The Confidant

Chapter Thirteen

Adelaide

We spend the week slowly moving me out of the old apartment. Now that he has me where he wants me, he isn’t in a hurry.

Our ‘argument’ ended in compromise, and he got over his issue of not wanting to hurt me the second I started rubbing all over him. A few times reminding him how good it felt and telling him I loved him sealed that deal.

Now the man has lost his mind. He wanders around my apartment like it’s a museum, picking stuff up with a bright smile and asking me questions about each thing he sees. I’m suddenly surrounded by ancient relics that have to be treated delicately.

By Wednesday, I’m ready to smack him because it’s taking too long with his ‘help’.

Lucky for him, he gets called away for another photo shoot in LA. He drags his feet and begs me to come. I tell him no because I’d like to move in with all my things before a full year passes. The pouting afterward was adorable and ridiculous.

He left that night with a lot of lingering kisses at the door, and Racer firmly clamped under his arm.

It isn’t until I’m at my place, alone, that loneliness hits me. I have to fight myself to keep from calling him to turn around and kidnap me. I know he would in a heartbeat. This might be the last time he goes on a trip by himself.

Thursday, I get a text from Asher. It surprises me that I haven’t heard from any of my family for almost a month. I’ve stopped thinking about reaching out so much, which is startling by itself.

Ash: Meet up tomorrow at the diner. Everyone will be with me.

Holy cow, all of them? Not just a promise of his angel, but the icing and sprinkles on the cake, too?

My heart pounds with excitement, but I try to play it cool as I agree.

The nervous happiness has a wet blanket hanging over it to keep it calm. I can’t help thinking about everything related to my family. Without Poe standing next to me, that weight is crashing back onto my shoulders.

Dani seems to think I’m going to hold it against Ash for introducing them to the rest of the family first. I admit it stings. But now it’s my turn.

I’m not like the rest of them with their uptight attitudes and willingness to bow and scrape to Maman’s whims. Here’s hoping they can appreciate that.

This is my chance. I can talk to Ash about the Dani thing. Maybe complain a little about how weird Maman has gotten to test the waters. Tell him about Poe?

I’m nervous about talking to him, and I don’t want to put more pressure on myself.

There’s also my hesitation in sharing my One with someone who might not think I even deserve to have a soulmate.

I try to shake that thought off. Not Asher. He isn’t like the rest, he’s ok.

Then why has it taken this long for me to meet them?

Maybe he has had the same reservations I’m going through now. If I prove to him that I accept them all face to face, it might make a difference. I can take my time with my own troubles.

Besides, it’s not like this is the last time I’m ever going to see him. But I don’t want to put meeting them off even longer than it has been. I refuse to be the reason we haven’t met.

The excitement quickly overcomes my concerns.

I get to meet the people who brought my baby brother into the sunshine!

I race into the bedroom, squealing to myself. I haven’t gotten everything from the closet. Tera’s baby gift is still here.

I drag down the hidden raccoon toy with the rattle inside. It has a blanket the size of a handkerchief attached. Perfect for a new little boo. I shake it and chuckle at the sound.

The thought of telling Poe about this meeting rises and falls quickly. He isn’t in town. I know this will worry him. What happens if Ash doesn’t show? I don’t want to prove him right about my family. I want my connection back. Dread begins to build in my gut just thinking about it.

Poe can forgive me for a little omission, right? It won’t be a big deal anyway. Until I rub it in his face that I met up with them.

I’ll raccoon-roll my way through this like I always do. Have dinner and see where I end up.

Friday passes by slowly and too fast at the same time. Sitting in the shop alone without customers is beginning to wear on me. Damon and Grace came to visit for lunch. Other than that, it’s a monotony of nothing but time. With Poe out of town, it’s made even worse.

I’m nervous as hell. I want to give his group a good impression of me, no matter what. I change several times, trying to look like the lady Maman always insists I be. No tattoos showing. Light makeup. Keep my hair out of my face. Try not to get so stressed that I sweat my deodorant off. I still haven’t gotten my hair dyed yet. My roots are showing badly now. I’ll wear a beanie instead.

