Chapter Ten #2
“I want to feel normal. Act normal. I see the way you and Diego are, and a part of me wants that. But there’s also a part of me that remembers what it feels like to be touched without my permission.
My brain hasn’t quite gotten the memo that it’s safe.
And anytime a guy looks at me or brushes up against me, I just can’t breathe.
Everything in me yanks on the emergency brake.
Being used like that…it made everything real, feel unsafe. ”
Maria’s lower lip wobbled. “It’ll get better.”
I offered her a thin smile. “I sure hope so.” I wasn’t really quite ready to believe that.
A waitress walked over with our food and about two seconds later, Diego and Jackson walked over.
Maria wiped at her eyes, banishing any tears that might have been there and gave Diego a huge smile.
His neck turned crimson as he pulled up a chair beside her.
He stole a fry, then whispered something in her ear that had her blushing too.
Jackson wouldn’t meet either of our eyes as he sat at the end of the table.
I glanced between him and my chicken wrap.
Had he heard any of that? God, I hope not.
Finally, he looked up and his eyes met mine.
A shudder ran through me at the steely gaze.
The rage in his gray eyes. What the fuck?
I frowned at him but he just shook his head and suddenly pushed back from the table and made his way over to the counter.
I watched him go but my attention was pulled from him by a hand clasping on my shoulder and I jerked from the sudden grip, frowning at the intrusion.
“Well if it isn’t Mamacita and Malibu, the prettiest and deadliest duo this side of the Mason-Dixon.” Dalton’s smile was broad and unwavering, even under the weight of the three frowns that were now aimed in his direction.
“Dude, shut up before you get stabbed with a fork.” Mac rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics before heading to join Jackson at the counter.
I hadn’t hung out with Mac too much. He had already graduated by the time I got to Redwood, but the times I had met him, I had been struck by just how similar he and his father were.
Unfazed, Dalton pulled up a chair beside me and asked, “So, how was shopping? Find what you wanted?”
Maria nodded eagerly, “Oh yeah, it only took me ten years but we found the perfect dresses.”
“Whatever you wear will be perfect.” Diego winked at Maria. She blushed again and Dalton feigned gagging while I hid a smile behind my drink. Jackson and Mac rejoined us a minute later with little numbers of their own.
The table dissolved into easy banter. When Momma Laverne came over with a basket of fries and an extra side of ranch no one had ordered, Dalton fixed her with a charming grin and I swear she rolled her eyes so hard they almost clattered on the tile.
“Boy, if you grin at me like that again, I’m telling your mama,” she said, setting the basket down with a thump.
Dalton pressed a hand to his chest. “Momma Laverne, I would never.”
“Mm-hmm. You’re a damn playah.” She turned to Mac. “And you. Quit letting him talk before he thinks. You the older one.”
Mac smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”
She shifted her gaze to Jackson, who was still pretending I didn’t exist. Her eyes narrowed just slightly. “And you,” she said, tapping the table near him. “If you keep scowling like that, you gonna scare my paying customers.”
Jackson blinked. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Don’t apologize. Fix it.”
Dalton snorted. Diego excused himself, and Mama Laverne’s eyes tracked him like she already knew something was about to go down.
She leaned in just slightly toward Maria. “You eating enough, baby?”
Maria nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. That little one need strength. And don’t you let none of these knuckleheads stress you out.” Her voice softened on that last part, protective without making a show of it.
She straightened, hands on hips, surveying the table like a general reviewing troops.
“Y’all act right. I ain’t breaking up no wrestling match in my dining room again.”
“That was one time,” Dalton muttered.
“Three,” she corrected.
Then she walked off, but not before giving me a look.
Not questioning. Not prying. Just… knowing.
Mac threw a fry at his brother, who caught it and promptly ate it.
Diego rejoined, sliding a cupcake towards Maria who was teasing Mac and trying to drag Jackson into the conversation.
She hadn’t yet noticed the cupcake, which had a flower on top and tiny square piece of paper.
I gently kicked her under the table and her eyes swung to mine, brow furrowed.
I looked pointedly at the table, where the cupcake sat, and she looked down.
Diego was trying to desperately appear casual, arms crossed on the table, but he was fidgeting like mad.
Mac elbowed his brother, who finally shut up and Jackson picked now as the perfect time to stare at me.
