by JA Huss
“You would think that,” I say. “You would think those tears were about you because you’re a self-centered jerk. You think the whole world revolves around you. I did cry after we had sex. Every single time. But I just want to make this very clear. I wasn’t crying over you, Tony. I was crying for me. I was disgusted with myself for having sex with a man who threw me away like trash.”
“I didn’t throw you away!”
“Is that the only part you heard?” I laugh. “Why am I surprised? I shouldn’t be. You never loved me, Tony. And you didn’t come here to hate-fuck me out of your head. The fact that you tried to pull that bullshit on me—again—just proves what an asshole you are.”
“What are you talking about?” He bellows. “I certainly didn’t come here to… woo you!”
“Woo me?” I guffaw. I’m talking full-on throw-my-head-back guffaw straight up at the ceiling. “Shut the fuck up, Tony Dumas.” Then I look at Soshee. Her eyes go wide, like she’s not sure she wants my full attention. “Look, Soshee, we probably got off on the wrong foot because you were in like with Vann and he was in love with me this whole time.” Vann grins pretty big at that. “And I get it. I totally understand what it feels like to be in like with someone who doesn’t feel the same way back.” I glance at Tony as exhibit A. “And Vann Vaughn is a fucking catch and a half, OK? He is. This man?” I point to Vann. “He’s the real deal. He’s everything you want in a boyfriend. He’s considerate, he’s honest, he’s thoughtful, and yeah, he’s hot as fuck. But he’s more than that. Vann is patient and even though he comes from a family of tatted-up bikers who won their now falling-down mansion in a poker game fifty years ago, they stick together. They have each other’s back. Do you know there’s a whole wall on the second floor of their house that chronicles fifty years of family?”
I point at Tony. “This one? No. Nuh-uh. Run, Soshee. Run away from this one as fast as you can. Because he’s an illusion. He’s not patient. He’s not considerate. He’s not honest and even though he’s nice to look at, there’s a whole lot of ugly hiding underneath.”
“You don’t even know me,” Tony objects. “You’ve been gone for eight years. I come from a good family. We definitely have each other’s backs! So fuck you—”
“No. Fuck you, Tony. You ripped my life apart. You stole my memories. Hell, you stole my identity. And you come here, calling me Rosalinda? Fuck. You. I haven’t been Rosalie for a long time now. I am Belinda. And you can accept that or not, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not confused about who I am, you are. You call me Rosalinda like this is some great big joke. Some funny ha-ha shit that makes a good story that you and your brother can laugh about. And you know what the really fucked-up part is? I believed your lie. For almost a year after I got here, I believed that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time when I saw your little smuggling job go down and lost my life as I knew it. But not anymore.” I shake my head. “It wasn’t bad luck. I wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because I’m right where I’m supposed to be. Here. In Fort Collins, Colorado. With Vann Vaughn. And you… you’re the lost one here, Tony. You’re the one out of place. You’re the one who has no idea who he is, not me.”
No one says anything for almost a full minute. We just stare at each other as the echo of my words becomes real and the truth of what I just said sinks in.
I let out a long, tired breath. But you know what? There are no more angry tears running down my cheeks. Because I feel just fine.
Tony Dumas will never ever steal my tears the way he stole my life.
Never again.
Vann looks at me and nods. “I think we’re done here.”
And then he takes me by the hand and leads me to the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - TONY
I just stand there in the ensuing silence after her final words. I know Soshee is looking at me. I want to believe that she understands that there are two sides to every story and that she will not let Belinda’s outburst cloud what we just started building together.
But one look at her… that’s all it takes to see the disappointment.
“Soshee,” I say. Belinda and Vann are nearly through the apartment door.
But Belinda turns back. “Are you fucking serious right now? You’re going to plead your case to Soshee?” Belinda huffs. “Why am I not surprised?”
“What are you talking—“ But I stop. I stop because it feels like I’ve been using this same, lame excuse on repeat since Belinda reappeared. And there has to be a reason for that, doesn’t there?
