2. Jessica
JESSICA
The shower helped work some of the kinks out of my stressed shoulders and calmed my nerves down a bit so that by the time I stepped out, my killer aura had dimmed.
Of course, my first thought was about the situation, but I know better than anyone that it would take at least a couple of weeks before that is no longer the case.
I’m not a machine; I do have feelings, but I’ve been raised to compartmentalize things in my head before making a move one way or another. I’d already made the toughest decision of all, which was walking away after spending three years of my precious life with that ass.
I know most people would weigh the pros and cons, not willing to just give up on something they’d invested time and effort in, but I’d much rather leave that failure in my rearview mirror than hang onto a dying, fragmented relationship just because. Sunk cost fallacy is for the birds.
I’m about ready to move on to brighter and better things when I’m good and ready. Damn, I should’ve driven a little bit further until I found a decent hotel with a mini bar, at least; this is cause for celebration.
I had barely pulled on my night clothes, which consisted of a tank and some shorts, when there was a knock at the door that had me jumping out of my skin.
No way! There’s no way he could’ve followed me here.
How? I snatched the door open, already making plans for my defense because this bitch was asking for it.
My mouth was open, and my arm raised, ready to knock his ass to the ground when I came up short. “Dad? How did you know where I was?”
The two people who spawned me walked past me into the room. Mom already had that sour look on her face, like she smelled something foul, and Dad was casing the joint as if expecting, I don’t know what.
“What world are you living in where I don’t know where you are when I need to?”
“How?” Why am I even asking?
“You’re the tech guru; you figure it out.”
“Mom?”
“Don’t look at me, I can’t even wipe my ass without him knowing. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine. I’m trying to figure out where I should go on holiday.”
“That’s my girl.” She smiled and brushed my hair over my shoulder before giving it a love pat.
“Good; it’s best if you’re out of the country for the next little while.” Dad was still looking around the room like he’d never seen one before, which might be true: the snob.
His words finally registered, and I knew I had to clear my head fast. “What do you mean by that, Dad? You’re not thinking of doing anything criminal, are you?” I don’t trust that smirk of his.
“Is that any way to talk to your father?”
“Did Dale show up at your house?”
“There’s no blood on me.” I snorted at his deadpan answer.
“Seriously, Dad, it’s no big deal. The relationship was on its last legs anyway.”
“It doesn’t matter. No one fucks with a Thornton and gets away with it. You should be glad it’s me and not your grandfather and great-uncles.”
“Dad, you wouldn’t. Dad, you can’t! Listen, it was all my fault, I promise.”
“How is it your fault that he cheated on you?”
“Um, I kinda wanted out. I saw a chance, and I took it.”
“Explain.” He dusted the bed for Covid and copped a squat on the edge before dragging Mom down on his lap. Can’t let his precious wife slum for two minutes.
“Before you start, what is this place?”
“It’s a motel, Dad! It’s the first one I came to, and I was tired and emotionally drained.”
“He needs his knees capped for that alone. Get your stuff; let’s go; you’re not staying here.” Well, I knew that was coming.
It wouldn’t help to argue because he wouldn’t hear me anyway, and Mom was already moving around the room, picking up the few things I’d left in the bathroom. My phone rang before I could get a word out. “That’ll be your sister.”
“Annabelle? Ah, dammit, Dad!”
“Hello!”
“I’m on my way to Mom and Dad’s. Be there.” She hung up the phone in my ear, and I felt real fear for the first time. Dad, I can swindle with crocodile tears and a pouty lip, but my Irish twin, no luck there.
“Who else did you tell?”
“Your brothers.”
“You didn’t…” These people are going to end up making me feel sorry for this idiot and, worse, having to protect him when all I want is to be done with this whole mess.
“Let’s go. You can tell me on the way how you did this. Better yet, we’ll wait ‘til we get home; that way, you only have to tell the story once.
“And after that, you’re going to leave it alone, right?”