I’m ready to walk out the door when my text chime goes off. A sense of dread washes over me. I’m afraid to pull my phone out.

While my mind is in turmoil, my body acts automatically, pulling the phone out for me to see.

I don’t even have to look. The screen wakes up, and I see the text, making all my feelings turn numb.

Asher: Never mind about the dinner. Stay home. Maman is looking for you.

If Maman were looking for me, wouldn’t she call me directly? Or did she forget to take me off the call blacklist?

This is a brush-off. I know it. A denial of my meeting the people most important to him, with Maman as an excuse.

Unless she really did call him, and he’s buying into what she’s told him about me.

My purse slides off my shoulder to drop on the floor, spilling out its contents.

My brain takes over to run this around in my head

He’s cancelled before. We’ve both forgotten. It happens.

Somehow, those convictions ring hollow as Maman’s voice begins to repeat in my head. How I’m not one of them. Not a Broussard. It completely drowns out the positive logic I’m trying my best to keep through the situation. Positive thoughts bring positive outcomes. But, a measly few droplets of water won’t snuff out the fire of my pain.

My heart drops to my weakening knees. So many little things pile up in my head as my knees finally give out. The pain in my butt from dropping to the floor is barely noticeable.

Did Maman poison him against me? I wouldn’t doubt it. But why would he believe her about anything dealing with me? He knows me. Better than anyone in the family.

My mind whispers over all the clues I’m trying to ignore.

He’s never once hugged me. He’s never told me he loved me. At best, he seems to tolerate me. I frustrate him more often than not because of my pranks and general lack of pity for him.

Instead of showing him all the negative feelings I’ve had about his struggles, the guilt, the remorse and heartache, I gave him the positive, stand strong attitude. No matter what. I always made him pick himself back up so he knew he could do it. Was that where I went wrong? Should I have babied him more?

All I can think is, why? What did I do? To him especially.

All I’ve ever tried to offer my family is love. Even when I’m hurt. Even when I’m angry. I’ve kept every one of my troubles out of their eyes.

I feel like we’re all stuck on an island, and a ship to take us home is in sight. And they’re telling me I can’t be saved. They’re leaving their trash behind.

My shaky hands enter the passcode to open the phone. Before I can text him back to ask him why , Maman’s name scrolls across the phone. The ring startles me. I can hear that death knell ringing all around me now.

Helpless, I answer.

“Hello?” I ask weakly. My mind is racing around, chasing its own tail in a nerve-racking rush that won’t stop. I want to ask her why she hates me so much. I don’t have the guts for it. I can’t hear her admit one more time that I’m like my father. It will break me.

I liked myself better when I didn’t know the answers to my questions.

“I cannot believe you,” her voice comes out as a shaky whisper filled with rage.

I look down at the floor, ashamed and guilty, even though I have no idea what I’ve done now. My silence seems to enrage her even more.

“You’re shameless. And so eaten up by hate that you don’t care, do you?”

My lips tremble as the tears finally flood out of my eyes.

“What did I do ?” I whisper plaintively. I don’t understand any of this anymore. What have I ever done to these people, my family , to be treated this way?

“This website is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. And here you are, so proud of it. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

My brows furrow, my brain taking a new track downhill. One that’s even more filled with dangerous curves and drop-offs.

“Website?” I murmur in confusion.

Her sudden shout startles me so badly that I almost drop my phone.

“Don’t you pretend you don’t know! If I hadn’t seen that disgraceful post from your boyfriend, I would have never known about it, would I? Were you waiting for Asher to see it? For him to have his nose rubbed into your mess and dredge up his pain? Is that what you want? Well, too bad. I already told him about this mess, and he’s just as furious as I am. You leave my baby alone!”

I’m speechless. There’s only one website that I know of. Poe would not have let it leak. How did she see it? How does she know about Poe?

And what does she mean about dredging up Asher’s pain? The site has nothing to do with him. Unless she means I’m telling tales about Asher so I can get a job covering scars.

Is this really what she thinks of me? And Asher believes it?

My brain is scattered all over the place as pain hits me from all sides. I can feel the fragile grip I’ve had on my self-confidence, my belief that my family still loves me, begin to slide out of my fingers.

