Once Caleb leaves, I look around the empty apartment briefly before I pull my cell phone out of my carry-on. When I turn it on, I see my mom has called once already. I can’t help but smile as I return the call.
“Faith?” my mom demands as soon as she picks up.
“Who else would be calling from this number?” I ask lightly as I sit down on the bed. It’s the only piece of furniture this place has. Unless you count the two stools in the kitchen by the counter top.
“How was your last flight?”
“Not too bad.”
“What do you think of Long Beach?” she asks curiously.
“I just got here, so I haven’t seen much of anything yet.”
I hear the murmur of my dad’s voice in the background, and his voice comes on the line. “Faith. Glad you made it out there safely,” he tells me.
“How are things?” I ask cautiously. He knows I’m referring to Oliver. As long as he doesn’t suddenly skip town, we know I’ll be safe here. But if he disappears…that’s when I should begin to worry.
“Everything’s calm. It’ll take him a while to figure out you’ve left. Now, make sure you take that money we gave you and buy a car. We’ll co-sign and help with insurance until you get yourself a job. And look into the college there, see what interests you,” he suggests.
“Dad…”
“Don’t you ‘dad’ me,” he says gruffly. “We gave you the money, use it.”
I bite my lip. “I’ll look into both,” I say slightly. My parents are not rich by any means, and I know they certainly couldn’t afford to give me as much money as they had. I felt bad taking it, but I hadn’t wanted to hurt their feelings by refusing.
From what I could see of the area, I might be able to get a job within walking distance from the apartment. I noticed that about a block down the street there are a line of shops. I’ll check them out tomorrow. As for college… I had originally planned on going to the local college in Harrison. Both Justin and I had planned on going there and sharing an apartment, but that was before I tried to breakup with him, and he lost his temper. Right now, college is the last thing on my mind. My main concern is being safe and simply learning to navigate the world without someone controlling everything I do. That in itself would be hard enough. College will have to wait until I can get my life sorted.
“Ben called earlier, make sure you call or text message him,” my father tells me, cutting into my thoughts.
My brother, Ben, is several years older than me. He lives back home in Harrison with his wife Della, who is seven months pregnant. Ben and I have always been pretty close, but I know Justin’s attack left him shocked and bewildered. He couldn’t understand why I put up with Justin’s abuse or why I hadn’t told him about it in the first place. It’s been a tough year, and I’m still working on mending our relationship.
I rub my forehead and exhaustion begins to creep up on me. “I’ll be sure to let him know that I made it here safely,” I promise.
We talk for a few more minutes, and when the conversation is finished, I set aside the phone. I gaze around the room that will be my ‘home’ for as long as I stay here in Long Beach. A slow smile forms on my lips. For the first time in my life I am on my own. It’s a bit daunting, but I had no idea it would feel this good.
Chapter Two
Faith
I wake up feeling surprisingly refreshed the next morning. I’d fallen asleep last night as soon as my head hit the pillow, and now I’m ready for whatever this new day will bring. Just the prospect of not knowing is thrilling in itself. This is a golden opportunity to learn who I really am without any imprisoning limitations. I'll be making my own decisions from here on out.
Since the kitchen cupboards are empty and there’s nothing to eat, I jump in the shower after climbing out of bed. Buying groceries is second on my list of things to do today. Once I’m dried off, I dig through my suitcases for something that would be appropriate for a job interview. I don't want to live off of my parents’ money, so the first order of business is to find a job.
I decide on a pair of black pants and a simple, light green blouse that makes my skin look a little washed out. Unfortunately, it's about the only thing I have that's interview material. The rest of my stuff is mostly tee shirts. Besides, if I have to look pretty to get a job, it's probably not one I'd want anyway. I'd rather fade into the background than be on some sort of display. After I slip the outfit on, I pull my long, still damp, blonde hair back into a sleek, little knot at the nape of my neck. I’m not one for much makeup, so I’m ready to go within five minutes.
