by Vivien Vale
Of course, the knob twists but is unyielding. I have two choices here: I could break the door down, further inflicting damage to this house, or I could call out to Chantal inside.
I opt for option two. Perhaps I can put my negotiation skills to the test and try to persuade Chantal to cooperate.
“Chantal?”
My voice booms like a crashing wave to the shore. At first, there’s no response from the other side of the door. It’s like fucking crickets in a pasture.
Nothing. Zilch. Only silence.
“Chantal?” I call out again, this time using a more threatening tone.
I hear a thump inside, and a female voice whispers, “Shit.”
I press my ear to the door and frantically wiggle the doorknob. “Chantal, I know you’re in there. It’s Carter. I need to talk to you. Open this fucking door right now.”
So much for trying to coax her like a fly to honey. My frustration and fury are getting the better of me.
I lean back as I feel the door handle give way beneath my white-knuckled death grip.
The door creaks open with timid trepidation and, finally, I’m face to face with a very doped-up Chantal.
My eyes immediately trail down to her belly, which I notice is not swollen with a baby but remains flat as a board.
Well, this is just fucking great, the icing on the cake. Chantal is most definitely not pregnant.
Her eyes have dark circles under them, and her pupils are wildly dilated with a manic expression.
Her cheeks are sunken in and hollow, and her skin looks so pale that it’s almost gray.
“Carter!” She wails and throws herself at me, wrapping her scrawny, stringy arms around my neck.
“Get off me,” I say in revulsion and try to swipe her away.
“I missed you, baby,” she whispers in my ear, and her breath is absolutely rancid.
Cringing, I recoil and stiffen my body, hoping that she’ll take the hint. I don’t want to knock her through a wall like I did to her little friend at the front door.
I couldn’t want Chantal any less. I’m pretty sure that I’d opt to fuck a caked-in-dirt ape in the woods over Chantal right now, or at any time for that matter.
“You aren’t pregnant,” I state coldly.
She searches my eyes, hunting frantically for something. “Put a baby in me. Right here, right now.” She takes my hand and presses it to her pussy, and I instinctively shove away from her.
“No, stop.”
“Lawrence will never know the difference,” she hisses with a malicious smile on her face.
I wonder if it’s the drugs talking and consuming every asinine thought in her brain.
“What are you talking about?” I demand, pinning Chantal against the wall as she wiggles and squirms, grinning like a crazy woman.
“You’re the same person, you and Lawrence, right? Twins. Identical at that.” Her sneer lets me know she’s trying to get a rise out of me.
I have to maintain control of my emotions. She’s not going to win this battle. Not now, not ever.
The thought of people not being able to tell a difference between Lawrence and myself is my biggest fear, something that keeps me up at night.
Something captures my attention from my peripheral vision. It’s a dark figure, looming near and swiftly approaching the place where I stand, clutching Chantal’s wrists against the wall.
It’s the drug dealer. Well, this is just fucking fantastic. As if I need more drama from wasted humans all around me.
“Is everything cool over here?”
He seems to have retrieved a fresh batch of confidence from somewhere, probably via a needle in his arm.
I take my hands off Chantal and stand so close to the drug dealer that I can feel the heat of his breath on my cheek. He’s significantly shorter than me.
He holds up his hands defensively. “Hey, man, I don’t mean any harm.”
I shove my hand in my pocket and pull out my wallet. I take several crisp and fresh hundred-dollar bills and toss them to the junkie in front of me.
It’s all the cash I have on me, and I have no fucking clue what Chantal might owe this prick. I’m not really here to settle her debts, but it’s a step in the right direction at least.
“Listen to me very carefully.” I stand broodingly over the asshole and narrow my eyes in on him with dark aggression. “Never sell drugs to Chantal ever again. If I hear about it, next time, I’ll throw you through the fucking wall and make sure you never wake up.”
It’s an empty threat. I don’t really plan on murdering this piece of seaweed, but I have to make him think I’m totally serious about carrying out the act.
“Of course.” He holds his hands up again and chuckles nervously. “In fact, I can do you one better, man. I’ll make sure no fucking dealer I know on the street will ever sell to her again. I’m talking the whole east coast.” He gestures fanatically with his hands, then laughs. “Bitches be trippin’ all the time, am I right, homie?”
I glare at him. “I’m not your homie.”
“Right, of course…my bad, dude.” The dealer steps aside to let me through as I take smoldering struts back to the front door.
If I have to spend another single fucking second in this hellhole, I might just snap.
It’s only when I re-enter the atmosphere of fresh sunlight and the normal world outside that I remember where I’m supposed to be right now.
Shit. I am very fucking extremely late for a doctor’s appointment with June. She’s going to be even more enraged than I was back in the dealer’s house.
I jump into my car and speed down the street, tires screeching for at least half a mile down the road.
I’m like a race car driver on a mission to the clinic, knowing in the depths of my heart that I’m failing June with disappointment by not being by her side to hold her hand.
She’s new to all this and needs somebody by her side to help her through the scary parts. And I can’t believe I’m blowing the opportunity to see my child on an ultrasound screen for the first time.