I ignored him, of course. I focused all my attention on Maria who was staring at the cupcake like it might bite her and blinking furiously.
She glanced at me again and I gave her a reassuring smile.
With a trembling hand, she reached for the note and just barely loud enough for the rest of us to here read it aloud: “Please let me take my two favorite girls to the dance.” She was crying in earnest now, which appeared to freak Diego out.
“Maria, honey, I think he was hoping for a yes or no…”
“Ye-eee-ss,” it was a broken reply, but a reply none the less. She turned and threw herself into Diego who was more than happy to wrap his arms around her.
I squirmed in my seat, not really loving the feel of being in a rom-com.
I gave in, glancing over at Jackson, who had stopped staring at me at some point and was fiddling with his phone.
Dalton whooped, and Mac clapped his friend on the back.
A few patrons smiled and shook their heads. My phone buzzed.
Jackson: “We need to talk.”
I glanced up at him and found him frowning at me.
Me: No.
His frown morphed into a glare and, maintaining eye contact, I put my phone back down on the table and ignored it when it buzzed again. And again. And again. Until I turned it off. He looked like he was going to implode. I abhorred pity and had vowed long ago to never attend another party.
Brushing it off, I asked Maria and Diego, “So, is it official? You two are a thing now?” Their answering smiles told me all I needed to know.
I nodded, reaching for a fry. I looked Diego in the eye and smiled.
“You know what’ll happen to you if you hurt her, right?
” I bit the fry in half, aggressively. Suggestively.
The look on his face told me he got the hint. And that I wasn’t kidding.
Dalton began laughing. “Shit, it’s about time. You’ve been ogling her since fucking sophomore year.”
Diego glared at him and Maria looked between the two, “Sophomore year? I didn’t move here until sophomore year.”
Jackson was intent on boring holes into my soul, the rest of the table apparently oblivious as Mac said, “Yeah, basically the second he saw you.”
“It was kinda sad, like a puppy.”
“And then he found out you weren’t single.”
“And he was a very sad, kicked puppy. Ain’t that right Jackson?”
Jackson looked over at Dalton when his name was said. “Yeah.”
I honestly wasn’t sure he knew what he was agreeing to—a sentiment the rest of the table apparently shared as Mac glanced between Jackson and I.
His blue eyes were astute, narrowed, as he got a read on the tension between the two of us.
Maria nudged me under the table, and I raised an eyebrow at her.
She was still in Diego’s arms but mouthed to me, “You good?”
I nodded before refocusing on my plate. I didn’t need a white knight. I sure as hell didn’t want one. If Jackson had heard something, he just needed to drop it. And that was that.
Maria hadn’t been in a hurry to leave and, by the time I had managed to wrest her from Diego’s hold, it was getting late.
We shouted goodbyes to Mama as we hustled out the door.
For once, I was glad to be home. Away from the weight of sharp as steel, gray eyes.
My mom greeted us as we made our way through the main living room.
Some medical drama was playing on the TV which meant my dad must be on call.
Mom didn’t dare watch it with him around lest he yell at the TV any time they got something wrong.
She smiled at us, pausing a dramatic scene. “Hey girls! Have fun?”
Maria smiled back at her, a decided glow on her tawny skin. “Yes! We found the most beautiful dresses. And guess what?”
Mom cocked her head, raising a carefully shaped eyebrow at her.
“Diego asked me to prom!”
Mom squealed, getting up from the couch and wrapping Maria in a hug.
Over the past few weeks, she had warmed up to my friend and had even begun treating Maria the way she deserved.
Like family. “Oh my goodness, sweetheart! That is just wonderful. The two of you will make such a lovely pair. I bet he cleans up well.” She winked at Maria, who giggled, before turning her attention to me. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you have a date?”
I scoffed. “In the words of the great Daya, this queen don’t need a king.” For a split second, I pictured Jackson in a tuxedo. He sure as hell would clean up nice too. Then I all but beat that picture out of my mind. No, ma’am. No way, no how.
Mom frowned at me and then sighed. The look of disappointment in her eyes pissed me off.
Sorry, Mommy Dearest. The perfect daughter you have is gone.
Get over it. For a second, I was sure she would say something.
But, like always, she simply changed the conversation to a less touchy topic.
“Maria, dear. You got mail today. I put it on your bed.”