About two blocks away from the complex, I come across a small café with a window display of artwork that announces a bookstore inside. I'm an avid reader and find myself stepping inside, instantly inhaling the tantalizing aroma of fresh coffee and old books. As I wait behind a woman in line, I look around with satisfaction. This will probably become one of my favorite places to visit. I enjoy reading—I certainly had plenty of time to do it this past year when I’d been desperate to escape my turbulent thoughts.
The café walls are painted a pale blue, and a couple of plants hang from the corners of the room. There are small tables set up along a wall, and they also line the large windows at the front. On the opposite side of the room is a counter with a register and an assortment of cute, little glass-covered display dishes full of cookies. Behind the counter and against the back wall is an espresso machine. A chalkboard on the wall lists all the different varieties of coffee and espresso drinks the little café offers. Then, to the very right of the café, is a doorway that leads into what looks like the book store.
I want to explore, but my stomach is silently grumbling. I hadn’t eaten much yesterday. While I wait for my turn, I notice the ‘now hiring’ sign near the register.
My eyes brighten.
Perfect.
* * *
All the uncertainty I’d felt on my flight has completely disappeared by the time late afternoon rolled around. I’m finding it much easier to settle into my new life than I had originally expected. I now have a job that I know I’m going to love, and I’d found a small family owned grocery store about three blocks down from the apartment complex. There is absolutely no reason to waste money on a car when I can walk to my job and to the market. If I want to go anywhere else, I can simply take the bus. I like this whole ‘living on my own’ thing.
My mood is pretty upbeat when Caleb drops by later with Zoey.
I’m not the least bit surprised that Caleb’s fiancée is gorgeous. I feel like the equivalent of a wet dish rag standing next to her. First of all, she’s taller than me. Well—everyone’s taller than me. Second, she’s got curves in all the places that I don’t. Her auburn hair falls to about her mid-back in layered waves while sultry, dark brown eyes stare back at me curiously. This woman just exudes sex appeal.
“Faith, this is Zoey. Zoey, meet Faith,” Caleb introduces.
Zoey smiles warmly at me. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I say tentatively. I’m awkward around new people, and I’m feeling intimidated by her.
I watch as Zoey looks around my bare apartment, her nose scrunching slightly. She looks up at Caleb and asks, “You said she has money, right?”
I can't help but stare at her. Is she deliberately ignoring me?
Caleb also gives her an odd look before responding to her question. “They sent some with so she can buy a car and get settled in.”
Zoey’s brown eyes swing back to me, and she looks me up and down. I get the feeling she’s not liking what she’s seeing. “I'm going to take you out for a bit,” she tells me before she turns back to Caleb. “I’ll let you know when we’re back.”
Take me where? Do I even get a choice in the matter? Caleb had warned me that Zoey's bold, but I wasn't expecting her to hijack my evening.
Caleb hesitates, and his eyes flicker to me as if debating whether or not Zoey's offer is a good thing or a bad thing. The fact that he's as bewildered as I a
m is a bit unsettling. “That okay with you?” he asks me.
Uh, no. “Yeah, sure,” I lie, not wanting to cause trouble by disagreeing. I want Caleb’s fiancée to like me. It would be bad if we can’t get along seeing as Caleb’s the only family I have here, although it doesn’t escape my notice that he looks a bit uneasy as he leaves.
Zoey crosses her arms over full breasts that I am extremely jealous over. “Grab your purse. You'll need it,” she announces.
I shake my head, deciding to try this whole ‘assertiveness’ thing that my therapist has talked so much about. “My parents can’t really afford what they gave me, I’d rather not spend it.”
Zoey levels me with a look. “And if you gave it back, would they take it?”
My silence is her answer.
“Exactly. Look around you,” she says, waving her hand at the bare apartment. “Is this how you want to live?”
My gaze shifts to peer around the room, a frown marring my face. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean.”
