Chapter 16 #2
“What did he say?” Jessie Jane asked, looking at him with sympathy. Well. Jessie looking at him so softly … It made his chest ache, and he didn’t need his chest to ache right now.
“Nothing. Just the usual kind of vitriol you expect from people like him.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” she said.
Which was maybe the most relationship thing the woman had ever said to him.
Soothed, he turned his focus back to handing out flyers, buttons, and other Jessie Jane–related paraphernalia.
Until the street started to get less and less crowded, and darkness began to fall, and a chill settled in the air.
Perry had sold almost all her dried flower bunches, and there was very little to clean up except the booth itself, which was being handled by some volunteer organizers for the event.
Jessie had given out most of her literature, and they started packing up what was left.
“You’re an idiot, you know.”
Flynn turned sharply, and there was his brother again, right in his face.
“Here you are. Obsessed with me. It’s very weird.”
That seemed to enrage Michael. He took a step forward, his chipmunk cheeks red and his eyes glittering. “They’re not going to vote for some woman trying to use her rack to get votes.”
Jessie looked down at her shirt and then back up. And Flynn saw red. He was beyond himself. He stepped out of the booth and punched his younger brother in the face.
“Don’t you ever, ever talk about her or any other woman like that.”
Michael was holding his face, down on the ground, shouting and cussing.
“I’ll … I’ll ruin you,” he said.
“Ruin me how? I’m already at the bottom of the well in this town.
You can’t get me fired—I work for myself.
You, on the other hand, might lose some clients.
” He reached down and lifted his brother up, bringing him back onto his feet.
“Maybe some of this is my fault. Maybe I wasn’t the older brother you should’ve had.
So let me tell you something, but it’s not man-to-man, because you’re no kind of man.
If you ever talk about a woman like that, you should expect to get hit.
Because no real man is going to stand by and let it happen.
And you’re sure as hell not going to win any points with it.
Not with anyone who has a shred of integrity.
You can critique the policies that Jessie is running on, but the minute you start talking like that, you’ve already lost.” He shook his head.
“I don’t envy you. Because whatever happened in your life, you came out like this.
And I would rather be me every day of the goddamned week. ”
He shoved his brother back. Michael stumbled a little but righted himself.
“I should call the police,” Michael said.
“Go right ahead. You’re going to look like the biggest crybaby in the world.
You called the cops because your big brother punched you in your ugly mug for running your mouth about his girlfriend.
You know what the real problem is, Michael?
You envy me. Because you’re stuck being whatever it is you are. And I’m me.”
He felt hands on his shoulder, and then Jessie wrapped her arms around him. “You really didn’t have to do that. You know men have said way worse things to me.”
“Not in front of me,” he said. “And I’m not going to stand for it.”
The incident had drawn a small crowd, and as Michael slinked away about three-quarters of the people stepped forward and started to take brochures out of the box Jessie had been packing up.
Everyone had heard what had been said, and certainly no one seemed to think that the punch was unjustified. “Anyway, that was probably good for my campaign,” she said.
“He’s disgusting,” Flynn growled.
“Well. People often are. Why was he harassing you today?”
“He feels threatened. He’s such a small man, anything that threatens his power enrages him.
But really, all the power belongs to Danielle.
It doesn’t belong to him. He’s always felt insignificant.
I could have been there for him, but they never wanted me.
That’s what he said. My mom never wanted me there. ”
“Flynn …”
“It makes sense. She felt guilty, so she kept inviting me, but she didn’t actually want to deal with me. It would’ve been more convenient for her if I could’ve just disappeared from her life. I’ve always felt that, but it … Yeah. It’s something to get confirmation.”
“Please don’t listen to him.”
“Why not? It’s actually good. I have confirmation. It’s something I always knew was probably true, and now I just … It’s fine.”
He ignored the stabbing feeling in his chest and kept packing things up. Perry was looking on, clearly uncertain what to say.
“You know how dysfunctional families are,” he said to his sister-in-law.
