“These eyes,” Tripp said, “have seen too much.”
“So have mine.”
Tripp nodded and his nostrils flared. I could tell he thought about everything I told him before. “It’s not fair to you, Scarlett.”
“I never said it was,” I said. “But it happened.”
“How many times?”
“A lot.”
“I hate the world for you right now,” Tripp said.
“Me too.”
“And it was string bean’s family?”
I nodded. “They all look alike, too. That’s why it just never happened with Andy and I. And never will, Tripp. Okay? Beyond what happened to me, it just would never happen. Because there’s times I look at Andy and I see his uncle.”
“Did he ever…” Tripp swallowed. “Did he ever… you know…”
“He touched,” I said, feeling the nightmare attempting to sink its claws into my chest. “That was it. Just touching. His finger, one time, came really close and I jumped. He told me if I did that again, he’d get me drunk so I couldn’t stop him. He told me when he would finish, he’d give me to my parents, showing them how I snuck booze all night and got drunk. It’d be my fault then.”
“It’s not your fault,” Tripp bellowed. “It never was and never will be. Goddamn… I want to kill someone right now.”
“Kill the voice in your head,” I said. “And tell me.”
Tripp lowered his head and reached for the bottle. He took the cap off and let it fall to the floor. He kicked it. It popped up on its side, rolled to the opening in the loft area, and fell to the concrete floor below. It bounced with a metal echo for a few seconds.
“The first time I heard it,” Tripp said, “I thought Tyler was cutting himself again.”
He looked up at me, his eyes different. They were empty. The pain right there, waiting to spill.
Tripp lifted his shirt and showed me the heart tattoo. He pointed to the initials - TS.
“Tyler. My brother.”
I nodded. Made sense.
“He used to cut himself. He was three years older than me. I caught him a few times in the bathroom with a knife, just cutting his arm and stuff. He did it with the water running so it sounded like he was taking a shower and so the blood would go down the drain. He told me it was okay. He liked the pain. And that he was preparing himself to get tattoos when he turned eighteen. He got his first tattoo when he was seventeen though.” Tripp smiled, his eyes glaring off. “So that night I heard him. I went into his room, wanting to tell him to just stop cutting himself. That’s when I saw my father standing over him, swinging. Again. And again. And again. Each fist connecting with Tyler’s shoulder, ribs, and one to the face. I connected all the dots then. Every time Tyler had some kind of bruise or cut, he told me it was from skateboarding or fooling around with his friends. Tyler was my hero… okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered. I moved towards Tripp, guiding him to the bed. I sat next to him.
“I believed anything he said. But that night, I realized what was happening. I had noticed it too, the way my father treated me. He pushed me. He elbowed me. He did anything to make me feel uncomfortable, but he never really went after me. When I tried to say something to Tyler, he told me to let it go, but I couldn’t. It burned in my head over and over. And when it happened again, I stormed the room, ready to help my big brother. I should have taken a knife and gutted my fucking father but I jumped on his back and tried hitting him. He threw me into Tyler’s wall and I lost my breath. Tyler jumped up and my father hit him. And from there, my father now had two punching bags. He had a command over us, Scarlett. A terrible command. The worst part was that our mother went along with it. She never stood up to him, for us, for herself. And we endured his fists, his belt, his words. The pure rage in his eyes and the growl of his voice. One night Tyler asked if we could just leave. If my father hated us that much, why not just let us leave?”
“Did you leave?” I asked.
Tripp took a breath. “No. He broke Tyler’s leg, showing us we weren’t allowed to leave. And it just got worse from there. When Tyler got his first tattoo and my father saw it, he stabbed Tyler with a pen. One morning at breakfast, I took the last piece of bacon without asking and he stabbed me with a fork. It’s just how it went… until… everything happened.”
I put my head on Tripp’s shoulder. I reached for his hand and squeezed. I could feel his pain, just as much as he could feel mine. I could live in a world of pain, as long as I had Tripp. We could survive anything together. We understood.
“Keep going,” I said. “Please, Tripp. Don’t stop.”
“You sound like you’re begging me for sex,” he said.
“Maybe I am.”
Tripp put a hand to the bed and then around me at my waist. His fingers played with my shirt for a few seconds as he pulled it and wasn’t satisfied until he felt my bare skin.
“Tyler had enough,” Tripp said. “So did I. We were going to do something about it. Stand up to him. We had it planned it out but it all got fucked up. My father knew and it just… exploded. We couldn’t hurt him. He had us. So Tyler got away. He got to the front door and my father told him that if he left, he’d never come back. Ever.”
Tripp looked at me. “Tyler apologized to me for leaving but swore he’d come back for me. I believed him and took the beating that night with pride. Every hit, kick, and punch I told myself was one step closer to being with Tyler. I pictured Tyler coming to get me and we could live a normal life. But that never happened. The beating ended and Tyler never came.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Where did he go?”
“To his hiding spot,” Tripp said. “To a field with a single tree. Where he killed himself.”
I gasped and felt like I had been shot in the heart.
Tripp nodded. “He had no choice. There was no other choice. He wanted all the pain, all the blame, and he did what he had to do.”
“Oh, Tripp…”
I touched his face. My hand moved to the back of his neck. I pulled, wanting to taste him. To savor his pain. Our lips touched and we lingered close. A tear fell from Tripp’s eye and I watched it run down his cheek.
“I don’t hate him for it,” Tripp whispered. “But tonight was the night it all happened, and tomorrow… that’s when he was found, dead.”
I took the bottle from Tripp’s hand and took a drink for myself. Then I handed the bottle to him. He drank.
“You can’t do this all the time,” I said. “Every year. Not for days at a time, Tripp.”
