by Andrea Joan
SILENCE HAS NEVER BEEN so glaringly loud or uncomfortable before. I swear I would cut off my pinky finger for a Xanax right now. Where is Noah when I need him?
I can’t stop my knee from bouncing or my palms from sweating no matter how many times I wipe them on my dress, and I can’t decide what I want more. To be out of this car or for this ride to last forever so that I can delay whatever outcome is going to come from whatever the hell happened at Steve’s office.
Of three things I am certain: I have no idea what I’m going to do about Jeff but I’m starting to become increasingly grateful for all those hours I spent watching the Investigation Discovery channel because I’m pretty confident I know just enough to get away with his murder.
Two, Liam just used me to fuck his anger away, and while I can tell by his behavior afterward that he felt guilty about it, I liked it. I wanted him to use me, craved it even. During that whole meeting my mind was spinning. I couldn’t focus. I felt myself slowly falling deeper and deeper into a dark place. I acted all tough and take-charge, but inside I was completely lost and hopeless. When he bent me over that table and drove into me again and again, every thrust brought me closer to ecstasy and further from the dark. It anchored me. Centered me.
And finally, I have a very bad feeling about what Liam plans to do next. He’s protective, and I know if he thinks he’s hurting me, he’ll leave. Liam will protect me from himself even if I don’t want or need it. The thought of him leaving scares me, and the idea of not knowing what’s about to happen with him makes me nervous. And being scared and nervous makes me ramble and say really stupid things.
“I was a spy when I was a kid,” I blurt out.
“What now?”
See?
“I mean, not a real spy or anything.”
“You don’t say,” he deadpans.
“Shut up,” I say, rolling my eyes. “My favorite book was Harriet the Spy. I must have read it a hundred times. It was the only book my mom ever gave me, even though I was too young to read it at the time. Anyway, when Carl moved us to California after my mom died, he would go to work and leave me alone all day. I was seven. No babysitter and no grandparents to watch over me, so naturally I got bored. I found a spiral notebook and these binoculars Carl had, and I would spy on all the neighbors. Take notes. Watch their lives unfold. Especially the homes with kids. I would pretend their lives were mine. That I was sitting with my mom and dad at the dining room table, eating a real meal. Or playing in the backyard with a brother or sister, sliding down the slide and climbing back up just to go down again.”
Watching the Kensington family had always been my favorite. They ate dinner every night at seven. Every Saturday morning Riley and her brother John played outside in their backyard. Their parents always sat on the porch watching and drinking their morning coffee. They even had an honest-to-god white picket fence.
“Anyway, when I went to audition for Mandy Mayhem, I nailed it. Probably because I had a few years’ practice pretending I was a spy, so I really had a head start on that whole child detective thing.”
“Baby, as adorable as that story is, what’s your point?” he asks, one hand on the steering wheel, the other playing with a lock of my hair. Liam always seems to be doing that, finding ways to touch me. Lately I’ve even been timing how long he can last without touching me in some small way; grazing his fingers across my thigh when I walk by, his arm around my neck, his rough fingers playing with my hair. His personal best has been twenty-one minutes, and as desperate and pathetic as it may sound, those twenty-one minutes kind of sucked.
“My point is that it’s okay to pretend with me. Hell, I’ve made a career out of it. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. Not about Ali, or your brother, or Isabel. I’ll pretend right along with you, because sometimes, if you pretend long enough, that fake life can become your new reality.”
I expect to see a relieved look on his face, that maybe he would be happy I was unburdening him, but as we pulled up to my gate he looked over to me with the saddest expression. Almost like I was a child he pitied, and my heart splintered just a little at that realization.
“Sky, that isn’t how life works, sweetheart. That is most definitely not how relationships work,” he admonishes while punching the code into the gate. He may as well be punching me in the stomach because I swear that’s what his words feel like. He just made me out to be some naïve girl who has no idea how life works. Well, fuck him.
“I’m not stupid, Liam.”
“What?”
“I said I’m not stupid,” I repeat, trying to keep the tears in my eyes from falling.
“Sky, I never said you were stupid. Where is this coming from?” When he looks over at me I see concern and hurt, and for some reason, that pisses me off even more. A part of me realizes that he never said or implied I was stupid, but I can’t stop from lashing out because deep, deep down I know. He’s touched on my biggest insecurity, the one that has taunted me for years, that had me fearing ever getting truly intimate with someone.
“I know how relationships work.” I don’t. “You don’t have to have been in one to know how one works.” Yeah, but you probably would have needed to witness a successful one at least once in your life. Or know how it feels to be truly loved by someone. A mother, a father, a friend you don’t pay.
Tears finally wet my cheeks. Not a lot of them, just a few. Enough for Liam to take notice when I quickly swipe them away. The car has been stopped at the end of the driveway for far too long and I just want him to move it so I can run inside and hide under my covers for the rest of the day.
“Baby, why are you crying? You have to clue me in on what the fuck is going through your head right now because I have no idea how we got here.” Liam reaches out to wipe a tear away but I quickly move from his touch. It wasn’t even intentional, just an instinctive reaction to hating the fact that he is witnessing me being this vulnerable.
