#Selfie

by Cambria Hebert

  I turned in the seat and started up the truck. I held her hand as we drove; the ride to the diner wasn’t a long one. I didn’t know the answer to Ivy’s questions. Hell, I wondered them myself. But the truth was sometimes people just did shitty stuff. I’d known that from a very early age.

  Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason. Sometimes they do it because they can.

  If there was one thing I learned throughout my life, it was people don’t do things because of other people; they do them because of what they get out of it. They do it for the way it makes them feel.

  Once we were parked and the engine was off, I got out, tugging her across the seat behind me. When I was on the ground, I reached in for Ivy and lifted her out. I set her close and kissed the tip of her nose on impulse.

  “I don’t think what Missy did was about you. Or Rimmel. Or any of the people she outed. I think it was all about her.”

  We walked hand in hand toward the diner, until Ivy froze in her steps.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, skimming the area around us, looking for some kind of threat.

  She made a sound of panic.

  “Ivy?” My heart was starting to beat faster.

  “I’m still wearing your shirt!” she hissed.

  “Is that all, woman? Please.” I started walking again. She refused to budge. I turned back and lifted an eyebrow. “What now?”

  She stepped up close and whispered dramatically, “I’m not wearing a bra either!”

  I matched her tone to whisper back, “Good thing the girls are perky!”

  “Braeden!” She gasped.

  I threw back my head and laughed. “C’mon. I’m so hungry I could eat the rotten end of a pig.”

  “Oh my gosh, that’s disgusting!” she burst out as I towed her along behind me.

  “Aw, baby. That hurts my feelings.”

  She made a rude noise, and I grinned. I opened the door to the diner, and she walked in first. I had to hold back a smile when she crossed her arms over her unleashed girls.

  This chick was fucking hilarious.

  Rimmel waved wildly from a booth near the window. Ivy hurried to the table and slid in across from Romeo and Rimmel. I followed with a lot less hurry in my step and slid in right next to Ivy.

  Romeo looked at Ivy, then at me. We exchanged a look. He held out his fist to pound it out. I obliged.

  “About damn time,” he grunted. Then he glanced at Rimmel, who had her hair piled on the top of her head and a pencil sticking out of the mess. “Can we order now, smalls? I’m so hungry I could eat the ass out of a skunk.”

  Ivy and Rimmel both made gagging sounds.

  “Good one,” I congratulated him.

  The waitress came and we all ordered pancakes. I ordered some eggs and bacon, too. So did Rome. And juice. Ivy got coffee. When the waitress walked away, I saw Romeo looking at my girl. My eyes narrowed.

  “I assume she’s been crying because of the mini-porn you two put on that the Boss blasted out?”

  Rimmel smacked him. “Seriously? You couldn’t have worded that nicer?”

  He shrugged. I wasn’t mad at him. Hell, there was no nice way to word what the hell Missy had done.

  “You’re never gonna believe it,” Ivy said wearily. I draped an arm across her shoulders and moved closer.

  “It affects you guys, too.” I directed the words to Rome. His gaze sharpened.

  “Braeden figured out who the BuzzBoss is,” Ivy announced. “It’s Missy.”

  The name flat-lined the conversation. It took a few minutes for what Ivy said to actually sink in. Once it had, the many questions started.

  Our coffee and juices came. Ivy barely touched hers because she was so busy talking. Then our hotcakes came. I’d plowed through half my plate when I noticed she’d not touched hers.

  She was still talking. She and Rimmel were being a bunch of women and analyzing every single thing Missy had ever done and said.

  Frankly, it was giving me indigestion.

  I dropped my hand across her thigh. Her sentence faltered and she looked down. “Food’s getting cold.”

  “I’m not as hungry as I thought.”

  I grunted. “It’s because you’re still yapping about Missy. Let’s give it a rest, huh?” I directed my last sentence to the entire table. “You’ve been through enough the past twenty-four hours. Take a breather.”

