Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
Shiloh
We’d all just finished breakfast, and I was waiting for Enoch to finish in the shower so I could jump in.
Eden and Seb were like a perfect family with little Ruthie, and I couldn’t help but stare at them in awe and jealousy.
Because one day I really wanted that, and I wasn’t excited about the prospect of that being with Theodore.
I shook out of my thoughts when Seb sunk onto the couch beside me.
“So…how’s life?”
I snorted and shook my head. “Really?”
“What? Just making conversation. We haven’t gotten a chance to really hang out alone.”
I sighed, giving him a soft smile. “Yeah. I know. Sorry.”
He raised his arm and let me lean against him in a half-hug. “I feel like there’s an elephant in the room, but I don’t wanna bring it up if it’s just going to make you cry.”
“You mean Javier?”
“Yeah.”
I sighed and nodded against his shoulder.
“You know, I’ve been wanting to ask you actually. You said that you were there when I got diagnosed and that it didn’t happen until I was two.”
“Yeah. You were just under two years old when your dad got full custody of you because of the accident.”
I sat up straight, pulling away so that I could gawk at him. “The fuck are you talking about?”
“Woah,” he held up his hands in a placating manner. “I’m really confused now. Your dad or Javi never told you how you came to live with them?”
“No, pendejo. I’ve been living with them since birth. There’s no story to tell.”
Sebastian cocked his head to the side, staring intently at my face like he was weighing his next words carefully.
“Why don’t I just tell you what I know to be true, and we go from there?”
I motioned for him to go on, and he readjusted like he was settling in to narrate some long-ass story.
“Well, when you were born your mom was still in high school. She met your dad at her job at the DQ. From what Javier told me, she had full custody of you when you were born and had refused your dad the right to see you except a handful of times. I guess, unknown to your dad at the time, she had been kicked out by her mom when she found out she was pregnant and was living with friends. I’m not really sure on all the details, but for the first year your dad hardly saw you.
I think she was having some mental health problems that were only exacerbated by drug abuse.
She had gotten picked up by the police and you were left with your dad for the first time.
I think you were around eighteen months.
When your mom was released, she promised your dad she’d get clean and things were okay for a while I guess, until… ”
“What?”
“She tried to kill you, Shiloh.”
I stared at him, speechless. I finally collected my thoughts even to question him. “What’d she do?”
“Javi had to stop your mom from drowning you. She was just holding your face under the scalding tap. He tried to get her stop and managed to call 911. I guess that spooked her enough that she’d turned off the water and left the house.
Javi pulled you out of the tub, but by the time EMS got there… well, you had to be resuscitated.”
The image sent my stomach clenching, and I was beginning to sweat. “So…so, my eyes are like this because she tried to drown me?”
“Yeah. It caused scalds. They didn’t know if you were even going to recover your vision.
You were in the ICU for almost a month I think while they were waiting for your eyelids and corneas to heal.
I guess the scalds triggered some sort of autoimmune response, which they labeled whatever it is you called it.
But you weren’t born with the allergy to your tears.
Whatever tissue damage occurred from the scalds, it’s why your body reacts the way it does.
Why your eyes are all hazy looking and why you keep building scar tissue.
I think your body is just trying to protect itself. ”
He paused for a moment, and I tried to process everything he was saying.
“It’s a miracle you can see and don’t have any visible scarring on your face.
They had to graft your entire left eyelid, and I honestly can’t even tell.
” I ran my finger over my left eyelid like I might be able to feel some sort of scar that I hadn’t realized was there in the last sixteen years.
I mean, maybe my eyelid crease felt a little pronounced, but…
damn. “I guess being so little gave you an advantage for your skin to heal so well.”
I stood to pace the room, picking at one of the scabs under my sleeve.
What in the actual fuck is going on right now?
Have I stepped into some alternate reality?
How in the actual fuck would I have never known this?
Surely it would have been mentioned at a doctor’s appointment in the last sixteen years for me to have picked up on the fact that my own fucking mother did this to me. Right?!
“So, what happened to my mom?”
“As far as I know, she was caught and sent to a prison out west. You’d have to ask your dad if he’s still in contact with her.”
