Chapter 22 #2
Sometimes I think that what happened to my stepsister was a blessing for me. If it hadn’t hit so close to home, would I have ever cared? Would I have stood by, watching more people be taken advantage of in that room? I’d like to think I wouldn’t have, but I know for sure I won’t now.
I never gave two shits about Krisjen, but it’s hard not to admit that she’s probably a lot safer, married to Macon Jaeger. Safer in that respect anyway.
“She’s happy.” Krisjen smiles, her eyes light and hopeful. “Such a beautiful person, and I think the world needs to see it. Let her live her life.”
I turn away, taking a breath to think, but really, I don’t want her to see my face.
The irony doesn’t escape me. For years, I could only talk to my stepmother about Sophia, but I almost never did.
She was pleasant enough, but we never bonded, and after what happened, I resented her for not seeing it coming.
In the past few days, I’ve had more meaningful conversations about Sophia with the Jaegers than I have with the people I call family and friends.
I appreciate that Krisjen doesn’t want to change her. Doctors have tried and failed for years.
“She has episodes,” I say, pivoting around to face Krisjen again. “They’re rare, but if something triggers her, play ‘Once Upon a December’ on your phone as many times as possible until I can get there.”
Krisjen holds my eyes, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking before she finally nods once. “Okay.”
I’m sure this is another mistake, but I’ll deal with the consequences. It’ll be good for Sophia to be around women close to her age. Maybe it’ll bring her back to reality.
I don’t really want that, but it’s necessary. People need to evolve rather than staying stuck.
“I’m ready!” Sophia shouts from upstairs.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watch her jog down the stairs, one of those big smiles that parts the teeth spread across her face.
She leaps up to my side. “What time should I be back?”
I take in her favorite pair of tan bloomer shorts, and is that…?
I scowl, but only for a moment.
She’s wearing my shirt. One of my white dress shirts but with the collar open a couple of buttons and hanging so baggy and long it nearly covers her shorts.
I dart my gaze to Krisjen to see she’s wearing a similar outfit.
But I’m sure hers wasn’t six hundred dollars.
I swallow my grumble and tell her, “By three.”
They both acknowledge what I’ve said, and Sophia skips to the door, throwing it open. Krisjen follows and so do I.
“Clay!” Sophia waves her Harris Tweed newsboy cap. “I’ve got a hat, too!”
I peer through the doorway, noting Clay’s baseball cap to keep her hair tidy in the wind. She smiles at my stepsister, reaching over and opening the passenger door for her. Sophia sits right in front, already talking Clay’s ear off, and my chest swells so much it hurts. She looks happy.
“She’ll be fine,” Krisjen assures me.
I tip my gaze back down to her as she leaves the front step.
“The only part of you that was never safe in the Bay was your heart,” she says, slipping on her sunglasses.
I tip my chin up and look over her head as she leaves. She grabs the roll bar in the back of the truck and steps on the rear tire, climbing into the back of the vehicle. Clay never looks over at me.
In moments, they’re gone, and I close the door.
The silence of the house weighs heavier; even the ticking of the clocks and the subtle hum of the air conditioning seem to go dead silent.
The only part of you that was never safe in the Bay was your heart…
But the heart can bleed for years and never kill you. I bet Dallas wishes now that he’d broken my arm or cut off my hand rather than take me to bed back then.
Still, though…my beef was with him, and now it’s with him and the land.
I’ll never apologize to Liv and Clay for what I did in high school, but I do regret it.
I was young and reacting to the pain I was in, but if I’m not careful, someone’s behavior someday will be a reaction to me. I’m not a fan of cycles.
Heading into my father’s office, I sit at his desk and pull out my phone, dialing.
After three rings, the line picks up. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Dewitt, hi.” I smile naturally, hearing the familiar clicking of the buttons on his game controller. “It’s Ames.”
“Duh.”
My freshman year college roommate was worlds different from me and didn’t fit in at UPenn. He would’ve been better off at MIT or Caltech, but I quickly realized his usefulness when his midnight ramblings about game theory added a nice edge to my Behavioral Finance paper.
“You finally hosting me and about ten beautiful women for my personal viewing pleasure on your boat?” he teases.
“Ten?” I blurt out. “I’ve seen how you handle one.”
He tsks. “I was excited.”
Her hand wasn’t in his pants a minute, and he ejaculated.
I lean my elbow on my father’s desk. “I need a big favor, and I’ll owe you one.”
“Name it.”
I put him on speakerphone. “Your mother still owns Mad Rock?”
“And about fifteen other things,” he answers.
Good. I draw in a breath. “There’s a film in production now her company might be interested in,” I explain. “Can I email you the details?”
“Whenever you’re ready.” An explosion goes off in the background. “For someone who never asks for a favor, this must be serious.”
Honestly, I don’t know anything about Liv’s movie other than the occasional street closing to traffic for filming. But while I can say many things about the Jaegers, lazy wouldn’t be one of them. I have no doubt Liv is doing good work.
“I hope so,” I reply. “Talk later.”
“Okay.”
We hang up, and I gather some info from the town’s website and from the film’s social media pages.
I’m sure a press packet of sorts would be more in order, but then she’ll know I’m trying to find her distribution.
I’d rather not. I’m simply doing this for myself, because I owe her and if this all creates a diversion for that family, that might serve me well, too.
Dallas might think he can fuck me into docility like he probably does everyone else, but my plans are still very much in place. Every time I think I’m softening or find myself wishing he was in bed with me, like I wanted this morning, I remember the sight of someone else’s hands on him.
That summer night so long ago plays behind my eyes like a movie.
Him ignoring me all week. Not texting me back.
When the weekend rolled around, I stuck to the plan of going over to the Bay to let him chase me home, but I found him with a girl slung over his shoulder instead.
A shirtless guy walked with him as they carried her back to his house.
I remember watching Dallas grab the guy by his belt and pull him in, his tongue looking like it loved the taste of his mouth.
They disappeared inside, and it was one of many times over the next year that I’d run into him while he was in the midst of landing his next fuck.
There’s almost something enjoyable about the fracturing of your heart from things like that. Intense emotional stimulation triggers adrenaline.
And when something is traumatic, it means we’re about to change.
I’m not yet the person I want to be, but I’m close. Or I was a few weeks ago.
Instead of getting closer, I feel as if I’m farther away. I’d planned on letting him seduce me. I banked on it, in fact. Why shouldn’t I take what I want from him?
I just didn’t expect the interferences. Him joining me in the Wolfe Room.
Sophia damn near worshipping him and already getting attached to that family.
And me confiding in him about her. I had intended to keep family business private, but I was taken aback by the whole episode.
In that moment in his classroom last night, I thought I was facing the one other person who would stand between her and any animal on the planet. Mammal or man.
I keep letting down my guard.
He can’t be trusted, though. Not ever. When it comes down to it, he’ll always choose himself.
Rising, I leave the office and climb the stairs to take a shower. Micah Hearst is serving dinner at six, and I have work to do until then.