  “Did something else happen?” Rimmel asked, pausing mid-bite.

  Beneath my hand, Ivy’s thigh clenched. I gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Nah, what Missy put her through was enough.”

  Rimmel nodded and glanced down at her plate. She was upset, too. Betrayed and sad. I couldn’t blame her, and it pissed me off all over again.

  How could the two women I cared about most—besides my mom, of course—have been hurt so badly?

  Rimmel started talking about Prada and the funny shit she did this morning before she and Rome left for breakfast, and Ivy was totally drawn in. I never thought I’d be thankful for that little rat, but here I was… thankful.

  Romeo leaned across the table. “What else aren’t you saying?”

  I glanced at the girls. “Later, okay?”

  Reluctantly, he nodded. We left the girls to their conversation and started our own about the scrimmage last night. I was totally paying attention to our convo, but it didn’t stop me from noticing when Ivy picked up her fork and actually started eating.

  I finished off my plate of eggs and bacon and was making a damn good dent in the stack of pancakes in front of me when a change came over Romeo.

  I glanced up at him.

  He was staring at something off behind me. Something over in the direction of the door. “What’s going on?” I asked, starting to turn around.

  Romeo caught my arm and shook his head. “B…”

  Something was wrong. I knew it instantly.

  He blinked and jerked his eyes away, back to me. “Keep it together, okay?”

  What the fuck was he talking about?

  I was beyond pissed about Missy, but I wasn’t about to lose my shit right here in the diner.

  “I’m fine,” I replied.

  Romeo’s eyes drifted back behind our table once more. It was almost like he’d seen a ghost. I yanked my arm out of his grip and started to turn around.

  Before I could, the solid wall of someone approaching our table got in my way. The feeling of being stung by an angry bee came over me.

  Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.

  The man stopped beside our booth. He looked a lot like I remembered. Except he didn’t seem quite as big.

  My fork clattered onto the table as I stared. The man’s dark eyes studied every inch of me like he’d never seen me before.

  Beneath the table, my hands clenched into fists.

  “I realize this is rather sudden,” he spoke.

  “Sudden?” I scoffed. “You’re not welcome here.”

  “Braeden?” Ivy said, leaning in and tucking her arm around mine. She could probably feel the tension in my body and it was probably freaking her out.

  She should be freaked out.

  I fucking was.

  “Who is that?” she whispered.

  “Ah, you must be the girlfriend.” The man smiled, his eyes now roaming every inch of my girl.

  I jolted up out of the booth so fast he took two stumbling steps back. I stood so my body was blocking all view of Ivy and crossed my arms.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I growled. How dare this S.O.B look at Ivy?

  “You wouldn’t answer my calls or any of my messages,” he said, calm. “I’ve been in town a while, waiting… I know you eat here every Sunday, so I decided if you wouldn’t come to me, I’d just come to you.”

  “Have you been watching me?” So many emotions warred within me. So many memories.

  Almost every single one was bad.

  “I just want to talk to you, son.”

  “Son?” Rimmel and Ivy gasped at once.

&n
bsp; “That’s right,” he answered, trying to look around me again. He couldn’t see Ivy so he glanced at Rimmel instead.

  “Yes, son. I’m Braeden’s father.”

  Chapter

  Forty-Two

  Ivy

  Braeden never mentioned his father. Not in passing, not in general comments, not ever.

  Judging from the way he was acting right now and the mirrored look on Romeo’s face, I would guess there was a reason.

  I was curious, not because of the very cool reception this man was getting, but because this was part of Braeden’s life.

  For all the time I’ve spent with him—even when we fought all the time—he played things very close to the vest. His just-for-fun approach to women also extended into the rest of his life. He was always cracking a joke, an insult, or being sarcastic. I knew his mother lived near campus and he went to see her often, but that was about as much as I knew.