Suddenly, I realize I’ve wasted too much time on Chantal, and now I’m paying the price for it. It’s a cruel punishment I’ve inflicted on myself by not being there, and now, I’ve missed out on every part of the milestone doctor visit.
When I arrive in the parking lot next to the clinic, I discover that things are even worse than I imagined.
To my horror, a torturous scream wails inside my mind and it’s all I could do to close it and prevent the siren sound from escaping my throat at full throttle.
I watch with dread as Lawrence presses June up against his car. They are kissing. Their faces are pressed together, and I’m going bat shit fucking crazy on the inside.
Lawrence is the first to notice me walking towards them, my fists clenched at my sides and my head reeling with fresh fury.
My brother locks eyes with me, and that’s when I notice the flicker of mischief hiding in his dark features.
It’s obvious that he was kissing June on purpose to get under my skin.
Guess what, twin brother? Your little act succeeded, and I’m fucking furious.
Chapter 32
June
This can’t be real.
The sensation of Lawrence’s lips…no, not Carter’s lips, but…
No, this can’t be real. But I know it is, because the feel of Lawrence’s lips pressing forcefully on my own is too repulsive to be a dream or a hallucination.
My imagination could never come up with something this horrid. Only a gruesome, ghastly reality would present something so sickening as Lawrence—a wolf in his brother’s clothing—shoving his dry, grotesque lips onto my own.
This whole appointment was already going so far off the rails, with Carter not even coming with me or showing up and now…
Gathering every bit of strength I can muster, I reach up and push against Lawrence’s shoulders, trying to get him as far away from me as possible. If only I could launch him
up through the garage ceiling and straight into the sun.
But I can’t even get him to budge an inch, and his awful lips are still on mine.
He tightens his grip on me as his tongue probes my mouth, but I’m quick to put the kibosh on that. I press my lips firmly shut and push even harder. Get the hell off me!
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
I hear Carter’s voice echoing through the parking lot.
Oh, thank god. My savior is here.
“Hey bro, what’s it look like to you? I’m kissing June. I can see why you couldn’t wait to make her yours.” Lawrence winks at Carter, and I swear I can see steam pouring out of Carter’s ears.
He yanks Lawrence away from me by his collar and decks him soundly. Lawrence goes flying back and collapses on the pavement.
I run to Carter’s side with a mix of relief and residual repulsion surging through me.
I can still feel those creepy hands touching me. One thing’s for sure: I’ll need a scalding hot shower—or five—after this whole ordeal.
“I know you’re a fucking dirtbag.” Carter nods at Lawrence, who’s now propped up on one elbow, cradling his jaw. “But what’s your excuse?”
Carter reels around to face me, his blue eyes colder than I’ve seen them; just icy with hurt, betrayal, and anger as he stares me down.
I’m stunned. I never thought he’d turn on me. Anyone with eyes must’ve been able to see that I was not enjoying that in any sense of the word.
The shock and revulsion I was feeling is quickly turning into my own hurt and anger.
“My excuse? Really?” I laugh.
My laugh is not out of amusement or any sort of mirth. This laugh is a result of being flat-out gobsmacked.
Is he really asking me this?
Is he really accusing me of this?
Because it seems like he’s doing exactly freaking that.
Goodness. I’m almost ready to swear—in my head, at least.
“Yeah, your excuse. For pawing at my brother.”
“Okay, first of all, Carter. He was pawing at me. In case you missed me desperately trying to shove him away.”
“What is he even fucking doing here?”
“He came into the appointment! I thought he was you!”
Carter’s face is falling into sadness. His pain is clear.
But in the blink of an eye, he’s back to being calm and collected.
On the surface at least. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him clenching and unclenching his fists. That’s when I noticed the bruises on his knuckles.
It couldn’t be from punching Lawrence just now. There was way too much bruising for that.
“What happened to your hand?” I gesture, reaching for him. Carter yanks his hand away before I could touch it.
“None of your fucking business,” he growls at me. “So you thought Lawrence was me, huh? After all we’ve shared, you should at least be able to tell us apart by now! Instead, you let him corner you and plant one on your mouth like you’re his fucking woman!”
“Well, honestly, bro, maybe she thought this was the perfect time to jump ship and was interested in taking a little test-drive first. Not like I can knock her up any more than she already is.”
Lawrence laughs at his own repugnance. He’s not even trying to get himself up off the ground.
This is so not the time for your bullshit, Lawrence.
Okay, so now I’m freaking swearing inside my head. I’m keeping them to myself…for now. For crying out loud—I knew he was an ass, but I’m becoming painfully aware of just how much of an ass he really is.
“Is that right? Maybe you didn’t really mistake us at first. Maybe you really wanted to see which of us twins is the better fuck before walking down the aisle.”
Alright, I’ve had just about enough of this.
No need to hold back now, Junebug. Get him.
“You think I fucking wanted this?! No, I wanted you!”
