by Charity B.
Rage is the emotion I am clinging to for dear life because the only other option available is despondency. Part of me knows I have to move on from this, while a much larger part knows that it’s impossible because I’m no longer the same as I was before I met her. What exactly am I supposed to move on to? Mindlessly fucking any remotely hot woman I can find? Or even better, meet a normal girl and have normal sex in our normal relationship? That’s no longer an option for me. It was such a stupid move bringing her into this house. Everywhere I look, I see her. It’s as if she left her imprint on everything she touched.
The screen light is annoyingly bright as I open my laptop and pull up the Google search bar. Though I have no idea how to go about speaking to someone in prison, right now her father seems like the best option for information.
I type in ‘Visiting a California inmate’ and click on the government site for the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. My disappointment flares when I see it isn’t even possible to see him without an official C.D.C.R. form that he has to sign. He has to allow my visitation and I can’t even get the form without him sending it to me personally. I have no idea if he will be open to meeting with me. He doesn’t know who I am, and I’m sure it’s safe to assume he’s less than friendly. Not to mention, he’s been incarcerated since 2004 so he may not know much. It’s still a door and I need to try to open it. I’m hesitant on what to write so I keep it simple:
Mr. Winters,
My name is Alexander Sørensen and I am writing to ask for your signature on the C.D.C.R. form 106. I’m aware that you do not know who I am and my request for visitation is unexpected. My reason for wanting to speak with you involves questions concerning your daughter, Tavin. If you would consider this meeting and adding me to your list, please include the form in your response.
Thank you,
Alexander Sørensen
I send it to my printer and enter the address into my phone. I’ll drop it at the post office tomorrow. Closing my laptop, I roll my eyes as a playful growl vibrates by my feet. I glare at her and she tilts her head and whines.
First things first. This dog is gone in the morning.
Sunday, June 7th
Knock. Knock.
I lift my heavy eyes and my stomach is snarly, making me queasy as I sit up. The door opens and Sasha walks in with two cups of coffee.
“Butterscotch creamer and a shit ton of sugar–just how you like it.”
I take the mug as I try to make myself smile. “Thank you.”
She sets down her coffee and carries my bag to the closet to hang up my clothes. “Come on, let’s try to look on the sunny side, okay? I know things with Alex ended…well, terribly, but at least you’re free of Logan. Doesn’t that count for something?”
I almost laugh. She knows the whole story and she still doesn’t get it. “Free? You think I’m free?” I push off the blankets and set my coffee on the nightstand. “I don’t know what that even means, I just know this sure as heck isn’t it. He will find me, Sasha. Sooner or later he always gets what’s his.”
She slides a hanger into my pastel pink dress with the lacy, peter-pan collar. “Look, since you refuse to let me tell my brother, I’m all you’ve got.” She turns around and walks to the bed, placing her hands on the foot board as she gives me a look that reminds me of him. “I need you to try to trust me. At least a little. Give me some time to figure this out and come up with an actual plan. Until then, you are free of him, Tavin.”
I fall back on the bed and huff. She doesn’t understand and it’s frustrating me. It’s not that I don’t want this ‘plan’ to work out. I wish it would, it just won’t. If I go back home on my own without him having to come look for me, it will be better for me and Toben. The sooner I do, the less the punishment will be. If he has to come find me… who knows what he will do?
She sits on the bed next to me and crosses her legs. “It doesn’t make sense to me why you won’t tell Alex. I don’t see how you can’t trust him after everything he’s done for you. He can protect you better than I can, and he’s smart. He could at least think of something.”
I can’t believe she called him smart. She would never do that to his face.
Groaning, I sit up and lean against the headboard. “This isn’t about trusting him. It’s about his safety. He can’t know. You shouldn’t know. I put you in danger by telling you, and that was selfish of me. I’m very sorry for that.”
I lean over for my coffee and take a sip. It’s so good. I lick the butterscotch from my lips and look at Sasha. Her eyes are glossy as she wraps her arm around me and rests her head on my shoulder.
“Your whole situation is so fucked up.” She lifts her head to face me. “We need to consider the police. This is too big. It’s what I should have done in the first place.”
I almost spill my coffee as I grab her arm, so I set it down.
“What? No! The police will make things so much worse. And even if they weren’t bad, Logan has people everywhere working for him. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, there’s nowhere to escape him.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, he’s full of shit. There’s no way this guy has that much pull. Besides, who told you the police are bad?” Her nose scrunches as she shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter right now. Listen,” she holds my hand. “I’m going to ask you this once and I want you to be completely honest. I won’t be mad with your answer, okay?” I nod to her because I don’t know where this is going. “Do you want to go back? Besides everything with Toben, do you want to go back to that life?”
Of course not, but Toben is the biggest part of the life she’s referring to. I shake my head as she releases my hand.
“No.”
“Alright, then believe me when I say we’ll figure out a way to make sure you don’t ever have to.” Leaning back on one hand, she uses the other to comb back her hair. “Now, I’m still not fully comprehending all of this, so we won’t get the cops involved. At least not yet. However,” I glare at her. Why is there always a ‘however’? “You just said it’s not want you want, so if you ever go back to Logan, I’m going to tell Alex. All of it.”