Belinda is looking at me like I just strangled a puppy. Like I am filth on the bottom of her shoe. Like I am a truly horrible person.
And when I look at Soshee, I can tell she’s falling for it.
It’s probably not even what Belinda just said to me, either. It’s probably just… true.
Belinda certainly thinks it to be true. She hates me. That’s hate in her eyes.
I wasn’t saving her, I realize. That’s not why I had her sent away.
I was saving me. Not even from the FBI or anything so dramatic like what we have going on right now.
I was saving me from… her.
I wanted Rosalie gone. She was a pest. An inconvenience. A reminder of that weird tear fetish thing—that, turns out, wasn’t about me to begin with.
I feel sick over that misunderstanding. Like maybe I am a truly horrible person.
I made Rosalie disappear.
Literally.
She’s right. I stole her life. And then when… oh, shit. Madam Ameci’s words come back to me. I hear them in my head like she’s standing right in front of me. It’s not what has been said, Mr. Dumas. It’s what hasn’t been said.
And suddenly the past three months of sleepless nights makes sense.
I know why I’m here and I know what I’m doing.
I turn back to Belinda and hold up a finger. “Give me one minute.”
“What?” she sneers.
“I’m not done. But before I get to you, I need to say something to her.”
“Oh!” She looks up at Vann. “Fuck him. Let’s go.”
But Vann, surprisingly, shakes his head no. “Give him his minute, toots.”
I turn away from Belinda’s incredulous look and gather my thoughts as I face Soshee. “Look,” I say, walking towards her so I can take her hands in mine. “I just need to say one thing to you before I do anything else. Your mom was right. It’s about what I didn’t say. And I’m going to get to that in a second. But I need you to know this first, OK? I need you to hear me.” I stop and point at Belinda. “What I did to her”—I shake my head—“I won’t do that to you. That’s all I want to say. I promise. I will never do that to anyone again.”
“Ah-ha!” Belinda says. “So you admit you were a dick.”
“Quiet, Belinda,” Vann says. “He’s about to tell you the one thing you’ve been waiting eight long years for. Let the man do his thing.”
“I haven’t been waiting for—”
But Vann cups a hand around her mouth and silences her. He smiles at me. And when he does that, I can totally see why everyone finds him so fucking charming. “Go ahead, Tony. Get it all out, man. You’re gonna feel so much better when you do.”
I turn back to Soshee and sigh. “I get it now.”
She smiles at me and nods. “Keep going.”
“What I did to her?” I nod my head at Belinda. “It was horrible. She’s right. I kicked her out of her own home and had her sent to a strange place with a new name. I stole her identity. And I didn’t even think twice about it. And what I need you to understand right now, before I turn and fix that, is… I will never do that to you. I will never make that mistake again. I will never throw someone I love out like trash.”
I turn to Belinda and Vann removes his hand from her mouth so she can have her say too. But she stays quiet.
“I’m sorry, Belinda.” And as soon as the words come out, I feel it. Relief.
This must be what re
ligious people feel when they are baptized, I guess. Because my sin—it doesn’t go away. It will never go away, but I stop carrying the weight of it.
“When you showed up on my street, Belinda, my life stopped. I’m talking I couldn’t fucking eat, or sleep, or think straight. And there was so much anger inside me. At first it was because I couldn’t believe you were there. I had sent you away. I had gotten rid of you. And now you were back?” I shake my head. “After all the turbulence of our relationship, when you left—and I’m so ashamed to say this out loud to you right now, but it needs to be said—all I felt was relief. I was so happy you were gone.”
Belinda’s face goes blank. And I almost think she will cry again. But she doesn’t. She just folds her arms across her chest.
And that’s not enough, I realize. Those words aren’t nearly enough to keep the weight of my sin from creeping back inside me.
“I didn’t understand those feelings. So I came here to figure it out, I guess.”
“To hate-fuck me out of your head,” Belinda says. “Just like the old days.”
