by Jo Raven
“We have a meeting with the Anholts,” my father says into the phone, his voice crisp. “Be here at four this afternoon. We’ll go together.”
“No.” I scan the school yard, looking for a blond head. “Anything else you wanted?”
“This is an important business transaction, Tessa.” He sounds mildly irritated. Exasperated. “I’m asking you to be there because this is about your future.”
“To sign my contract of slavery to the Anholts?” Anger still courses through me, though its heat is starting to fade. “To Sean?”
“You’re not giving him a chance.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I gave him plenty of chances. And my personal life is none of your business, Dad.”
“Of course it is. You’re my daughter.”
“Whatever.” Why’s Miles late? “I’ve got to go.”
“Tessa. Unless you do as you’re told, I promise you’ll regret it.” His voice is rising now. What, he’s finally ruffled? “I’m not paying a cent more for an ungrateful brat such as you.”
I knew this was coming. “You said so already.”
“I mean it, Tessa.”
“Well, you know what?” I finally spot Miles and wave at him. I see his face brighten up. “Screw you, Dad. I’ll be fine without your help. Don’t call me again.”
As I disconnect, I think for the first time maybe it’s true. I will be fine, without his money and demands, without the pressure to be someone I’m not. Audrey has been telling me all along I should get a job, move out, become independent. If I’d listened to her, I’d have saved myself a lot of heartache.
Though, if I’d listened to her, I’d never spoken to Dylan again. I wouldn’t have waited, wouldn’t have hoped… wouldn’t have slept with him again.
And where did that get me? Stupid, Tessa. Stupidity on repeat. I can’t sleep with him again. For him it’s just a physical release, unlike it is for me.
Not that it wasn’t good. God. My body tightens at the memory. No, the reason I stayed, I remind myself as Miles climbs into the jeep and beams at me, is to fight back and gain my freedom, my self-esteem. To find myself again.
If Dylan’s brothers need my help—if Dylan needs my help—I’ll help them. I’m making a difference in their lives, and this makes me feel strong. Needed. Worthy. It makes me feel damn good, better than I’ve felt about myself in a very long time.
I’m not doing it for Dylan. I’m doing it for me. I’m taking charge of my life.
Miles interrupts my thought when he enters the jeep. He looks good. The bruises he sported when I first met him are fading now, and his smile comes more easily. He’s so cute.
“How’s Teo today?” I ask as we set off.
“Better.” Miles grins. “I didn’t know if you were coming today.”
“I called Dylan this morning and let him know.”
He’d sounded surprised. Wary. And as always, tired.
“Dylan won’t be home now,” Miles says. “And Charlie is looking after Teo. Can we go get ice cream?”
“You should eat lunch first.”
He sticks his tongue out at me. “You’re as bad as Dylan.”
But he grins again, and somehow it doesn’t sound so bad. It probably means I’m doing something right. Getting the hang of being around kids.
No idea why that should matter to me, but it does. Probably comes with fighting the whole “she’s-a-pampered-princess” thing Dylan seems so set on believing.
The day is gray and miserable. It starts to rain as we approach the house. I think of the cold and damp inside and shiver.
I park and turn to Miles. “Here we are.”
“You like Dylan, don’t you?” Miles gives me a dead serious look. It looks out of place on his young face, way too old and wise. He reminds me so much of Dylan it’s crazy.
“We’re friends.”
“More than that. You want to be with him like… Like Mom and Dad used to be.”
I swallow past a knot in my throat. “Miles…”
“And he wants to be with you.”
I close my eyes and gather my strength. “I don’t think he does.”
“I told you he has your photo on his wall.”
“That’s not enough.” Even if it’s true, which I don’t know… Could it be true?
“So you’ll leave. Like Mom did.”
I open my eyes and stare at him in horror. “No, of course not.” Oh God, he has tears in his eyes. I reach for him, and he lets me hold him.
