Chapter 12 #2
Help—I huff. That’s all they've done for me is help. Since day one, the moment I walked out of my ma’s house and left for college he’s helped me.
This day has been a long time in the making, his unusual assistance supporting me while I played chess with my life.
Manipulating every decision, taking Nadia into consideration with each so our lives perfectly aligned when she was ready. It’s not fair to them.
We planned for this, for her dad to find out or show up at some point—now or ten years down the road.
Playing his fucking games, aiming to control every aspect of her life, emotionally and mentally wreck her all for his own personal gain.
The problem lies in my inability to keep calm.
I tried, I really did, water off the back.
I tried feigning nonchalance, so Gene wouldn’t knife himself under my skin and lodge deep into my heart by taking Nadia away, but he did anyway.
I thought I was prepared for this but now I know I’m not—it’s going to take much more to keep my head above water now that we have seen how well I hold my composure.
Zap and Wes are needed now more than ever—they’re the support system I have, might not be the only one I’ve got, but they’re here.
Ma would have my back. She fucking loves Nadia nearly as much as I do, and if going to bat for my girl was what it took, my mom would be next to me with her chancla, ready to protect Nadia.
Much can’t be said for her shitty-ass friends who did nothing but stand by and watch.
As a matter of fact…
Wrenching heavily to the left, I see the three of them huddling next to Ivy’s car. She’s filing her nails while Wren chews hers and Oliver fiddles with an MP3 player. Worthless, absolutely pointless, selfish, humans.
What fizzling rage remained bursts into another wrath filled shit-storm.
Crossing the open space, I’m standing before Ivy before my brain can catch up, slapping her nail file out of her hand.
Oliver looks up, Wren ceases her anxious chewing, but Ivy?
The bitch says nothing, those slowly-dying eyes of hers meet mine and I see it.
“You called him.” Not a question, or accusation, a revelation.
This frigid whore is so jealous of Nadia she willingly sabotaged someone who she supposedly cares for.
Someone who’s protected all three of them in the past, now she stares at me unapologetically as her imps hang off her like skin tags when she speaks up.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit, Ivy! You called Gene and told him where Nadia was.”
Puzzle pieces snap loudly into place. How long we’ve been gone, how we’ve been here for maybe five minutes before Gene showed up—then it dawns on me, he followed us into the field. Ivy wanted him to see us together and when Nadia climbed out of my car, he got the confirmation he needed.
“Think you’re clever, don’t you?” I accuse, closing the space where she can barely see anyone past me and I’m filling every one of her fucking senses. Threatening, boding, and ready to choke the life out of her.
“Do you think this is how you win me, Ivy? I’ve seen you flutter those clumpy eyelashes at me, twirl your fake-ass blonde hair around your finger, in hopes I’ll notice you.
Truth is, I have. You’ve hovered in my peripherals for years like an annoying gnat that’s just slightly too fast for me to kill. ”
She straightens, her face turning red but she doesn’t look away, confident in her silence and aware her peons have no control or say in this situation. If it comes to my boys versus them, I’ll drag Ivy across this field and fling her cold body into a ditch for what she’s done.
Leaning in, my breath and barely contained disgust whisper next to her fake-diamond pierced ear.
“It will never be you.”
Ivy goes to speak but I catch her by the throat and shove her back against the car, forcing the air from her lungs. Squeezing her airway to show her exactly how it feels to have someone she thought was safe hold her life in their hands.
“This is what’s going to happen, so listen closely you fucking shrew.
You and your so-called groupies are going to fade out of Nadia’s life.
It will start small, missed messages, forgetting to return calls—you’ll make it look like you all got too busy with your lives.
Then after a few years you’ll disappear in one way or another—by accident, by force… it doesn’t matter to me.”
I can’t help but squeeze her throat tighter when she squirms, the weight of her hands finding my chest to push when she discovers oxygen depletes quickly.
She fights harder, expending her energy with the same level of fear I witnessed in Nadia’s eyes flaring in her own.
Still, I hold on. I’m not above choking her the hell out and letting the dogs here rough her up if they want to.
She deserves to taste this, to see what not having control looks like.
“You don’t deserve Nadia, she’s too good for you.
She’s smart, engaging, she sets me on fire in ways you never would have.
Nadia caged my heart next to hers which makes you fucking invisible.
You are nothing to me and will be nothing to her in the end—mark my words, Ivy.
There will come a day where you’re as dead to Nadia as you are to me. ”
Shoving her away, I use her neck as the foundation of the force, cracking the back of her head against the window with a low hollow thud.
Ivy gasps, Oliver and Wren rush to her side to render aid, but I don’t give a flying fuck.
Fuck her, fuck them. They will all get what’s coming to them and I’ll sell my fucking soul to make sure it happens.
Have you ever been so angry you feel your cells vibrating?
Or completely numb to your surroundings you practically forget where you’re currently existing and need to run off of autopilot?
That’s exactly where I’m at. Logical thinking is nonexistent while standing here, the laid back and softer side of me has taken the backseat in my head while my violence shifts through the motions.
“Let’s go.” I announce. Zap and Wes don’t argue, they don’t make a peep when we climb into Delinquent and leave this sorry excuse for a party.
There are only two things in this world right now that will calm me down and one is probably climbing into her bed and crying her eyes out.
The other is the road. Rubber on pavement, the smell of rich-burning fuel, and a checkered flag at the end of a finish line.
The guys hold on as I take my anger out on the drive, whipping deep into the bend of curves and flying through empty four-way stop signs. It’s still too early for anyone to be out on a Saturday morning, which I’m thankful for, makes it easier getting to Wes’s parents where I can drop them off.
I need to be alone, to cycle through every overwhelming emotion that refuses to release me and the sooner I can get there, the better.
Pulling up to the house, they step out and shut the door. Zap leans over, placing his hands on the window seal trying to give me some bullshit words of encouragement that fall on deaf ears.
“Go home and clear your head, man. You have a race today. I know you’re eating yourself alive right now but you can’t be like this come Monday. Nadia’s going to need you as a whole man, not a pissed off one.”
“Fuck off.” I bite back.
“Gladly, but seriously. Go home and see your ma. We will see you later. Love you, man.”
“Love you too.”
Not the manliest response but I do, I love him.
He’s such a good dude. None of us should be dealing with the shit that we are but he has a kid to think about, not my ass.
Leaning over, we bump knuckles then I’m pulling off again.
My mom will be up, expecting me to already be in bed and waking up to her homemade breakfast when the delicious scents waft through the trailer.
As soon as I pull up, I see her peeking out of the kitchen window and catch her brows furrowing.
Part of me can’t move from where I was with Nadia last, but I know keeping my mom waiting isn’t going to speed up time.
The shower is calling my name, along with a full plate of breakfast, and my bed.
I need to relax, rest, and get ready for the race I’ve waited months for.
When I step inside, the door shuts behind me as I start moving through the motions of toeing off my boots and shrugging out of my jacket.
Chorizo is sizzling along with bacon which assaults my senses–my stomach grumbles with hunger for the inviting aroma.
I miss being here, coming home to someone who thinks I’ve hung the moon and then some of the stars.
Bootless, I move through the small living room with hand me down sofas and a coffee table with one leg slightly too short, then into the kitchen right as she sets down my plate with the tell-tale clank of the ceramic.
I stop, looking at the food then over to her, my rock and strength wrapped in one loving package.
Within seconds, I fall apart. She rushes to me and pulls me down to her shorter height, hugging me tight to shush my tears.
“I know, mi hijo. I know.”