“What? You got nothing to say to me? Good! I never want to hear from you again! But first, you’re going to take this shameful website down. And you’re going to tear up every single picture you took of my baby. I know you have to have some somewhere, you demon. I don’t even know what to say. How did you get so rotten inside?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The knowledge that no matter what I say to defend myself or ask questions, my words will be twisted strangles me into silence.

There’s not a shred of hope left inside me right now.

“I will not sit back and let you destroy him, you hear me?”

“I hear you,” I whisper with a croak.

She called Asher and played around with the truth. Something that Ash would never be able to forgive me for. I’ve been tattooing scars. He probably thinks I’ve been using him as a promotion for the shop. I downright know Maman does.

I could never do that to him. Or anyone else, for that matter. Pain is personal. You share it with those you trust, not strangers.

None of my family will ever believe that.

“You take that down. Right now! Or I will come down there and put the wrath of God on you. You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re just like your father!”

The line beeps, signaling that she’s hung up on me. I’m hurting too bad at her parting shot to notice.

A sharp, agonizing pain rips through my chest. For a second, I half believe she ripped my heart out.

I’m just like my father.

I was his favorite. The one he tried to write to when he tracked us down after jail. I have his hair color. His eye color. Hell, I might be a feminine carbon copy of him.

It doesn’t matter if I change my hair or wear contacts. His influence will always be underneath. Something I can never wipe away, no matter how hard I try.

A hereditary evil.

“Being evil is a choice.”

Poe’s voice echoes softly in my head. A small piece of sanity stuck in an undertow of white noise.

I glance down as my phone screen reappears. There’s a notification that I have a message on social media from two hours ago. I never heard it go off. I was too busy running around, trying to be perfect for the meeting that will never come. That knowledge rips my chest open again.

Is that what they all see when they look at me? Our father?

I want to be sick at the thought.

My finger clicks on the notification, even though I’m not sure why. I’m going into some kind of autopilot while I try to make myself numb.

Bile rises in my throat when I see the post. I know this is what Maman was talking about.

My heart completely shatters at what I see. Splintering into so many tiny pieces, I’ll never be able to find them.

There, plain as day, is a picture of my thigh. The raccoon playing with the beach ball, and every cut is in vivid detail. I can’t catch my breath.

William posted it with a message that breaks me down even further.

“I don’t know why Addie would do something this disgusting. Help me convince her to stop and get help for these poor people.”

When did he take this? I know it was him. Poe would never take a photo from such a bad angle. It looks like I’m in bed, based on the color of the fabric highlighting it. That one drunken night had a lot more repercussions than I thought it would. I’m so thankful my face isn’t in this. It’s ridiculous to think that when he blatantly called me out on the post. He even tagged me in it, so I would be sure to see.

I slow down when I reach the first comment he made on the original. It’s a web link. When I click on it, Poe's website comes up. All the blood rushing around drops out of my face until I feel like I’m about to pass out.

Not only is William exposing my secrets, but he’s also taken the people from SoT down with me.

Why? I don’t understand any of this.

My phone rings, and Damon’s name comes up. I answer it automatically. The only sound I can hear is his panicked breathing.

“Please don’t hang up!” His shout doesn’t startle me. I’m falling into some numb place where I can’t feel much.

“Okay,” I mumble, staring at nothing.

“I didn’t know, Addie. I didn’t, I swear. I saw William last week, and we were catching up. I told him about the website and Poe. I was so goddamn proud of it I practically squealed like a pig. I never thought he would do something like this. Why the fuck did I say anything?”

He sounds so desperate. I can tell that he’s crying, while my tears have stopped at the shock.

How many people have seen this? It’s been up for two hours already.

“Addie,” his voice cracks down the middle. “Is that really a picture of you? Are you… have you been cutting?”

My thumb slides over the disconnect button. I can’t hear his sobbing breaths anymore. As if all of this could stop if I refused to hear it.

I text Poe on autopilot, declining Damon’s next call.

Me: Take the website down. It got leaked.

Oh God, he’s never going to want to see me again. I just crushed any trust any of these people could ever have in me. Not to mention what their reactions to my scars would be.