“Dylan thinks that, too,” Miles mumbles. “He thinks you’ll leave. I hear him talk in his sleep sometimes. He thinks everyone will leave.”
He does?
“Miles…” I stroke his hair. “I’ll be here for you. Whatever happens between Dylan and me won’t change that.” I pull back to look at his tear-streaked face and smile. “Tell you what. I’ll give you my cell phone number. That way you can always call me and talk, and we can have ice cream. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
As he nods, I wonder what has come over me and what the hell I’m doing. My safest bet would be to run away from this family as fast as I can, put as much distance between myself and Dylan as possible.
But I instead I write down my number and give it to Miles. I can’t skip town now. Not when I’ve made up my mind to stay and fight for myself.
***
As I have no doubt my father will go through with his threat to cut my funding, I try to come up with a plan, in spite of my jumbled thoughts. After some nail biting, I call Mr. Walker and ask for details regarding the social/archaeology project. I explain that, due to personal and unforeseen circumstances, I’m looking for a paying job, and ask if that’s what he’s offering.
Mr. Walker assures me the offer is still open and that a small salary can be arranged. Although curiosity is evident in his voice, he doesn’t ask me directly what is going on—why the daughter of Jonas Leon, of Leon & Perez, is in need of a salary. He also tells me I can start next week.
Elated, I thank him and try to calculate how much I need to live, a concern I never had before in my life. My father is right in this, at least: I’ve never had to worry about money. Until now.
By my calculations, the amount Mr. Walker mentioned is too low. I’ll need a second job.
And another place to stay. Dad won’t let me keep this super-expensive apartment, although I hope he’ll at least let me keep the car. Audrey and Erin could help me find a cheap place. They have experience apartment hunting, whereas mine is zero. On so many matters.
I’m wary, intimidated as I’ve never had to worry about making ends meet until now. On the other hand, I feel excited, exhilarated. At nineteen, I’ll be taking care of myself for the first time. A bit old to be weaned.
But better late than never.
The car that looks just like Sean’s is parked outside my building. My stomach twists into a knot when I see it, but nobody is sitting inside.
Reassured, I flash my card, and the bar lifts, letting me into the underground parking lot. I park and take the elevator, thinking about what Miles said. That Dylan has my photo on his wall.
This is so confusing. He saves me, kisses me, then leaves. He comes back, makes love to me, asks me not to leave town and then breaks my heart again. He makes love to me on his kitchen counter, blows my mind away, asks me to stay the night, but it means nothing to him.
Why is he doing this?
Maybe skipping town wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
The elevator doors ding open, and I step out, fishing for my key in my purse, when I notice someone standing by my door.
The air whooshes out of my lungs. I take a step back, but the elevator doors have already closed, and the carriage has gone back down. Panic sends the world spinning.
Sean smirks and walks deliberately toward me. “Look who finally decided to come home.”
“What are you doing here? Who let you in?” I frantically press the button, calling the elevator back.
�
��Your father gave me the card to enter.” He pulls me away from the elevator and presses me into the wall, trapping me. “And the okay.”
“Get off me.” I push, but he doesn’t budge. My breathing is coming in short gasps. “Damn you, Sean, leave me alone!”
“Stop lying to yourself,” he whispers in my ear, and I desperately push and squirm, trying to escape his hold. “You want me.”
“I don’t want you. Why are you doing this?”
“I like to watch you struggle.” He’s still whispering, like imparting a secret. “I like to watch you run about, like a mouse inside a maze, when there’s no way out.”
No way out. My life does seem like a maze, full of false routes, dead-ends and painful shocks. What am I missing? Why can’t I escape?
“You want to please your parents,” Sean goes on, his hand running through my hair, an intimate gesture. “You want to give in to me, don’t you? Say it.”
I think I may throw up. “Stop it. Let me go.”
“You want me. You just don’t want to accept it.” His hand fists in my hair and pulls my head back. It hurts. “I’m a great catch. Lots of women want me. But you… You’re fighting me. You’re afraid of me. It’s exciting.”