“Well, yeah.”
“It’s nothing.”
Except she looked as if she wanted to cry for him, and he really didn’t need that. He didn’t need any of this.
Because his dysfunctional family was something that was always part of his life. Always. Michael talking about it didn’t mean that it hadn’t been there all along.
And hearing the truth in front of everybody didn’t mean it was news to him.
Jessie shot Perry a look, and Perry nodded, then vanished inside her store. He had the very distinct feeling he was being managed.
“What?” he asked.
“I’ve thought we should talk and …”
“I don’t have anything to say, Jessie. There’s nothing to say. He’s a prick, and that was unfortunate. I’m sorry he talked trash about you.”
“Like I said, it’s not a big deal. Men are like that sometimes. I’m not hurt.”
“That’s how I feel,” he said. “I wish our confrontation hadn’t played out on the street, but my family is like that. It’s not my fault.”
Except he felt it might be. It was the strangest thing. Because he’d had this moment of clarity, but the follow-up sensation was just gross. Maybe all of his initial thoughts were just wrong, and maybe the conversation hadn’t actually gone down exactly the way he was remembering it even now.
Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he felt that somehow he had lost because Michael had succeeded in making him act like the person his whole family already thought he was.
Maybe that shouldn’t bother him. Maybe he should be fine with it. With himself. But he just felt like shit, and he had been in this position before. He never knew what to say. He never knew what to do. He was swamped by a complete and utter sensation of being inadequate. In every way.
They loaded up the truck, and the silence in the cab was sharp.
He had never had to contend with another person while he was going through family trauma, and Jessie’s truck was at his house, where she had been staying with him. So it was all just … great.
“It really isn’t you. It’s not,” she said, when they were about ten minutes down the road. “You’re right. He’s jealous of you. Because you have a better life. And you’re a better person.”
“He doesn’t think I’m a better person, though. He thinks I’m trash.”
“Maybe he does, but I think deep down he must know better.”
“Just don’t,” he said. “There’s no point having a conversation. There’s no point trying to make me feel better. This is just stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. You’re allowed to have feelings about the fact that your family is a bunch of assholes. I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this, honestly. I feel like the dynamics are just so … toxic. I feel really awful about it.”
“I don’t need your guilt on top of everything else, Jessie. Don’t make it about you.”
He felt her shrink over to her side of the car, and he felt like a dick. Because now here he was being mean to the person who was trying to be nice to him. “I didn’t mean that.”
“You probably did a little,” she said. “And that’s fair. I don’t want you to be upset, because I … want you to be happy. I like it when you’re happy, and I guess that’s a bit self-serving.”
“It’s not. It’s probably normal. But what would you and I know about normal? We’re both maladjusted.”
She huffed a laugh. “Well. That’s true. But today gave me a lot of clarity. Because my family does want me. And they do love me. And I’m sorry there are people in your family tree that act like Michael. It’s really not fair.”
“Life’s not fair.”
He didn’t know why, but the sympathy was making him prickly. And he was starting to get frustrated.
“Flynn, I don’t want to fight.”
“I’m not fighting with you,” he said, his voice rising just slightly.
He let out a long, slow breath and relented. “I’m sorry. I’m fighting a little bit. And I don’t mean to. I’m just frustrated. I’m frustrated that they have the ability to get to me. Because they shouldn’t. I’m frustrated because I know it’s not my fault, but it feels like my fault.”
“Fair.”
She didn’t say anything else. Finally, they pulled into the driveway of his house. He just wanted to get away from the discussion, from the thoughts in his head. From everything.
“Maybe you should go home,” he said.
He looked at her. At the stubborn set of her chin, and he really thought she was going to argue. “Sure,” she said. “If that’s what you want.”
“Yeah. It’s what I want. I need some time by myself.”
“I get it.”
“Maybe if this was … if this was something real. Maybe then it would make sense for you to stay, but it’s just for the election.”