His eyes go wide at my outburst. It’s not like me to cuss, especially like this, but with the intense jumble of emotions running through me right now I can’t stop myself from shouting.
“But you were too busy to be here, isn’t that right? You were too busy to see our baby, your baby, for the first time. For all you wax poetic about wanting to be a good dad and a good support system, you’re off to a shitty fucking start!”
My chest is burning with anger, the rage starting to boil over at this point. Does he really think for one gosh-darn moment that I wanted his brother? Is his head stuck that far up his ass that he’s not seeing how much that accusation hurts me?
“And besides,” I continue, “I wouldn’t have mistaken Lawrence for you if I wasn’t so stressed out of my mind about you not being here. You know, like you promised you would be.”
“That’s—”
“So, if there’s anyone to blame for me supposedly jumping ship, it’s you!”
With a furious fling, I toss the ultrasound image at him, letting it flutter in the air in front of his face.
The first ever image of the very fruit of our love-making, the child he so desperately wanted, yet he couldn’t even make the time to be here with me.
Sure, it may look like nothing other than a black and white blob on a piece of photo paper, but it’s still our child.
After what he’s been through, I thought he would at least understand the significance, the weight, and the meaning of this moment.
“You know what?” I look him right in the eyes, feeling the warm prickling of coming tears. My voice is shaky, but I don’t care. “I thought we were something special, that we had something special. But this, this proves the real, ugly truth.
“It was never anything more than a contract to you. If it meant anything more than that, you’d have been here, come hell or high water. Instead, you made it possible for Lawrence to swoop in and act like the ass-hat he is. You and him? You’re exactly the same. You’re both assholes.”
Not looking back, I just turn to walk away.
“I’m done, Carter!” I yell, just to make certain things are crystal-freaking-clear.
I’m not looking in his direction anymore. I’m looking straight ahead, although I really have no idea where the heck I’m going to go next.
Without much thought I turn a corner, out of Carter and his asshole twin brother’s lives. I just walk away from this terrible phase in my life, when two women step out.in front of me. I have no idea where they’ve come from.
I watch as they head for a car, arm in arm, looking so happy.
“Excuse me!” I holler at them and take off in their direction.
The two ladies look at me blankly. Both are very visibly pregnant, but they both look overjoyed.
That’s how I should’ve been today.
That’s how we should’ve been today.
Instead, I’m left reeling from this sudden, horrible turn everything has taken.
There’s no joy. There’s only betrayal.
And utter emptiness.
“How can we help you?” One of the women asks.
“Could I grab a ride with you? Please?” I’m doing more talking than thinking, but right now, all I want is to get out of here.
“Sure, but we’re heading to the airport.”
The airport.
Yeah, I think it’s high time I went back home.
“That’s just fine with me.”
I hear a noise behind me. I glance back. It’s him.
Carter’s eyes are on me as I walk to their car. I can feel his gaze upon me.
But right now, I don’t give a damn. He made his bed, he can lie in it.
I have a baby to take care of, and I’ll be damned if I can’t do it alone.
Chapter 33
Carter
Things around me are spinning out of fucking control.
Nothing is in focus. It’s like I’m looking at the world through an out-of-focus camera lens.
My left foot kicks
at a rock on the ground, and I watch it scatter across the parking lot.
It doesn’t make me feel any fucking better—but what did I expect from kicking a tiny fucking rock?
Maybe if I could lift a boulder and throw it like Hercules high up into the sky and watch it crash back down onto Earth, I might feel a little better.
Okay, maybe not.
There’s so much anger in me right now. I need to do something. For a second, I stop in front of a car and look at it.
Is this random vehicle a worthy opponent? I doubt it.
Metal is too soft for someone as angry as me.
Instead, I stride over to the edge of the building.
Once I reached the outer wall, where there’s a sign with a large red arrow pointing toward the hospital entrance, I stop.
My eyes zero in on the wall.
I take a massive swing.
I don’t aim for the fucking sign. No, I aim for the goddamn motherfucking wall.
And I fucking connect.
Yet I feel nothing.
Millions of fucking dynamite sticks are exploding in me. Just fucking tons, kilotons of explosive, uncontrollable emotion is raging through every fiber of my goddamn being.
My vision is fucking red, and I have nowhere to direct any of this shit.
How could I have been so fucking stupid?
Without thinking, my fist punches right into that fucking wall again. Blood is now trickling down my knuckles, but at the moment, I’m not inclined to give one goddamn fuck about that shit.
My gaze zeros in on the decent-sized crack I’ve made in the wall’s white surface.
It’s just still not e-fucking-nough.
There is no outlet for me. Nothing.
I’ve been the biggest fucking dick on the planet.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The realization that I’ve lost June hits me harder than I can hit the wall.
And I’ve got no one to blame but myself. I’ve been a fucking idiot.
From my meeting with Lawrence in that sleazy bar to the ultrasound appointment, I should have seen it coming.
It was obvious. What’s wrong with me? I’m just like my father…and Lawrence.
Maybe I can just blame this on bad genes?
What a weak fucking way to deal with the whole fucking situation.