I’m not brave like them. I’m not strong. I’m just a person trying to pretend she’s decent.

As if to prove my thoughts, Grace calls. When I decline it, Damon’s name comes up again.

I can’t. I just can’t. I have nothing to defend myself with and no one to back me up.

I silence my phone, but that’s even worse.

A pressure is building up inside me that I don’t recognize. It’s filled with hate, anger, disgust, and a million other filthy emotions I can’t identify. It’s rolling up into a fat ball inside me, waiting to pop out and shred me to pieces.

I glance at the mess on the floor, reaching to clean it up as if that’s the most important thing in my world. The first thing I see is the toy for the baby. I gasp out a pained breath and grip it tight. My hand shakes so hard that the rattle sounds out when I pick it up.

Will I ever be able to see the baby?

That’s another agonizing reality I can’t face.

I’ll never be good enough even to see Tera, much less their baby.

I give up. Why am I still fighting? What’s the point?

I look around, my sight blurry with tears, and find my trash can. I drop the toy inside before I can talk myself out of it.

On impulse, I go to the shop. My safe haven. The curtains over the windows are drawn. No one can see inside. I’m safe here.

Right?

Seeing Damon’s empty side of it makes the tears start up again. Every part of his presence is gone.

“Of course, he left. We weren’t really friends, I bet. He’s probably as fake as all the rest of them.”

I can’t do this anymore. Seeing this shop through their eyes makes me feel dirty.

That pressure pops, and I begin sobbing erratically.

Before I can second-guess myself, I’m moving.

Every single picture gets taken off the walls and shredded by hand. At first, I’m frantically removing them. Ripping them off to wad up and throw them behind me. The ones in frames get smashed and stomped on. I have all this pain with nowhere to go.

“No more of my trashy artwork. It’s all pathetic.”

I’m out of breath when I see my portfolio. All those damn photos I used to be so proud of. I can’t stand it. They get torn apart, too.

When I get to Asher’s photos, I take my time shredding them. I make sure there isn’t anything left to put back together. All I can think about is a clean slate. Over and over again. I have to have a clean slate so I can get better.

Nothing for anyone to look at. Nothing to point to and prove I’m just like my father. I want to erase everything, including myself.

The last picture of Asher trembles in my hands. The one tattoo I refused to color in. The flower over his heart. The one I’ve been waiting for him to figure out a color for that defines him in his own words.

He finally got it filled in. I thought it was a step forward. Turns out that forward momentum was another way to get away from my toxicity. He has no more reasons to come back here. No wonder it’s so easy to push me away. He doesn’t need me.

“No more waiting for Asher to say I love you back. No more desperate hugs, praying for him to reach out just once. I’m not worth it, and I never will be.”

I tear it all apart until there’s nothing left.

Ink bottles, opened and poured down the sink. Cleaner spread all over the place to cover up the smell of it, like I’m trying to bleach away my sins. My tattoo gun, bent and broken into pieces over the countertop. All swept into a trash can without ceremony.

Nothing for them to talk about. No evidence to point at and prove I’m evil. Nothing left.

I take the open sign down and break it into pieces. Watching it chip apart is somehow more satisfying than anything else.

The decision to close is suddenly easy. I don’t think I want to see this place ever again.

“ I built this shop. No wonder it flopped.”

My phone keeps up with the non-stop buzzing. I’m catching my breath when I notice it shaking across the floor. I see the call log through the broken screen. I don’t even know when I dropped it. All calls from Damon and Grace. Nothing from Poe.

I duck behind the counter to hide as I sob. The phone gets powered off quickly and shoved aside.

I don’t know how long I sit there. I’m barely aware of anything. I’m too caught up in my spiral of self-hate.

A part of me is aching to cut my skin. Every time I think of finding something to do it with, an image of my thigh comes into my mind. How everyone has seen it and judged me for it. My worst fear came to life. It makes the urge worse and more shameful to give in to. If I do it, am I proving how evil I am? If I don’t, would anyone care?

The sound of glass shattering startles me out of my stupor. My knees ache and refuse to move for a second. I’m so emotionally exhausted, I barely look up at the crunching, hurried steps that race around the counter.