He knew that was a terrible thing to say. He didn’t even think he meant it. But she could tell him he was wrong. She could tell him she did want him, their being together had nothing to do with the election. She could …
No. There was no point in that. He had to deal with it by himself because that was the way he had to deal with everything. What they had wasn’t real. It was true. It might hurt her to hear it said like that, but they both knew it. They were dysfunctional.
They weren’t going to work out their dysfunction together.
They’d had some moments that felt really good. But they were just moments.
They had great sex. He liked her. They were friends, even, but it didn’t go beyond that. If he was ever going to share his pain with somebody, if he was ever going to experience it with someone, it would be someone who was more than a friend. It would be … something else.
“Oh,” she said. “Well. Of course. You did punch him in the face, though. For me.”
“I would’ve done that for any woman.”
Of course, hearing it said about any other woman wouldn’t have made his blood boil that hot that quickly. “I mean, he shouldn’t have said it about you. It did make me extra mad. But it’s just … You’re my friend. You are my friend.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m your friend. I really appreciate that, Flynn.
I do. But … if I’m your friend, maybe we shouldn’t sleep together.
Because it’s been a little bit intense, with me here at your house.
It’s fine that you want me to leave. It really is.
It makes sense. It actually makes way more sense than the amount of time I’ve been spending here.
Especially with the election being just a few days away. ”
“Exactly. So you get it. Because I haven’t had any time alone, and this whole thing just kind of caved my head in. And I really need just some time …”
“You have it,” she said, a shrill note to her voice. “You have all the time you need. Fuck. Great. Take time.”
She was mad. Her words weren’t angry, but they sounded angry.
And there was a strange kind of panicked feeling in his chest even though he knew what he had said was totally reasonable, because it was everything they had agreed upon.
Because dammit, they were outlaws. They were lone wolves.
They both were. And it wasn’t just that he was committed to his facade and she was committed to hers.
It wasn’t just that he didn’t know how to let down his guard, and he didn’t know what to do right now because everything inside him felt like it was bleeding.
No. It couldn’t be that. He was just being damned reasonable.
“I’ll probably call you tomorrow.”
“You could also not. Because we’ve done all the work we need to do for the election. But you have to vote. You still have to vote—you know that, right? And so does your whole family.”
“Of course I’m going to vote. I’m not going to let Danielle win now.
I’m all in. I punched my brother in the damned face.
In fact, no one on that side of my family will probably ever speak to me again.
Which is fine. It’s better that way. Can you imagine?
My mom had to pretend she wanted me around for my whole life, because she didn’t want to look like a terrible person.
I’m glad I could be the worse person. The smaller person.
I’m glad I could be the one to finally cut the cord. Honestly, best decision I ever made.”
“Yeah. It is. It’s a good decision. Just like this one. I’ll see you. On Election Day.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you.”
She got into her truck, and she didn’t kiss him goodbye. Which was fine.
He walked up the steps into the house, and he put his hand on his chest. He felt like he was having a heart attack. His whole body hurt. And he was alone. Which was exactly how it should be. Because he deserved to be alone. He fucking did. He deserved to be without Jessie. Without his mom.
Because he had never really fit. And so he had to be good at this isolation thing. It was really the only thing.
It was fine.
But he felt for some reason as if he had just severely broken something, and if he thought about it, he had a feeling he would figure out exactly what and why.
But he hadn’t asked for this. He hadn’t asked for any of it.
He hadn’t asked to be born; he hadn’t asked for his half siblings to resent him.
He hadn’t even asked for this whole election debacle.
He growled and threw his elbow against the hard side of the wall, cursing when he left a dent in the drywall. Why was this so fucking hard?
Living. Being a human.
About the only thing that hadn’t been hard was being with Jessie. It was all the surrounding things. It was …
He thought of her face. Of the hurt in her eyes when he had sent her on her way.
He wasn’t going to dwell on that. He just wasn’t.
He hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true.
But then, maybe Michael hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true.