“I’m not making any promises, and I’m not the one you have to worry about. Guess who’s over at Annabelle’s place.”
“Grandpa?” My heart sank when he grinned. Why couldn’t I have been born into a family that had some sense? This is all their fault. If they hadn’t raised us kids to fight dirty, none of this would’ve happened.
“Ride with your mother and me; I’ll have the driver follow us in your car.” He kissed my hair, “It’s gonna be okay, Princess.” Who said it wasn’t? I wish there was something I wanted because this is the kind of situation I could milk. But alas, I’m so spoilt I don’t need shit. Damn!
I was all but hustled out of the room and into the car downstairs after getting dressed again; I didn’t put up any kind of a fight for too many reasons to count, not least of all the fact that my sister would hunt me down and drag me home if I didn’t do exactly as she said.
The truth of the matter is, I’m more afraid now that she knows than I was before.
That tyrant has been running my ass ever since I left the womb.
I hadn’t thought this thing through completely, which I am only now seeing. You see, my plan was to share the funny story of how I maneuvered my unwanted ex into cheating on me, thereby giving me an easy out once the dust had cleared. We would’ve laughed and had a few chuckles before moving on.
What I stupidly overlooked was the fact that my family’s radar doesn’t work that way.
In every situation, Dad especially listens for only one thing: some kind of affront against one of us, meaning Mom and his kids.
He’d go to bat for others in the family as well, but not as hard as when it comes to his precious wife and kids.
It wouldn’t have mattered to him if I’d dragged Dale naked through Main Street at high noon; the fact that he thinks I am hurt is all that matters in his mind and the minds of the rest of these criminals I call family. We’re all wired a little differently, I guess you can say.
So, you see why, when I realized my ex’s work friend was getting a bit too close, instead of reacting like a normal human being and throat-knuckling her, I propelled that poor, unsuspecting girl into the arms of a certified deadbeat.
It’s because I was raised not to give a fuck, and maybe worst, not to take shit from anyone, no matter who.
Don’t get me wrong, Dad and the others didn’t teach us to start shit with anyone for any reason, but we sure were encouraged to end every fight that came our way. Our great uncles’ mantra is, ‘Don’t mess with anyone first, but if they mess with you, fight until we get there, we’re coming.’
When you’re raised by a father who has the hands of a surgeon and the heart of the most vicious mob boss, it can be complicated.
Add in Grandpa, who, as the story goes, didn’t know about Mom until she was a teenager, and his brothers, who had no kids of their own and were only too happy to have a niece and daughter to fawn over with their billions and you’ve got a recipe for something that could’ve gone way south.
By that, I mean if it hadn’t been for Mom’s stability and her soft heart, all of us might’ve turned out way different. Dad, Grandpa, and the Uncles aren’t exactly the law-abiding sorts if you know what I mean, and it gets worse when it comes to us kids.
On the one hand, we were coddled like spun gold, and on the other, I have to admit, we were raised like thugs.
When you’re six years old and a grown man trembles and sweats with fear while having a calm conversation with your father after mistakenly running over the bike you foolishly left in the street, you kinda start realizing some things, and I’ve always been smart.
Now, of all of us kids, Annabelle is most like him and the one we all have to adhere to at moments like this.
I’d like to pretend that I don’t know how she got that way, but since I’m a mere eleven months younger, I know plenty.
There wasn’t much difference between the two of us, except for my family’s archaic nobility system, where the eldest holds sway over everyone else in the line of succession.
The only difference is that most noble houses usually overlooked their female children, while my family went above and beyond to turn my sister into a cross between Cerberus and Queen Tiye. Not that any of us escaped being molded the same way, but there’s a difference that cannot be missed.
My brothers, who came after us girls, know better than to play that shit and were raised to defend us with their last breath, so there was no room for jealousy on their part.
There are five of us; like I said, Annabelle is the oldest at twenty-five, then me at twenty-four, almost twenty-five, and then there’s Hunter and Blade, the twins who are twenty-two, and the baby, Zade, who’s about to graduate from high school.
