Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Isla
“Silence speaks when words can’t.” -Unknown.
One month later.
Everything changed so fast.
Overnight, my world turned upside down.
All because of the girl with cinnamon-colored freckles and bright red hair.
She’d been living at our house for the past month, leaving behind whatever shitty life she’d become accustomed to.
It was crazy the things she wasn’t used to.
Simple stuff like having her favorite drinks in the fridge or the snacks she seemed to enjoy in the pantry.
Her eyes would light up every time she found something new.
It was only after I insisted that she could eat whatever she wanted.
When I asked her for a list of her favorite foods and drinks, I quickly realized she was easy to please. Her list consisted of only three things: water, crackers, and peanut butter.
All cheap.
All filling.
No fuss to cook.
Which came in handy when you didn’t know where you’d be getting your next meal.
Those little things made me feel crazy, as if I already knew so much about her without her having to say a word to me. She still hadn’t spoken. The last thing I wanted to do was push her until she was ready, unlike Kraven.
Any chance he got, he’d openly show his disdain for her. He was never one to hold back, and she seemed to bring out the worst in him, or maybe he was just trying to piss me off and was well aware he could do it through acting out.
He was skipping school again. When he did happen to show up, he was acting up in class and getting detention for talking back.
He was staying out until all hours of the night and not telling me where he’d be or who he was with.
As it was, he barely answered my texts. Constantly throwing out that I wasn’t his parent, and he could do whatever the hell he wanted.
If it wasn’t for me dragging him to perform on the streets a few nights a week, I wouldn’t see him at all, and that was always the first sign he was up to no good. I was exhausted and barely sleeping, so that didn’t help.
Now, with another mouth to feed, I had to work extra hours. Not to mention, the property taxes were due, and I was late on the mortgage. I was working overtime, and something had to give before I stumbled flat on my face.
I resorted to what I’d always done to survive in moments like these, completely hating myself in the process.
Luckily, one less thing to worry about was that she was enrolled in an online program for school and only left the house to use the computer at the library for her classes.
Kraven had been on my ass to let him join one for the last two years, but he didn’t have the discipline she did.
I joined her one afternoon, immediately noticing her 3.
9 GPA on the screen. I wasn’t surprised in the least that she was smart.
Thankfully, the cops hadn’t come looking for her. Nobody had. Every day that went by didn’t lessen the anxiety and worry I still felt for her. Especially when I only knew her first name. It was the only thing she had shared with me.
I even kept the piece of paper on which she wrote it. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. I guess you could say I was a sentimental schmuck like that. And from our family photos she unexpectedly found in the kitchen drawer that evening, it simply proved my point.
Turning left at the light on my street bike, I remembered it as if it were yesterday and not three weeks ago.
“Whoa!” I jolted, chuckling as she came up behind me. “I’m going to need to put a bell on you or something. You’re as quiet as a mouse.”
She hid back a shy smile I’d gotten used to as her cheeks lightly flushed with the prettiest shade of pink, mixed with a bit of red that crept on her nose, enticing me with those damn cinnamon-colored freckles of hers.
Despite her vibrant, copper-red hair and striking green eyes, they were the only bursts of color against her pale skin. She was always dressed in black or gray clothing, with dark eye makeup accentuating her vivid, intense gaze.
You could definitely see her from a mile away; her gothic appearance was such a stark contrast to her delicate, natural features, making it hard to look away.
Which was interesting, considering she didn’t notice the effect she had on people.
How she’d govern a room by simply walking into it.
All eyes would gravitate toward her. Her presence was electric, charging the air around me when I was near her, but maybe it was because it was the only part of her I had since I still hadn’t heard her speak.
Nodding to the drawer next to her, I asked, “Can you get me a pen?” I needed to pay some more bills.
She reached for the drawer, opening it at the same time that I exclaimed, “No! Not that—”
It was too late.
She opened it.
There, in front of our eyes, was our past. A past I could no longer hide.
The pictures were from before our mother left. They were all scattered around in the drawer. However, the one I focused on was from the last Christmas we spent together. My parents stared proudly into the camera as they held us in their arms.
It was Christmas morning, and they weren’t loaded yet. They actually got us gifts that year too. We even put up a tree. It was one of the better memories I had as a child. They were few and far between.
As I grew older and understood how truly broken they were, I realized she already knew she was going to abandon us and was giving us a possible cherished memory that would eventually haunt us. What was supposed to be her honorable goodbye ended up being the nightmare she left behind.
“It’s my parents,” I simply stated when it wasn’t so simple at all.
Nothing about them was.
I hated them so much, though I also couldn’t bring myself to throw the photos away.
Trust me, I tried several times. Especially when my rage overpowered my grief.
Instead, I shoved it to the back of my mind with a rope, locking it there with a key I couldn’t throw away either.
It was tied around my neck like a noose.
When it started tightening, choking me, I’d rip open that drawer, slamming it shut just as quickly. Again, and again and again. The loud bangs from it being opened and shut never silenced the driving fury burning deep inside me.
The expression on her face quickly shifted into sadness for me, and I despised nothing more than the conflicted emotions I held on to for my parents than the look of pity when it was staring right at me.
“Don’t,” I warned in a harsh tone, needing to put an end to this.
She winced for a second as she slowly closed the drawer. Her shoulders hunched, bowing her head for a minute while the tense silence filled the small space between us.
I spent most of my time alone. As the responsible one, I didn’t have much free time, and I tried not to burden Kraven. He carried enough of his own.
The weight I dropped on her wasn’t fair.
In a much softer voice, I rasped, “Hey…”
I didn’t know what to say. She straightened, meeting my gaze, and in the blink of an eye, there was no longer pity in her stare.
This quiet resolve replaced it as she inhaled a steady, deep breath.
I watched her lips part, thinking I’d see a nod or the shake of her head.
Something to reaffirm the pain I couldn’t hide from her.
She was the first to break our entranced stillness, grabbing her notebook to write something in it. When she tore off the paper, handing it to me, it felt as if she was giving me a piece of herself before I even read what it said.
Isla.
One word.
Four letters.
Even her name was unique, not matching her Gothic exterior, making me think it was all part of her facade.
One thing was for sure.
One thing never changed.
She trusted me first, and I never let Kraven forget it.
We found this silent language between us, and at that moment, it meant more than words.
“Yo!” Gerald exclaimed, bringing me back to the present as I drove into his warehouse on the other side of town.
I played this role too well. Almost forgetting this wasn’t who I was, this was never who I was supposed to be. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself to survive the cards that were stacked against me.
“You’re late,” he addressed, standing by the entrance.
I kicked the stand on my bike, turning off the engine. Shifting my gaze to meet his, I challenged, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”
This wasn’t our first standoff, and it wouldn’t be our last. Gerald was always on a kick to prove he was the one in charge. He’d yet to figure out this wasn’t a way of life for me.
This was just a means to an end.
He cocked an eyebrow, looking me over for a second before he added, “You know… you’re lucky I like you.” He laughed me off.
His laugh didn’t lighten the truth.
I didn’t hesitate to remind him, “The only thing you like is that I sell your drugs.”
And that…
Was all that mattered to either of us.