My mouth drops open and I can’t believe she’s blackmailing me. “What about Toben? I need to talk to him.”
Her head drops back as she sighs. “Well, you can’t call him, and we just established you can’t go home, so unless you have some other way, I don’t see how to do that.”
A thought suddenly pops into my head and it’s too funny for me to push my smile down. Groaning, she looks at me sideways.
“What’s that look for?”
“I can’t go to my house, but you can.” I point to her and her eyebrows raise. “Just because Toben knows who you are, doesn’t mean Logan does. Toben always has random girls over, so Logan wouldn’t think a thing of it if you show up acting like you’re there for a hook up.”
Her unease is a vapor seeping into me as she asks, “Is Logan going to be there?”
“I don’t know.”
She drops her hands on the bed and dramatically slouches her shoulders as she pretends to be grumpy with me. “You owe me big time.”
I wrap my arms around her, almost knocking her over. “Thank you, Sasha.”
Her laugh is so soft. As I release her, she flips her hair. “Yeah, yeah, just be grateful he’s good looking or this would never be believable.”
She hasn’t been gone long. Still, I hate being alone. Crippling fear, sadness, and regret wash over me, choking me like a noose. I want to peel the skin from my bones like string cheese, dig my fingers into my eyes and feel the tendons pop as I tear them from my skull.
My mind begins to consider the reality of what’s possible, because of my actions. How did I ever think I could get away with this? If I go back now, then Sasha will tell Lex, and the outcome of that is not one I want to think about. Not going back means Logan might kill Toben, and he’s suffering as much as anyone. Thinking of the things he
might have done to him because of this, makes me want to scream so loud my throat bleeds.
You asked for this.
All this damage I caused, in less than a month. My actions have destroyed mine and Toben’s already distorted lives, as well as Lex’s and Sasha’s.
I want you gone.
Those are the last words I’ll ever hear in Alexander’s beautifully unique voice. My insides twist so tight I hope it rips me in half. While of course I detest that he saw me with Logan, there’s a part of me that’s oddly relieved he did. He saw me for what I am.
A dirty, broken toy.
This feeling that I have inside of me, it’s more than missing him. I can’t place this emotion, this specific agony in my chest. I feel like I’ve been mauled and ripped open. More torn apart than my flesh could ever be. I can’t do this; I can’t feel like this anymore. I need something. Anything.
I know from already checking, that the cabinet in the hallway bathroom doesn’t have anything useful, so I sneak into Sasha’s bedroom and into her bathroom. My reflection stares back at me, but I refuse to look myself in the eye, as I pop open the medicine cabinet. It’s full of bottles and tubes and not a single one will get me high.
Going back into the living room, I turn on the TV and mindlessly stare into a fictional world of cartoon people and talking animals.
I’ve been sitting here zoned out for so long, I barely hear it. Click. My vision clears as my bloody, torn up fingers come into focus. Jumping off the couch, I stare at the door and watch as it opens.
Toben’s voice pushes the oxygen back into my lungs. “Did you have to kiss me? No one was even around.”
Sasha scoffs. “Like you didn’t love it. Besides, you said yourself you didn’t know that for sure. I had to sell it, just in case.”
He limps as he walks over to me and I ache at his wince. “Oh, God. He hurt you.”
This is because of you, you selfish bitch.
His arms are already around me as he pulls me to his chest. Our fingers lace and we connect the physical remains of our memories.
“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. We both know I’ve had worse, and believe me, I got off easy.” Our foreheads press together as his chopped-up breathing pushes small puffs of air onto my face. He cups my cheek and whispers, “What are you doing?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Just come home,” he pleads. “He’ll forgive you, eventually. Then everything can go back to the way it’s supposed to be.”
Sasha slams the door making us jump apart. “How could you want her to go back? You’re supposed to be her friend!”
He spins around and has her against the wall so fast, I don’t see him move until it’s done.
“Don’t talk about things you know nothing about. You aren’t capable of understanding, so if you want to help, then back the fuck off, bitch.”
“Toben!” I yell at him.
She doesn’t seem bothered as she pushes herself right back in his face. “You’re right. I can’t pretend to get it, but you’re both desensitized.” She waves her hand in the air. “Blind.”
He tightens his fists and shakes his head. “You fucking people. You have no idea who you’re dealing with. Logan James is more ruthless and powerful than you can imagine.”
The color in Sasha’s face slips away as she lets herself step back against the wall. “Whoa…Logan James? As in Rissa Logan James?”
What the heck is a Rissa?
“You know who he is?” His steps falter as he backs away from her.
Sasha keeps her distance as she steps around him to the living area. “Who the hell doesn’t? Especially in this town. There isn’t a kitchen in the country that doesn’t have at least one Rissa product in it.” Her forehead is scrunched with her frown as she looks at me. “Not to mention my father is his fucking chairman.” Bouncing on the cushion, she drops herself on the couch. “I can’t believe this.”