  It seemed unfair all the embarrassing crap he knew about me, and I knew nothing at all.

  “If I wanted to talk to you, I would have called you back,” Braeden snapped.

  His father didn’t seem to be surprised or even offended at the way B was acting.

  “I’m only asking for a few minutes of your time.”

  “I don’t have a few minutes for you. Leave.” The steel in his voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and Rimmel and I shared a look.

  For some reason, she didn’t seem as intrigued. If anything, she seemed a little sickened and worried about this man’s presence.

  I slid forward and peeked around B to get a better look at the man.

  He was tall like Braeden and had the same wide-set shoulders. He was a lot thinner than Braeden; he lacked the hefty muscle mass his son wore. His hair was dark but peppered with a lot of gray and was cut incredibly short.

  He had strong facial features, a sharp nose, and eyes the same shade of deep brown as B. He also had lines around his eyes and mouth and circles under his eyes. He was older than I thought Braeden’s parent would be and a lot more stoic, too.

  “Hello,” he said, catching my stare. “My name is Mark.”

  “Don’t talk to her,” Braeden snapped.

  People from the tables nearby stopped to stare.

  “Now isn’t a good time,” Romeo said, getting up from the booth.

  Mark looked at him. “Roman. I hear congratulations are in order for the Knights.”

  Romeo didn’t smile or say thank you.

  “I’m afraid time isn’t really something I have a lot of,” he said, turning back to Braeden. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, son. To let you know how deeply sorry I am. I want to make amends, hopefully give you some peace.”

  “And for yourself,” Braeden said.

  Mark inclined his head. “Yes, for me, too.” He paused and quieted his voice. “I’m dying.”

  The words settled like a heavy fog in the middle of a rainstorm. It was thick and ominous, and I was shocked he would just drop that news out there like that.

  Braeden didn’t outwardly react. He stood there with the same rigid posture and protective stance in front of me.

  “Not the first time you lied.”

  He smiled sadly. “I wish I were lying. It’s my liver. Been sick for a long time now.”

  “Guess you shouldn’t have drunk so much back in the day.”

  “I think it’s karma,” Mark said. “And I think you might agree.”

  “The day I agree with you is a day I don’t wanna see.”

  Even though I saw no change in Braeden, I felt it. I felt it all the way to my bones. I slid my hand up to the small of his back, slipped it beneath the shirt he was wearing, and laid my palm flat against his skin.

  I wanted him to know I was here for him.

  “Can we go outside?” Mark asked. “Just for a minute.”

  Seconds stretched by and turned into a minute. Braeden seemed to honestly debate with himself about what he should do. Finally, he gave his answer.

  “I can’t do this right now. Not here. Not now.”

  Mark nodded, his face a little sad. “I understand.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “This is my number. Please call me. Anytime. I have no right to ask, but all I want is one conversation.”

  Braeden stared at his outstretched hand with the paper for long seconds. Reluctantly, he took it. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Thank you.”

  He hesitated before he left, then glanced over at Rimmel. Both Braeden and Romeo stiffened, and Mark took a step back.

  “I’ll look forward to your call.” He left the diner without another word or glance.

  Everything in the room seemed to buzz back to life, everything but Braeden. He was rooted in place like a tree in a storm. He stood there and stared out the window for a long time.

  All of a sudden, he burst into action. He shoved away from our booth without a word, stalked through the diner, and banged out the door. Through the window, I saw him place both hands behind his head and stare up at the sky.

  Romeo started after him. I grabbed his shirt and hurried to slide out of the booth.

  “Let me go this time,” I said.

  Romeo seemed torn on what to do. He clearly knew what this kind of visit would do to Braeden, and I clearly did not. He wasn’t sure if he could trust me to handle this the right way.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  He relented and nodded once.

  I rushed out of the diner and into the sunshine.

  Chapter

  Forty-Three

  Braeden

  I was leaning against the side of the building when she approached. “Go back inside, Blondie.”