Bemusement flickers across her features. “Did Caleb warn you I usually say whatever I’m thinking whether you want to hear it or not?”
I nod warily.
“Good,” she says simply. “Caleb’s told me a little about your past, and I’m getting the feeling that you’re a people pleaser. You do what’s expected of you rather than what you want to do, don’t you?” she asks with brutal honesty.
My entire body stiffens up. “I would have to be in order to stay in an abusive relationship, right?” I ask tightly. Damn it. I know I was a fool, and I’m realizing it now. I don’t want to be ‘her’ anymore. I want to be Faith, whoever Faith is when she’s not being controlled. That’s the problem. Who am I without Justin?
Much to my surprise, Zoey’s eyes immediately soften. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. My point is that you’re here in California. There’s no one to please; you can do what you want now. Whether you don’t want to spend the money or not, I think you should. Do you really want to live in an empty apartment for weeks? I thought the whole point of moving was to start over, to figure out your life. Give yourself something to look at daily that reflects who you are; it's kind of like a positive boost each morning when you wake up.” She hesitates before adding, “Surrounding yourself with things that bring you peace goes a long way.”
It’s then that I remember hearing through the family grapevine that Zoey had lost her twin brother four years ago. She seems to be speaking from experience, and I look around the empty apartment. It’s mine, and that in itself is amazing considering I’d almost died a year ago. I want to live. I want to live so badly, but I’m not sure how to really embrace life. Yes, I got a job, and I can go to the market, but I haven’t considered doing anything else besides that. It’s because I’m doing what I am most comfortable with. How do I step outside of my comfort zone?
“I’ll get my purse,” I agree.
“Go change, too.”
My brow creases as I try to figure out how to deal with Caleb's fiancée. “Into what?” I ask cautiously.
“Anything other than that.”
My lips part to tell her she's being ridiculously bossy, but I hesitate. I'm definitely lacking some assertiveness here.
Zoey's eyes gleam as she grins knowingly. “Say it.”
“Say what?” I'm feeling flustered now.
“Tell me I’m a rude bitch.”
My eyes widen. “No, I don’t think—”
“Oh, shut it,” she says, waving a hand at me. “I’ve clearly got a lot of work to do. Go change,” she says with a hint of exasperation mixed with affection. It's that hint of affection that lets me know she's not trying to be mean.
I still don’t budge from where I stand. “What’s wrong with this?” I ask with confusion as I look down at my tee shirt and shorts. I haven't got a clue what her problem is with my clothes, and I'm beginning to feel a bit offended. Not everyone can look as attractive as she does.
Zoey’s lips visibly tighten. “Your ex favored baggy shit, right?”
My answer is complete silence. It’s better than admitting it out loud, and I have a feeling I know where she’s going with this conversation.
Disgust flickers across her face. “I bet you’ve got a cute figure under those clothes, and he wanted to keep it all to himself. Possessive bastard. Go get your purse; we’re erasing everything he’s made you into.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I try to swallow it down. This is what I need, a nudge—or in Zoey’s case—a shove to find myself. “Did Caleb put you up to this?”
Zoey’s head tilts. “What makes you think that?”
“I need help,” I confess while I fight back a bit of shame for not being able to confidently control situations. “It’s hard for me to make people aware of what I want.”
The fact that I lack the ability to do something as simple as share my opinion when I disagree with someone is so incredibly disheartening. Somewhere inside me is a little voice that's screaming to be let out. It wants to be heard. I know there is a part of me that aches to be woken up. So how do I wake that part of myself?
Zoey strides over and her gaze settles into mine. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. And I’m warning you, you need to learn to speak up for yourself, or I’m going to bulldoze right over you.” She smirks slightly before saying, “Trust me, you might not be as…open to what I like. Better to speak your mind, or you’ll find yourself someplace that’s going to push you to your limit. I don’t half-ass shit. Now, do you want to come with me and see what I have planned?”
* * *
I can’t believe I am doing this.
