d never purposefully do anything to hurt either of you. Even now, when you still treat her like shit, she”s always one of the first to defend you.”
“Oh,” so she does think it”s all in my head then.
“But…” she adds with a pause, “I also understand why you”d see it the way you do. I know that for you, trust is a huge thing to give away, so in your mind for her to tell anyone else is a huge betrayal. I also kind of get why you blame her. But please, for me, I beg you to try to forgive her or at least tolerate her. Baby, you”re just hurting everyone around you by holding on to your anger. Imagine how nice it would be for the four of us to all be together. My best friend and your brother. It would be so nice. Please for me, will you try?” Riley begs as she runs her hands through my hair.
“For you, I”ll try,” I say. As much as I don”t want to, I know she”s right. I”ve seen small glimpses of the old Izzy I knew growing up. And I can see how if I let it, a friendship could easily form. Plus I hate that Riley feels the need to sneak around. I hear how she talks about her friends. And I hear how Nate talks about the group, the ones that became like a second family to him. And I can”t help but secretly wish I could fit in with them all.
“That”s all I ask baby. One day at a time.” Riley sighs as she pulls me closer and kisses me softly.