Poe stands at the separating door, out of breath as if he’s run all the way from LA. His clothes are disheveled, his bag and Racer in his hand. His hair is a wild snarl around his face. His eyes are locked on me.

“Addie.”

The way he says my name. It gets me every time. Like I’m some kind of salvation when I’m nothing.

I stand to pretend everything is normal. My acting skills aren’t up to the task. My knees hurt so bad I almost fall, and there’s a pins and needles sensation to let me know everything below my waist fell asleep at some point.

“Hey,” I manage to get out with a tight smile.

Everything drops from his hand as he moves past the separator. He takes three steps and stops again.

“What’s wrong, siren? Talk to me. Please .”

I swallow hard to get the dryness in my mouth out. It doesn’t work worth a damn. Everything inside and outside of me feels bruised.

“Maman called and told me about the site getting leaked.” One sentence to explain why my heart is scattered at my feet. I can’t make anything else come out. My voice is weak and hoarse from all my crying. I feel like I have a terminal illness that I’ll spread to him if he gets too close.

He takes that in with a furrow in his brow.

“Damon and Grace called me. I saw it.”

I flinch, my eyes dropping to the ground.

“Why did you shut me out of this?” He asks in a rough voice.

“Because I’m in love with you, and I’m scared you’re going to run because I’m not worth it. To anyone. She said I’m just like my dad. How did I not see it?” Tears track down my cheeks as his eyes go wide in surprise. My heart goes into a stasis mode that leaves me feeling a little empty. The longer he stares without speaking, the more it begins to fill with pain.

He sees it, too. The ugliness that’s inside me, waiting to pop out. Has he always seen it? I bet all his perfect words have been a lie from the start.

He rushes to me, wrapping his arms so tightly around my waist that it’s suffocating. And so right. I’ve missed him so much. I was torturing myself more than I was torturing him with my silence.

“I love you, Addie. I have from the very beginning,” he kisses my hair wildly. “You are everything that is right in my world. Every piece of happiness I have, you handed to me with a smile, siren. I love you .”

How did I doubt this? Him? What is wrong with me?

I know the answer to that. I’m afraid that this will be the end of us, and I’m trying to get away from it.

“If I lose you, it will break everything left in me,” I trail off, unable to come up with something that would impress on him how that would affect me. It’s an all-or-nothing deal. There’s no getting out of it.

“I know you’re it for me.” His confidence is unshakeable. “I’m scared, too. But one thing I have never seen in you is evil. You would never... I can’t even say it because the thought of someone accusing you like that makes me-”

His voice breaks with rage as his arms tighten around me.

I nod helplessly as the tears get thicker, strangling my voice.

“What happens now? If I stay with you. What if this keeps happening? My family. The hate. Everyone’s pain will be out there. I can’t stand that. I’ve been so proud of myself for keeping everyone’s secrets hidden away, and now I’ve outed them all. It’s all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t. I’ll take care of it, siren. I promise. I’ve already been in touch with my lawyers and everyone from the site. They’re all pissed off on your behalf. They aren’t upset with you. They’re worried because they can’t reach you. Not a single person blames you for this. You’re one of us, whether you like it or not. We all protect our own.”

I break down at that. It seems too good to be true. All I did was tattoo these people, and they welcomed me more than my own family. I doubt any of the Broussards care how I’m doing right now. I’m too disgusting for their high standards.

Poe’s voice is gritty as he clutches me close, desperately pressing kisses over my wet cheeks. “I have faith in us. No one will ever change my mind about you. Even you don’t have that power. It doesn’t stop the fears, though, does it? We’re going to have these demons for the rest of our lives. Voices giving us opinions we don’t need. I want to fight them with you, for you.”

He takes a shuddering breath and nuzzles against my ear to continue.

“We have pros and cons, siren. Every one of us. A million cons. I’m begging whoever will listen that you’ll find a million and one pros to stay with me. Just one to tip that scale in my favor.”

My sobs are loud and ugly. He holds me the entire time I fall apart without another word. He’s said all the right ones. He doesn’t need to say any more.