“I think it’s too small,” I protest as I tug at the hem. More like the little dress is far too short for my liking.
“Hold still, or I’m going to burn you,” Zoey warns as she expertly rolls a long strand of my pale blonde hair around the curling iron she’s holding. Her brown eyes meet mine in the bathroom mirror, and she gives me one of ‘those’ looks that I am growing accustomed to. “The dress fits exactly as it should. As for the length, quit worrying over it. It’s longer than mine, and it’s the perfect length to show off those legs of yours. I knew you were hiding a cute little figure beneath the baggy shit you called clothes.”
I sigh inwardly and resign myself to wearing the scrap of material that Zoey insists is a dress. My eyes run over my reflection in the mirror, and I feel self-conscious. The dress is actually really pretty, but I’d rather it be on someone else's body than my own.
It’s a pale, buttercup yellow color and is sleeveless. When we went shopping a couple days ago, Zoey insisted on helping me pick out some lingerie along with my new clothes. I’d drawn the line at the skimpy stuff she wanted me to buy, and instead I bought the simpler, less racy stuff. Tonight, I am wearing a white, lacy bra that is padded. It gives the fantastic illusion that I actually have breasts—though not as large as Zoey’s full C’s. I have to admit, I do love the bra, though. It definitely helps fill out the top part of my dress. My waist is naturally small, and a narrow, gold belt is cinched around it while the loose material of the skirt sways slightly a little above my knees.
I frown down at the gold, strappy high heels Zoey insisted I buy to match the dress—momentarily forgetting that I’m supposed to be holding still. I feel a tug on my hair and a brief moment of extreme heat as Zoey curses from behind me. My eyes connect with hers in the mirror, and I give her an apologetic look.
She holds the curling iron up in the air and gives me a look. “This thing is hot, and I nearly burned your ear off. Hold the fuck still.”
“Sorry,” I mutter as I obediently hold still so she can finish curling my hair.
I’m still getting used to the foul language that spews out of Zoey’s mouth. I admit, I’m a little sheltered. Well, maybe a lot considering Justin always kept me to himself. Oddly enough, instead of feeling uncomfortable, I find the swearing entertaining. Caleb’s fiancée definitely does not walk on egg shells a
round me. I like that. A lot.
I think I was in shock the other day when I went shopping with her. It’s that shock that had me buying furniture for the apartment. I now have a blue and white floral couch, one white end table for the living room, and two lamps—one for the living room and one for on the new nightstand. We didn't look at what she liked, she pushed me to buy the things that drew a second glance from me. I also have a new wardrobe, and some of the stuff I actually like. There’s about a third of it that I don’t like. Okay, I'm lying. I do like some of the clothes in that third category, but I’d rather see them on someone else than myself. Flashy things make me feel self-conscious.
“Are you girls almost ready?” Caleb calls from my living room for the third time in the past five minutes.
Zoey snickers as she unplugs the curling iron and sets it aside. “If you ask us one more time, I’m going to insist on giving her a mani and pedi before we leave, too,” she threatens loudly so that her voice carries to the other room.
We both hear Caleb groan.
Zoey smirks and glances at my nails. “You do need a manicure, but we’ll save that for another day.” She peers at me critically. “I think we’re set.”
I glance at my reflection in the mirror and doubtful blue eyes stare back at me. “I don’t feel like myself. I look different.”
“That’s the point. Come on,” Zoey says, pulling me into the living room. “What do you think?” she asks Caleb as she motions towards me.
Caleb rises to his feet while he stares at me with an odd expression. “You look beautiful,” he says as a crooked smile quickly replaces the look he'd just given me.
I thank him, and then peer at Zoey skeptically. “Are you sure I won’t get carded?”
“Absolutely,” she says confidently.
I scan her skimpy black and silver dress and the way it clings to her perfect figure. I bet men rarely tell her no. It’s evident that Zoey is used to getting whatever she wants.
Building Faith (Long Beach Series Book 2) Page 2