It's a bit embarrassing when you become an adult and realize that the ages of you and your siblings pretty much mean that your parents were freaks. What were? They still are, but I’m not touching that shit with a ten-foot lightsaber. Gross!
Anyhow, I’m rambling in my thoughts because I’m afraid of what is waiting for me back at the family estate.
As much as I despise Dale for being an ass, I don’t want his death on my conscience or his blood on my family’s hands.
To some, that may seem a bit exaggerated, but with this bunch, there’s no telling. I’ve heard stories.
Dad, Grandpa, and the uncles might be winding down in the eyes of some, but this generation of freaks, aka my siblings, are even worse if you ask me. I don’t count myself in that bunch; I’m more laid back and understanding.
My weapon of choice is my mind, while these young thugs are still in the Stone Age.
Only their clubs are Mac Tens and Damascus Steel.
“Dad, why are you being so quiet?” I sat in the back with Mom holding my hand while he drove because neither of them would accept that I was truly fine and did not need monitoring.
If I wanted Dale dead, I would be playing this shit up for all its worth, and he’d disappear by morning for sure.
But the fact of the matter is, though I was the one who made the way open wide for those two to cheat behind my back, I have plans on how to repay the disrespect that does not include my family’s brand of vigilante justice.
I fight my wars from behind a computer screen and have been since I found my love for them at the age of nine. That’s why I’m the odd one out in the family. Annabelle helps Mom run the businesses that were passed down to her by Grandpa when she came of age, back when we were kids.
The twins followed in Dad’s footsteps and went into medicine to save the world, which boggles my mind because they’d as soon kill you as look at you, and the baby is set to take over our other grandparents’ crap because the twins weren’t interested.
Me I wanted no part of sitting behind a desk crunching numbers and dealing with corporate wingnuts all day, and neither did the thought of playing in other people’s blood and guts appeal to me, eww.
But building something that could spit out facts in seconds makes my little heart sing like a contralto.
Dad hated it at first until he realized that I wasn’t just playing games and flitting my life away, and now he funds all of my endeavors so that I don’t have to use my allowance. Yes, I still get an allowance even though I make bank at my job.
Well, it’s not really an allowance; it’s a trust that was set up before I was even born.
When you have five elders, which would be Dad’s parents plus Grandpa and the uncles, fighting to give the most, you make out like a lark.
I don’t even know how rich I am and don’t really care because money doesn’t move me.
I can say that because I have some; that’s why I give most of that shit away when I find someone worthy.
That’s one of the things Dale hated about me, and one of the reasons my feelings for him started cooling. I didn’t just give a homeless person a meal; I’d get them a room somewhere while finding them a more permanent dwelling if they wanted to go that route.
Some of these people became my friends and were kept in my life because I saw fit to treat them like human beings, but he didn’t see it that way.
It dawned on me at some point that here was this prissy bitch who screamed at a papercut who thought he was more deserving of my money than the man or woman who fought in combat to keep me safe and was now on the streets through no fault of their own because their brains were fucked from the shit they saw that no human being should.
That’s when I started to really hate him; I hate selfishness. He didn’t even notice that I was pulling away this last year because I never let on that there was a change. You see, I’m not the arguing type, and my smiles can hide shit not even Grigori Yefimovich could come up with.
“I’m not quiet; I’m concentrating on the road.”
“What?” Oh, I forgot I’d asked him a question since he took so long to answer. “Mom, stop looking at me like that; I said I’m fine, I really am.” I could feel the heat of her gaze on the side of my face.
“That’s the problem, dear.”
“What do you mean?”
Dad looked at us in the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes. “It’s a known fact that when you get like this, there will be blood. We’re trying to contain this thing before you start spilling.”
“How many times do I have to tell you people? I’m not the problem.”
I waited for swift affirmation from these two, but none was forthcoming. I wonder since when my family started seeing me as the problem child?