“You’re right. That’s why I came. But I didn’t hate you, Belinda. I have never hated you. For fuck’s sake. You’re so damn cute. And mouthy. And pink. You’re goddamn adorable, OK? There’s no possible way I could hate you. I just…” I let out a long, resigned sigh. “I just… hate who I am with you.”
She pouts her lips. Looks pretty sad, too.
“It’s not you. It’s not even me, OK? It’s just…” I point to me, then her, then back at me. “Us, Rosalie. It’s just us. We’re not good together. We’ve never been good together. And I blamed you for that. And I’m so fucking sorry. You didn’t deserve what I did to you. And I know there’s no way to take that back and make it better, but I’m gonna try to do that right now anyway. So I just want you to know… I’m truly fucking sorry, Belinda.”
Then I turn to Soshee. “And I know I’ve said it twice now, but I really need you to see that I’m being honest here, Sosh. Because you and I? You and I are like… her and him.” I nod my head towards Vann and Belinda. “Does that make sense?”
Soshee sniffles a little, then laughs as she nods. “Yeah. It kinda does.”
“We, you guys”—I look at Vann and Belinda—“we make sense.” They just stare at me. “Am I wrong? Because if I’m wrong, just say so and I’ll disappear and never bother anyone in this room again. But the four of us are connected in ways you two don’t even know about yet.”
“Oh, my God, that’s true!” Soshee says. “Did you know I’m related to him?”
“What?” Belinda laughs.
I scowl at Soshee. “That’s not true.”
“It so is! I’m his cousin-in-law!”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No. You’re not.”
“What the hell is happening?” Vann says.
“His sister married my cousin.” Soshee beams. “I’m his sister’s brother-in-law’s cousin! And did you guys know those people at the Crappy Coffee Shop share a little dog and they’re like… bad FBI or something?”
“What the hell is she talking about?” Vann says.
“I think you’d better sit for this,” Soshee says, bustling towards the kitchen. “In fact, I think we need alcohol. Lots of alcohol. And frittelle. Lots of those too. Because Tony’s right. We are good together.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - BELINDA
Tony starts talking while Soshee starts placing bottles of Bucked Up beer on the coffee table in front of her tattered velvet couch and then serves up a whole bunch of powdery-sugary frittelle on an antique silver plate. I’m a little distracted by her apartment, because she was right when she said it might be a little over the top.
But I decide I like it. I like her version of over-the-top. I never hated Soshee. I just didn’t get why she was all invested in a man who didn’t feel the same way back.
However, one could say the same thing about Vann. And even though it didn’t work out for Soshee, it did work out for him.
So it’s about hope, I guess.
No. Not hope. Because that implies you’re at the mercy of something or someone. Hope definitely conjures up feelings of desperation in my book.
So I think maybe it’s more about belief. Yeah. Much better word than hope.
Tony explains what he and Soshee were up to yesterday while Vann and I were on our first date.
“A dog?” Vann asks.
“I don’t understand how you didn’t notice that the people who run the Crappy Coffee Shop all walk the same dog.”
“Uh…” Vann looks at me, then back at Tony. “I don’t really understand how you did. I mean, you’ve been in town for what, a week?”
“About there,” Tony says. “But it wasn’t just my advanced skills in observation.”
I roll my eyes.
“You said it yourself. Soshee here has the best view in Fort Collins.”
“We stalked you on our second date,” Soshee says.
“And the first date, too.” Tony laughs.
“And the third!”
“No,” Tony says. “The third date was the trip to meet your mom.”
“Oh, right. My bad.”
“What the fuck is happening here?” Vann asks.
“Sorry,” Tony says. “We were sitting up here. At that table right there, to be specific.”
“And Tony noticed there was a discrepancy in the dog walkers,” Soshee adds, completing his thought.
“They just seemed weird to me, ya know?” Tony says. “I see this cute college-age girl walking that dog one day, and then I see some suit dude walking him the next. And I think they were using that dog as an excuse to stalk your house.”