“What the fuck, Skylar.” He grabs my chin gently, turning my face so I’m forced to look at him. “Don’t ever, fucking ever, jump away from my touch. Especially not when you’re crying and all I want to do is help make it go away. Be pissed. Be sad. Cry. Fucking yell at me, hit me, kiss me like you hate me. Fuck me like you despise me. But never turn away from me. You get me?”
The sun shines brightly outside, rays bouncing off the windshield. Birds are chirping from the palm trees that line the street; everything beyond this car is the personification of cheerful and happy. But inside, it may as well be pouring rain and striking lightning directly on us because this storm is just beginning, and the only thing I can do to prevent a total disaster is agree. So I nod my head, and in return he punishes my lips with a harsh kiss before driving us up to the house. And that’s when I realize everything is about to get so much worse, because parked in front of my house is the last person I want to see right now, but the first person I should have expected.
“Whose car is that?”
I take a deep breath and on the exhale spit out his name. “Carl’s.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Fury pours off of him and I seriously almost fear for Carl in this moment. Almost.
Liam throws his door open and stalks over to Carl’s Escalade, looking ready to commit murder. I unclip my seatbelt quickly, jumping out of the Lotus in an attempt to intercept him. It’s true I can’t find it in me to care what happens to Carl one way or another, but I do care what happens to Liam. I know that my father is not here out of the goodness of his heart, and whatever he says may push an already on the edge Liam right over. Carl will not hesitate to play dirty. If Liam touches him in any way, even if provoked, Carl will have him thrown in jail.
“Whoa, Liam. Hold on,” I say, throwing myself in front of him, palms pressed to his chest. Sometimes it’s easy to forget just how much bigger he really is than me. Not just in strength, but in height too. I feel like Tinkerbell trying to stop a raging bull.
“He’s not even in th
e car. Where the hell is he?”
I know he’s not going to like this answer.
“He’s probably in the house.”
Taking a slow step back, he puts some distance between us, his menacing stare burning through me. Yep. He’s pissed.
“In the house,” he states.
I swallow hard before answering. “Yes.”
“That motherfucker has had a key and the alarm code to your house this entire time?”
I’m really not appreciating his accusatory tone. “Yes, as a matter of fact he has, and you know what, I don’t owe you any type of explanation for that. You haven’t been in my life that long, and despite your disdain for Carl, he is still my father and manager. So, yes, he has a key and the alarm code to my house because why the hell wouldn’t he?”
Trust me, at this point I regret ever giving him access to my house, but I’d been under his control for so long that I never really thought I had a choice when he demanded it from me. Not to mention, I was technically a minor at the time I purchased the house, so as far as I knew, he had every right to a key. Looking back on it now, I know it was just another control tactic he used to make sure I was never far from his reach, but I’ve only recently started to truly separate myself from him, and I honestly forgot about the key. But I stand by what I said to Liam. He can be pissed all he wants, but I did nothing wrong.
He snatches my wrist and walks us to the front door. “You’re right. You don’t owe me an explanation as to why you gave him a key, but you should have told me he had easy access to your house.” He stops us right in front of the door and turns to face me, my wrist still in his grasp, his thumb pressing against my pulse. “But right now, none of that matters because we are going in there and I’m going to stand there while you do what you should have done the first day I met him.”
Despite the issue that still hangs heavy between us, the one I know we will have to deal with later, I can’t help the small smirk that I wear proudly. Liam is right. I finally get to do what I should have done a long time ago, and I have zero excuses to not pull the proverbial trigger now. And I can’t wait.
“You have to swear to me, Liam, that you will keep your shit together. Let me handle it. Carl knows the right buttons to push and he’ll punish you if you react. And I’m not talking about physical punishment. He’s manipulative and dangerous. You understand what I’m telling you?”
Liam’s lips, the ones I love to be on any part of my skin, form a scowl. A scowl that tells me he is currently weighing the pros and cons of going in there ready for a fight with Carl, or bracing for the fight with me afterward if he goes after him.
“Fine, but if he gets out of line or approaches you like before, I can’t promise shit.”
“I expect nothing less. After all, that is what I pay you for.”
“It’s not about that.”
“I know.” I reach out to lightly stroke his cheek before kissing him softly on the mouth. “Well, what are you waiting for, slugger? Open the door.”
He grins back right before placing a kiss on my forehead. “With fucking pleasure, sweetheart.”
The sight of Carl used to cause knots in my stomach, nervous ones like the ones I would sometimes get right before an audition, because that’s how I always felt around him. Like I was auditioning for the role of perfect daughter, one that he could love and respect and take care of. Only these knots were also tied with fear because the outcome of losing with him was so much worse than losing a role.
Now looking at Carl as he leans casually against my kitchen counter, resentment and contempt burning through eyes that mirror my own, I feel empowered. It could be argued that my sudden burst of confidence is solely due to the 6’3” trained boxer-turned-bodyguard boyfriend standing next to me, but I know, deep in my heart, that it’s all me. This strength is mine to claim.