“Now do you get it?” He’s pointing at me while glaring at her. “He will find her. He’ll follow me and he probably has men out looking for her right now. When he realizes she’s here, because I fucking promise you, he will. He’ll come for her. And if he has to do that…” He clicks his tongue at her. “Well, let’s just say you don’t want that.”
She wipes her hands over her face, and I wish she didn’t always remind me of Alexander. “All we need is enough time to get her out of the city, possibly the state. Then she can start a new life somewhere.”
“No motherfucking way. That’s not an option,” he barks.
“How do you know he won’t still kill her if she goes back?” Sasha yells.
“I don’t. What I do know, is it will be a million times better than if he has to drag her there.”
They argue between each other deciding my fate. Why does everyone get to choose how my life is lived, besides me? I am overwhelmed and sad and scared and they are driving me crazy! I take a deep breath so my voice is louder than theirs.
“Hey!” They back off each other and look at me. “Does anybody care what I want?”
The sun shines over my closed eyes causing me to groan as I sit up. Glancing down at the foot of the bed, I see Blind Mag cocking her head to the side.
“Don’t look at me that way, you furry little shit. You’re out of here. Today.”
She whines like she actually understands. I climb out of bed and it’s as if standing causes the anger to wash over the sorrow. For the first time, I wish I had allowed myself to care for more girls. Maybe if I would have had my heart broken a few times already, this wouldn’t be so intense.
I walk into the hall to go to my home gym and the damn dog starts barking. The further I walk away from her, the shriller it becomes.
“What the hell is your problem?”
She runs towards the top of the stairs where she continues the ear-piercing bark until I walk toward her. I follow her to the kitchen, where she paws at her empty bowl, making it flip over.
I guess I can’t let the fucking thing starve, so I give her some food and she immediately starts scarfing it down.
I roll my eyes and open the back door so she can piss before walking back upstairs. It’s been weeks since I’ve been to Benny’s Boxing Gym and I know I should go, I just can’t bear to listen to the twenty questions he’s bound to ask.
Even with my knuckles cut and bruised, I don’t feel a thing as I take my pain and anger out on the bag. I have no appetite to speak of, so, I skip breakfast and hop in the Alfa, driving the three and a half miles to the post office to drop the letter to Brian Winters in the mailbox.
Afterwards, I stop at Shadoebox Hardware for supplies. Her mural in the closet needs to be covered and I don’t feel like waiting to hire someone. Wallpaper is a cleaner option than paint and doesn’t sound that hard, so as soon as I get home, I grab my new bucket of tools and go upstairs to get this over with.
Giving the drawing one last look, I have a moment of weakness and consider snapping a photo before I realize how pathetic that is. The stupid dog comes in as I’m wetting the paper. It’s not quite as simple as I originally thought. I get water everywhere and I swear Blind Mag glares at me before shaking out her coat. Cursing under my breath, I try to smooth out all the little bumps that are making my life hell.
I finally hang the last strip and back out of the closet to look at my work. Well, that looks like shit. Fuck it, I’ll get someone to fix it later. At least the drawing is out of sight for now.
I let out the dog before going into the garage to search for something to pack up Tavin’s things. I find a fairly large cardboard box, so I grab it, along with a roll of packing tape.
On my way back upstairs, I notice the bottle of booze on the counter. Not bothering with a glass, I bring it with me.
Opening the door to her old room, I sigh before taking a swig. The room is trashed and I don’t expect Cara Jo to clean it up. What am I going to do with all this stuff? I look at her clothes strewn across the floor. Every piece has a memo
ry attached. I sit on the carpet, nursing my bottle as I fold each item and place them in the box.
The gown from the fundraiser, the blue dress from the art fair, the little black dress… She looked so beautiful in all these things. Sasha says people feel lovely in lovely things and now I understand what she means. Tavin would always glow a little brighter and smile a little bigger when she got dressed up. Groaning, I pull another drink from the bottle. This has to get easier. I just pray I fall out as fast as I fell in.
The painting I bought her is a beacon, from its place on the wall. That definitely needs to go. She loved it, and now it makes more sense as to why. It appears beautiful and sweet, when it’s really full of darkness and anguish. Just like her. Pushing myself off the floor, I lift the painting from the wall hook and place it in the box.
I look around the room to see what else there is, as I slide the necklace off the dresser and shove it in my pocket. When I pick up her phone to toss it in the box, my thumb presses the unlock button. I’m already this far, so I tap on the envelope icon to open her messages and the only ones are from me. Same with the call log. She doesn’t have an email setup or any apps downloaded so I hit the camera icon for videos. There’s only one, and like an idiot I click on it, even though I know exactly what it is.
My dresser flashes onto the screen and when her raspy voice floats through the room, my stomach flutters at the sound. Oh, he would die. She laughs to herself and the camera shifts while she moves about. My former self walks into the room, filling the camera frame. I know what she’s about to say and I smile in spite of myself.
Let’s make a movie. Undo your shirt, but leave it on so I can see your abs.
So are you the director of our little flick?
Yup.
Then I’m the videographer.
That’s when I take the phone and her smiling face comes into view. My eyes strain and my throat burns at the sight of her.