“What about my grandparents, her parents? I was always told she was just a loner drug addict who got mixed up with my dad.”
“I dunno. Sorry. I mean, I’d be happy to help you look into it, if you want.”
I barely had a second to wrap my brain around the life-altering information before Dan walked into the room, interrupting the little bubble of insanity I was tucked inside.
“Hey, you got a second?”
The man seriously had the worst timing. I had no idea what the hell he was even doing here. He’d driven home last night with Shelby, Esty and Jae.
“Um, actually Dan, it’s probably not a great time to talk.” Sebastian said.
When they both glanced at me, I raised my hands, “Sorry. I’ll just give y’all some privacy.”
“No, Shiloh, I actually wanted to talk to you.” Dan said.
“Um, is there something wrong?” I asked, trying to maintain a neutral expression.
They had been acting weird since yesterday, sharing glances and I caught them looking at me periodically. And now I knew why. They wanted to ‘talk’. Jesus fucking hell, could things get any more fucking fucked-up today? Goddammit. I do not need this right now!
Not for the first time, nor the second or third this week, I found myself fantasizing about taking that permanent vacation from the living.
“No, no. Nothing’s wrong, just wanted to talk for a minute.” Dan said with a smile like he wasn’t about to try and interrogate me.
I sucked my teeth, a bitter taste in my mouth as I realized Sebastian must have told Dan something about me or Javi.
Fuck.
“What about?” I asked, trying to remain calm.
Sebastian stared at me. The answer was written on his face. The motherfucking idiot. Why does he have to be so damn innocent and think the police in this town can actually fucking do anything?
It didn’t fucking matter if Dan was good police or not, he couldn’t help and involving him would only get us all fucking hurt. Sebastian was acting like a fucking idiot, and I was going to punch him in the dick if he had officially made his concerns known to the police. Fuck!
Dan cleared his throat and began to speak. “Listen, why don’t you take a seat.”
I eyed them both warily but took the empty space next to Sebastian while Dan sat on the edge of the coffee table. The silence was making my stomach hurt as I tried to find a way to get out of this conversation.
“What is this about?” I asked, unable to take their stares any longer.
“I understand that your brother passed away a couple months ago and you’re living alone now with your dad. Right?”
Passed away. I clenched my fists. Like my brother’s death was peaceful and timely. What a fucking dick.
I nodded, waiting to see where Dan was going with this conversation.
“Look,” Seb started, “I know how things were when we were kids, Shy. And I don’t think you should be staying with him alone.”
I narrowed my eyes at Sebastian, my jaw aching with the pressure of restraining myself from strangling him. “What do you mean?”
“The drugs and the violence. And the kind of people that hang around. I don’t want you around them anymore.”
Fuck! Is he talking about Los Siete? Did he know his uncle and father were involved? Did he know what Javier was doing? He left before Javi was initiated, but maybe Javi had shared some of his secrets with Seb. I swallowed my anger and put on a confused expression.
“Look. I’m not really sure what you thought, or think is going on at home, but we do not need the police involved.
Seriously, I’m good. Or I will be. I’m just…
grieving, okay? I don’t need the police.
Please,” I said with a look of desperation at Sebastian.
“Seb, you know my dad is undocumented. We cannot have the police involved.”
“It doesn’t need to be a police matter, Shiloh. We just want to make sure that you’re safe. That you’re okay.” Dan said gently.
Fuck, is this guy for real? Is he genuinely concerned about me?
“But your dad is still using though, right?” Sebastian asked.
I shrugged. “Has been practically my whole life. Doesn’t mean I need you to get involved. I’ve got a roof over my head, food in the fridge. There’s nothing that warrants your concern.”
“It does though. Especially when you’re having panic attacks and hurting yourself.
” Sebastian’s eyes became glassy with tears, and I moved my hands out of reach when he tried to hold them.
The hell? Dan told Seb about my panic attack?
“I’m worried about you. About your mental health.
Your brother killed himself, Shiloh. That’s traumatic for anyone but especially a seventeen-year-old who’s already lived through enough trauma for seven lifetimes. ”
“Fight like hell.”