“What are you doing here, Carl? Because I sure as hell didn’t invite you. I also know you never called to say you were coming.”
Carl looks from me to Liam then down to my wrist which is still firmly in Liam’s grasp while he takes a protective stance by my side. He rolls his eyes and scoffs, as if the sight of us together is one big joke to him.
“Nice to see you too, daughter, and since when do I need to be invited?” He straightens up from the counter where he was leaning. “Also, calling seems to be a pointless fucking effort with you these days seeing as you don’t answer your damn phone.”
He has a point there. Avoidance has been my best friend as of late.
“Cut the shit, Carl, and tell me what you want. Then make sure to give me my key back on your way out.”
I hear Liam whisper a faint “hellcat” and I can’t stop the slight shiver I get from his warm breath caressing my ear or the small smile that appears on my lips. Liam knows exactly what I need in this moment: for him to stand back, not far enough back to make me feel alone, but just enough to let me close this door myself.
“Cut the shit? Oh, I see. Now that you have your latest fuck toy on a leash you think that makes you safe to mouth off to me?”
“Hey—”
“Liam.” I turn my head slightly, shaking it in warning. “Like I said, Carl, cut the bullshit. You are not to disrespect me or Liam, especially not in my own house, so hurry up and get to the point of this little visit, or leave.”
“Okay, fine.” He starts to roll up the sleeves on his blue button-down shirt slowly, a move I know very well; it’s intended to intimidate me because it usually means he’s gearing up to slap me around. “Let’s talk about the fact that you had a meeting with your previous fuck toy and Steve earlier and didn’t bother to inform me about it. I should have been there, Skylar. I’m your goddamn manager.”
Okay, now I’m pissed. So pissed that I don’t care if the outburst I’m about to have leads to me getting hit.
“I never touched Jeff, and you know it! I can’t believe you!” Strong arms wrap around my waist and haul me back.
“Easy there, sweetheart. If anyone gets a go at him, it’s me,” he says into my ear so that only I can hear him.
“I already told you once that I don’t really give a shit what your relationship with Jeff is, Skylar. All I care about is getting another one of your messes cleaned up before the media finds out what a grade-A fuck-up you are.”
“Hey, asshole! I already told you once to watch your tone with her, or I’ll be the one coming after you,” Liam warns, his hold on my waist tightening.
Carl’s composure is that of someone completely at ease, as if he’s just swatting an annoying fly rather than getting threatened by someone who could kick his ass as easy as he blinks.
“I’d acknowledge your threat but then that would mean I’d have to acknowledge your presence, and quite frankly that seems pointless.”
He lets go of my waist and stalks a little closer to Carl. “Seeing as I’m here to protect your daughter, it’s in your best fucking interest to acknowledge me.”
“As I was saying, Skylar,” he says, emphasizing my name pointedly as he looks around Liam to me. “You should’ve had me at that meeting so I could’ve made sure you paid him off like we decided. Instead, you brought reject Rocky over here who almost destroyed any chance of making this go away,” he says, waving his hand toward Liam.
I step forward slowly, making sure to put myself in front of Liam so Carl sees my eyes when I speak to him. “First of all, do not call him a reject. And we did not decide anything. I told you I wasn’t going to pay Jeff off, but you refused to accept my decision. And last but certainly not least, I didn’t want you at that meeting. That’s why you weren’t there. It’s over, Carl. This business arrangement we have is done.”
Shit, that felt good. Better than good. Fucking amazing. That is, until I hear Carl’s laugh. The one that is clearly meant to patronize me and prove to me I’m nothing but a joke he can laugh at, and I know it makes me weak to admit it, but it’s starting to work. The confidence and inner strength I so bravely walked in here wi
th is starting to dissipate ever so slightly.
“We both know you aren’t going to fire me. You would be nothing without me, Skylar. You’ll be even less than that without me now. Don’t forget, daughter. You owe me, which means I own you.”
“You shut the fuck up! You don’t own her. She can make her own decisions, and her choice is to let you the fuck go, and I couldn’t agree more. I see you, Carl. You’re a low-life scumbag piece of shit that gets off on scaring and intimidating your daughter in order to maintain control over her because you know if she ever finds out the real truth, you’re fucked.”
“And what truth is that, boy?”
“You would be nothing without her.”
I can’t help but stare at Liam in front of me, inches away from Carl, and I do mean stare. Possibly even full on gaping. A full on total gaping dreamy stare.
Although when I say it like that, it seems less on the romantic side and more on the weird stalker porn-y side.
Carl finally shows an emotion other than indifference. In fact, he looks pissed and maybe even a little scared at the realization that this should be taken seriously. For the first time ever he looks threatened.
Or so I had the pleasure of thinking for all of about fifteen seconds, before he brings everything crashing down around us.
“Since you seem eager to bring up truths, let’s bring up some of yours.” That’s when I see the folder on the kitchen counter, the one his fingers are currently tapping. I look over at Liam only to realize he notices the folder too, and his face pales immediately. I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I’m certain I don’t want it to.