“My house?” Vann says.
“Yup,” Soshee adds. “So we think there’s something fishy about the Crappy Coffee Shop.”
Vann thinks about this for a moment. “They are closed a lot. And they’re not friendly. I got coffee there a few times when they first opened, trying to be a good business neighbor. But they were sorta rude. So fuck it. Life is too short to buy coffee from rude people when I can charm sexy Rook at the Fort Collins Theater coffee shop every morning. I still want to be supportive of the downtown businesses. So I go in there for sandwiches.”
He winks at me so I know he’s just being Vann. Which I get.
“They do serve really crappy coffee too. It’s like they don’t even care,” Soshee says.
“They definitely don’t fit in. You might be on to something. And there’s that little fact that this place is a haven for witnesses.”
“Tell me more about that,” Tony says.
“Well.” Vann stands up and walks over to the window. We all get up and follow him. He leans into it a little and points down College Avenue. “I know they hire new-in-town randos at Big City Burrito because I’m tight with the cashier, Carla. She used to give my brother-in-law Spencer line-dancing lessons back in the day. She told me they have a contract with the FBI and they hire two or three people a year in there. And then there’s Renee at the Cat Call Club. Spencer was her bodyguard while she worked the club back when I was a teenager. And she told me they hire out-of-town randos seven or eight times a year too. So.” He shrugs. “Who are all these random people the FBI needs to find jobs for, if not other witnesses?”
“And why do they all come here?” Tony asks. He looks at me. “When you got sent here, it wasn’t my idea. The FBI made that call.”
“You can’t trust the FBI around here. Believe me. Spencer and his friends got caught up in some shit when I was a kid and they all got busted.”
Soshee points at Vann. “I totally remember that. There was gonna be a trial? Or something?”
“Never happened,” Vann says. “Important people died and Spencer’s friends made sure the FBI took the heat. One of them was going to go to prison, but they killed him.”
“Spencer killed him?”
“No,” Vann says. Then he looks over his shoulder. Like he’s afraid someone might be watchi
ng us from way up here. “That’s the other top-secret part about this place. My…” He hesitates. “What to call her?”
“Who?” Soshee says.
“Sasha Aston. She’s like… I don’t know. Sorta like a sister because she’s Spencer’s best friend’s adopted daughter. It’s complicated. But she and these other people—who may or may not be honorarily related to me as well—they’re what’s called… Company.”
“Company?” Tony says. “What Company?”
“You know that Chek dude we met down in Key West when your whole kid-smuggling thing was about to go off the rails?”
“Creepy Chek and Wendy?” Tony says. “I’ll never forget those two creepy fucks. What about them?”
“Well, they’re Company too. I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to know this, and Johnny Boston would probably pay me a visit if any of you let on that I do know this.” He pauses to eyeball Soshee. “Since, apparently, you’re Zach Boston’s sister.”
“I don’t even know the guy, Vann,” Soshee says. “I’m not going to rat you out. I only know of him because I was snooping in my mom’s stuff when we lived in the trailer park and found some old letters from my father. They mentioned I had a brother, so I snooped some more and found Zach. But we’ve never even met.”
“Well, my sort-of sister, Sasha Aston, is one of those Company people. She’s like Wendy. And her handler was a dude called James Fenici. And he rolled into town just before that trial was about to start and took care of shit. So the FBI dude who was gonna go down for the things Spencer and his friends actually did do, well, Fenici poisoned him. Bam. Whole thing went away overnight.”
“Or not,” Tony says. “Because they’re still here.”
“Not those people,” Vann says. “I was only seventeen when this all happened. These people now are all new.”
“Wait,” I say, finally feeling like this convo has something to do with me. “Seventeen? That was the year I showed up.”
Vann points at me. “Exactly. That’s why I took such notice of you. One moment there is no angel called Belinda in my town. And then there was.” He grins at me and I melt a little. Not just because of that grin. But… this really is real. It really does feel like destiny.