I all but dragged Maria up the stairs, eager to get away from my mother and into the quiet of my bedroom. Maria headed to her room and I continued down the hall towards my sanctuary. I froze when Maria’s small scream shattered the air, spinning on my heels and running towards her.
She stood at the foot of the bed, a box of preserved roses scattered around her feet.
In her trembling hand, she held a small note and her tear-filled eyes met mine as I made my way towards her.
I took the note when she held it up to me and ground my teeth together so hard, I was surprised none of them broke.
Little dove, little dove. What am I to do with you? Are you really going to keep a baby from her father? I can’t let that slide. See you soon.
I tossed it to the floor with the roses and pulled Maria into my side. She was shaking. Terrified. I wasn’t going to lie—it scared me a little too. I wasn’t surprised he knew where she was. But to reach out like this? That mother-fucker. I held her tighter as her cries quieted.
“It’s going to be ok, Maria. I promise. I got you.”
Once I had gotten her calmed down, I cleaned up the roses and the note and took it all to the nearest fireplace.
Setting that shit on fire made me feel marginally better.
Seeing Maria like this…it sucked. For so many reasons.
I wanted to fix it, make it all better. I was scared and angry for my friend.
But, even if I would never admit it out loud, watching her go through this brought up painful memories.
Memories I had worked hard to bury deep inside.
I checked on her one last time and was surprised to find her asleep in bed.
It was a fitful rest, I’m sure. But a deep one brought on by the stress of pregnancy and shitty men.
Quietly, I closed the door to my room. My mom hadn’t even come upstairs, apparently not even the least bit alarmed by the commotion.
I laid in bed and, for a several minutes, just stared at my phone.
To do it, or not to do it?
Send the text?
Order some DoorDash, take a nap, and forget about it all?
Fuck it. I was sending the text.
Me: “Hey.”
He replied immediately.
Jackson: “Oh, so now you want to talk?”
I itched to say something smart.
Me: “Maria’s ex is still around. He left her a note here. Scared the shit of her.”
The three dots letting me know he was typing appeared and disappeared. After a couple minutes, his reply finally came through.
Jackson: “You guys ok?”
Me: “We’re fine. Just thought Diego would want to know. I don’t have his number.”
Jackson: “Yeah, he’s weird about giving it out.”
Me: “Oh.”
Yes, Holly. Very eloquent of you.
Jackson: “About what I heard…”
Me: “Don’t worry about it.”
Jackson: “Are you kidding?’
Me: “I’m serious, Jackson. Leave it.”
Jackson: “Fuck that, Malibu. Talk to me.”
Me: “Pass.”
Jackson: “Holly, let me help. I’m going insane here.”
Me: “I can’t Jackson. Ok? If you heard me, then you know. I just can’t. Please.”
Jackson: “I know what it’s like. Not trusting people. Not being able to open up. But even someone like you can’t do it alone.”
Me: “Someone like me?”
Jackson: “You’ve got a tongue like a knife. But I’ve met my share of monsters. You aren’t one. And you didn’t deserve that, Malibu. I want… idk. I want to make it better. Somehow.”
I wanted so badly to reply to him, but a little piece of my heart warned me it would end badly.
Even if the rest of my heart was screaming to let him in.
I shut my phone off and put it in the drawer of my nightstand.
Out of sight, out of mind. For now. I was better off alone.
Whether he liked it or not, alone was safe. Alone was easy. So alone I would stay.
? Jackson ?
I stared at her name on my screen for a long time, my fingers curling into a fist. Someone hurt her.
That’s why she’d moved? Someone had taken this…
this gorgeous firestorm of a girl, and had turned her cold.
Fury burned through every vein and I wanted to do something.
I couldn’t sit still. But then I froze as the thought occurred to me.
If it was public record, that wasn’t wrong…
right? Just information anyone could see.
My jaw ached from clenching as I pulled up my search engine and typed in her name.
It didn’t take long. Articles. So many goddamn articles.
My throat closed as I scrolled, bile rising higher with every headline.
My Malibu wasn’t the only one. That bastard had hurt others. And they’d let him walk.
I saw his name over and over again. Scott Lauren.
My vision tunneled, rage settling into something cold and certain.
Count your days, I thought, memorizing every detail of his face on the screen. Because if the law won’t finish it, I damn sure will. One day.