“You’re sick,” I whisper.
“Tessa… When we’re married, our families will be so powerful, you can’t imagine.”
“I don’t care.”
“Of course you do. Money. Power. All this,” he nods at our surroundings, “has to be paid for, somehow. This is how you pay for it. You do as I say, and you stop resisting me, or I’ll be angry, and you don’t want that, do you?”
His grip on my hair is excruciating, and his hold on my mind is even stronger. Memories of him forcing himself on me crowd my thoughts, tighten around me like a vise. My father’s face and Sean’s merge, their voices blend. The memories become the long road of my failure to please anyone, to amount to something.
“Sean…”
“Be a good girl,” he sneers, “and do as you’re told. Daddy will love you.”
This is it. This is the answer. My mistake in all of this is that I’ve been begging for scraps, thinking my refusal would be enough, both for my dad and Sean. Thinking they’d let me go.
I thought my refusal would be enough for me—to convince me to sever all bonds, to give up on the silly hope my parents would change their minds, change their nature.
But I was wrong on both accounts. My father is a mad wolf, my mother a dumb sheep, and I have to save myself. I was wrong to think I could do this on my own.
“Say you want me. Say it. You’ve wanted me all along.” His breath is hot on my cheek, smelling of the cigars he smokes and alcohol. “Say it, before I make you cry and the neighbors know what a little slut you are for punishment.”
I don’t care if the neighbors know. I don’t care about the money. And I certainly don’t care about Sean. “Let me go.”
“That’s not what I want to hear.”
I draw a long breath in my lungs and scream. “Let me go! Let me go, you bastard. Help!” I kick at his shins. “Let me go.”
He shifts, his eyes widening for a moment, and I knee him between the legs. He howls, and I rush back to the elevator. I press the button, and miracle of miracles, the elevator is still here. I step inside, my legs shaking so badly I fear they might fold at any moment, and punch the button for the underground parking lot.
As the doors begin to close, ever so slowly, I see Sean coming at me. I hit the button again and again and fumble in my purse for the pepper spray. When he puts his hand between the closing doors, I finally locate the can and lift it, turn the nozzle toward him and press, releasing the contents in his face.
He cries out and backs away, clawing at his eyes, and I jab viciously at the button again. My whole body is shaking, and when the doors finally close and the descent starts, I lean back and let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a sob and hysterical laughter. The can falls from my nerveless fingers, crashing to the floor, and I lean on the wall, fighting not to fold down.
I’m out of the maze. And I’m not coming back, not as long as Sean is out there. As long as I remember that my parents sold me out, that Sean wants to hurt me, that no matter how hard I try to please these people they don’t care about me, the maze becomes an illusion, and I’m free.
***
Night has fallen. As I drive out of my building, I pull out my cell to call Audrey, but somehow when I look down, I find I’ve automatically dialed another number—one that has always been at the top of my list for years.
Shit. I slow down, squinting at my cell, trying to see the disconnect button, but before I do, the call goes through.
I bring the cell to my ear as I turn out of the avenue, my eyes on the rearview mirror, still sick with fear. Would Sean follow me?
“Tess?” Dylan rumbles in my ear. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” I blurt out, “it’s not.”
And that encompasses everything in my life right now.
“Where are you?” His voice sharpens, and he sounds like he’s walking. “What happened?”
“Sean...” My voice is choked, and I swallow hard to clear it. “Sean was there.”
“There? Where the fuck is there?”
“At my apartment. He was waiting for me.” I swerve to avoid a parked car. My hand is shaking so bad I think I may drop the phone. “My dad gave him the card to enter the building.” My voice is growing thick again. Tears burn my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. Won’t break down now.
“Tess, listen to me. Are you driving? Go someplace safe, with lots of people, and I’ll come get you.”
It sounds good. It sounds wonderful, in fact, too good, and I know it’s a bad idea.
“Tess? Are you still there?”