  Her steps faltered, but almost as fast, they started up again. Ivy leaned up against the building beside me, mirroring my position.

  “I take it you don’t send him a Christmas card every year?” she asked.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It was damned ridiculous. “Fuck, no.”

  “How long’s it been since you’ve seen him?” Her voice was much more timid and serious.

  “I was ten years old.” The day was clear as a cloudless sky, and I would likely remember it forever. It didn’t matter how much time passed; that day never faded.

  I was sitting in a hospital, solemn and scared by my mother’s bed. Standing at my side was an officer of the court, a woman who smelled like mothballs and wore an ill-fitting suit.

  He’d beaten her.

  He’d beaten her so bad she was in a coma for two days.

  I watched, helpless, frozen with fear and unable to help her.

  When she finally woke up, her first visit was from child services. I’d been taken into custody while they waited to see if she’d live. When it became clear she would, the child service rep gave her a choice: him or me.

  She could press charges and have my father thrown in jail, serve him divorce papers, and get out from under his abuse.

  Or…

  Or she could give me up. Let me become a ward of the state while she went home and waited for the day when my father would finally beat her until she died.

  She chose me.

  The second visitor to her room was the police. Her injuries, previous hospital records, and testimony were enough to have him arrested that day.

  But they couldn’t find him to bring him in.

  As my mother healed, they allowed me to visit her for short periods of time. It was during these visits when I last laid eyes on him. He stormed onto the hospital floor, drunk and yelling. I guess he felt like hitting something, and his punching bag wasn’t home.

  The cops were there, and I watched as they arrested him.

  I never saw my father again.

  Until today.

  I snapped back from the memory, the day I’d never forget, to Ivy, who was in my arms. Or maybe I was in hers.

  Her arms were wrapped around my neck and her head was tilted to the side. My face was buried in her neck as
I hugged her to me.

  “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “You were just a little boy.”

  I started to pull back, but her arms tightened. She drew lazy circles on the back of my neck, and I shuddered. She smelled good, so I tugged her that much closer.

  “I said all that out loud?” I murmured. I thought I’d been thinking. I didn’t realize I’d poured it all out.

  “Yes. But it’s okay. I wanted to know. I want to know everything there is to know.”

  I pulled back and carefully set her away from me. “I can’t do this.” Panic clawed at the inside of my throat.

  “Do what?” she asked, gently.

  Damn, I wanted to hug her again.

  “Whatever it is we’re doing.” I motioned between us. “I don’t do relationships.”

  “And now I know why.”

  I swung around. “What?”

  “You’re afraid.”

  “I am not.” I growled. That was fucking insulting. I wasn’t scared of shit.

  “I can’t blame you. After what you saw of relationships in your own house, frankly, I’m surprised you aren’t more screwed up.”

  “Did you come out here to make me feel better? ‘Cause you’re doing a piss-poor job.”

  She smiled and took a step forward. “I don’t think I can do anything to make you feel better. What just happened in there was intense. He comes back after all this time and expects you to have forgotten everything he did. You can’t do that, and you shouldn’t have to either. But there he was, and he’s dying.”

  “He just thinks I’ll hand him over a pass for what he did to Mom and me.” I shook my head. I was angry, but not as angry as I thought I would be.

  I was too tired to be angry. I was sick of all the drama. Plus, seeing him made me realize I had a lot more power now than I did back then. He couldn’t hurt me or anyone else I loved anymore, and I was strong enough to make sure of that.

  Maybe Mom was right. Maybe seeing him would help me move on. I looked at Ivy. She smiled. I wanted to move on. I was ready.

  “Whatever you decide, B. Call him or don’t call him. It doesn’t matter. Just do what you need to do for you. I’ll support you no matter what. I’ll always support you.”

  “You know, if I was ever gonna do a relationship, you’d be the only one I’d do it with.” I pulled her in and wrapped my arms around her.