His deep voice is like a warm blanket settling over me, and I draw a long breath.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. I didn’t mean to call you.” God, my teeth are chattering. “It was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” He pauses, and I hear the sound of a car honk. “Tess, listen… I said I’ll come get you. Just tell me where you are.”
I’m shaking hard now. My heart is booming in my chest. “I don’t want you to come get me. I was going to call Audrey. I’ll be okay. No need to worry about me now.”
Not now. Not after all this time.
“Tess, please find a place with lots of people. A café. Go inside, stay safe and wait for me.”
Wait for me.
“I can’t, Dylan. I’m sorry.”
I disconnect, cutting off his cursing, and keep on driving as I call Audrey. I tell her about Sean. She sounds remarkably calm, but her voice is strained. I tell her I’m close to the Starbucks on Main Street, and she tells me to stop there, that she and Asher will come pick me up.
Wait for me.
I swallow hysterical laughter as I maneuver the car into a parking space right outside the cafe. I put the cell away as I hurry inside and order a hot chocolate, choose a table close to the bar and try not to think. Not to think of Dylan and how relieved I was to hear his voice, to hear he’d drop everything and come get me.
Can’t wait any longer.
***
“Do you need anything?” Asher is standing awkwardly at the door of the living room, his pale wolf-eyes concerned. “Some water? A tea?”
He’s sweet, but I shake my head where I’m sitting rigidly on their sofa. “I’m fine, really. Thank you.”
“You’re so not fine.” Audrey marches up and down the room, waving her hands in the air, her fiery red curls bouncing on her back. “That asshole, that pervert…”
A shudder goes through me, and it’s as if something unlocks inside me, and every limb starts to shake.
Audrey makes a small noise of distress and comes to plop next to me on the worn beige cushions. “What did he do to you, Tess? That summer? You always say you’ll tell me another time, but this guy, this Sean, he’s mental!” Her white, freckled hands twist i
n her lap. Her green eyes are shiny with tears.
“Aud…” I glance involuntarily at Asher, who seems more uncomfortable than ever with the way this conversation is heading. I feel uneasy, too. I really like Ash, but I don’t feel like spilling my guts in front of him. “Another time maybe, I…”
Audrey shocks me when she puts her face in her hands and starts to cry. “You’re my best friend,” she blurts out between hiccupping sobs. “Oh God…”
Blindly I reach out and hug her to me, let her cry on my sweater. “You’re my best friend, too.” I seek Asher’s gaze over her red head, searching for clues, and strangely he doesn’t look surprised. More like… conflicted. Wary.
“Auds.” He approaches us slowly, as if afraid to scare us away. “Want me to hold you?”
I blink at that. What a weird thing to say. I mean, this is supposedly about me, but he acts as if Audrey is the one in need of comforting. What the hell, right?
“No,” Audrey whispers and holds on to me. “Thanks. I want a moment to talk with Tess.”
Asher lifts his hands and retreats to what I assume must be their bedroom. I hear the door click shut.
I blink again. Audrey is still sniffling on my shoulder.
“Aud.” I lick my lips. Why is she acting like this? “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Were you…” I swallow hard. “Were you hurt by someone, too?”
She shakes her head vehemently, and I relax a little. “Okay. That’s good. Then why are you crying?”
“I’m just so sad and angry…” She pulls back. “What did he do to you, Tess? What did that bastard do?”
The words are so hard to utter. “He forced himself on me.” My voice sounds like a machine’s, emotionless, cold. “Got me drunk on his yacht, and then…” I wipe a hand over my face. It’s wet. I never realized I was crying, too. “I couldn’t push him off me. He was just too strong, and we were alone. My parents didn’t believe me. Didn’t want to believe me. They still think he’s the perfect match for me.”
“Oh, Tess…” Audrey gathers her knees to her chest, dropping her chin on them, and rocks a little. “This is so awful.”
I guess it is. I feel strangely disconnected right now. I’m not even shaking that badly anymore, distracted by Audrey’s strange mood.