“I know that,” Tripp said. “Each year I tell myself I’ll stop. I’ll just go to his grave and let it go. But I don’t. I drink until I’m numb and then the day after it all, the pain goes away.”
“Go to his grave then,” I said. “Face it.”
“Tomorrow,” Tripp said.
“I’ll come,” I said. “If you want.”
“Of course,” Tripp said. “You’re the most important person I’ve ever met, Scarlett. You get it. You really get it.”
“I do,” I said. “What happened to your parents?”
“I left after everything happened. Only for a little while but when I came back they had moved. Sold the house and moved. Told everyone the pain and memory of Tyler was too much to bear. I stayed though. I moved in with my grandparents, told them everything, and they swore I’d never be hurt again. When I turned eighteen, I left to go to California to start a new band but it failed. I ended up back here within a month… and when I got back, I found Tatum and Logan sitting in the garage, still writing music. They knew I’d be back.”
“So, this garage…”
“It’s mine,” Tripp said. “The house too. My grandparents passed away two years ago and left me the house. That’s why I don’t live on campus. I don’t want to. And now with the band being popular, it’s strange. People recognizing us, following us, wanting us.”
“I don’t want the band,” I said, “just you.”
&nb
sp; Tripp smiled. “You say that now.”
“So the tattoos are Tyler?”
Tripp nodded. “The heart with his initials. The hands are our hands, when we were teenagers and it all started. The black angel wings… those are his wings. I believe he found his peace, even though it was done through something so dark.”
Tripp was a poetic, beautiful, strong man.
I put my head to his shoulder, unsure how to feel. It seemed strange to feel relieved, but I did. I shared my pain, Tripp shared his. We knew it all and nothing could stop us then. I still hadn’t told him I loved him but I knew the feelings lingered in the air.
I closed my eyes and felt the urge to finish telling all our truths. I didn’t want to think of Tripp as the hopeless rockstar he appeared to be. I believed he was capable of loving and being loved. If anything, I’d give him my heart to prove it.
I opened my mouth and before a sound could come out, I heard a loud thudding sound. Someone banging on the garage door. It opened and when I heard the voices start, my heart sank.
My moment of love was ripped away.
“Who the fuck is that?” Tripp asked.
I looked at him. “It’s Andy.”
24
We stood near the drums and as much as I wanted to be close to Tripp and have his arms around me, I didn’t want to fuel the fire burning. Andy was always calm, always the collected one, until it came to Tripp. He had already punched him in the face once and I didn’t want anything to happen again.
Not with Tripp drunk.
Not with Tripp feeling the way he felt.
It still rang in my mind that Tripp said he wanted to kill someone…
“String bean, what’s up, bro?” Tripp called out.
Andy stared daggers at Tripp.
I looked at Tripp and saw the way Tripp’s face changed. He looked at me, then to Andy. I knew what he was doing. Making the connection. Remembering how I said Andy and his uncle looked alike.
Tripp took a step and I jumped forward.
“Wait a second,” I said. “What are you doing here, Andy?”
“Maggie told me,” Andy said.
That’s when I noticed Maggie near the door. She was hiding in the corner, biting her nails, looking scared as anything.
“Scarlett…,” Maggie called out.
“What do you want?” I asked Andy.
“Just to talk to you for a second,” Andy said. “Please. In private.”
I looked at Maggie and she pushed from the wall and hurried towards me. Tatum and Logan were back to their stools, holding guitars. They absorbed everything, almost loving the drama.
“Scarlett, don’t be mad at me,” Maggie said. She took my hand and pulled at me. I walked with her behind the drum set but kept my eyes on Tripp and Andy.
Tripp drank from his vodka bottle and Andy stood with his arms crossed. The tension in the room was like a thick fog. Like a bomb ready to go off at any second. The wrong look, the wrong word, the wrong breath… it would go off.
“Do you hate me?” Maggie whispered.
“No,” I said. “But you brought Andy here…”
“He showed up at the apartment and begged me. I figured this would be the way to do it. One shot.”
“Tripp is drunk,” I said. “And he just told me some stuff… he’s in a dark place right now.”
“Just go talk to Andy for a second and then I’ll take him home.”
“Fine,” I said. “You owe me one.”
“I promise. I have to talk to you too. We didn’t get to talk before…”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
Maggie nodded, a complete lie, but I accepted it.
“Andy, let’s go outside and talk,” I said. I looked at Tripp. “Don’t do anything stupid. Go write a song or something.”
“A good one,” Andy said. “Not that shit you guys play at the bars.”
“Fuck you,” Logan said.
Tatum put an arm out. “Let him go.”
“Yeah, let him go,” Tripp said. “Want to come sucker punch me in the face again?”
“Should have been looking,” Andy said.
“I was too busy looking at Scarlett, wondering how someone so beautiful could be with a tall prick like you.”
“That’s enough,” I said as I moved towards Andy.
“Then I realized why she can’t be with you,” Tripp said.
I spun around and pointed at him, but it was too late. Drunk Tripp was honest Tripp. And sober Tripp was honest Tripp too. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and there was no stopping him.
“Why’s that, smart ass?” Andy asked.
“Because you look like your deadbeat uncle,” Tripp said.
Maggie gasped.
I had nothing to offer.
“My uncle…”
“Yeah, the one that’s dead,” Tripp said. “Rightfully so, after what he did to Scarlett. No wonder you like her, string bean, you and your uncle have the same thing in common. Touching Scarlett.”
Andy looked at me as the tears came to my eyes. I wanted to hate Tripp but I first had to deal with Andy.
“What the fuck is he talking about?” Andy bellowed.
“Take it outside,” Maggie said. “Right now.”
Maggie took the reigns and forced Andy and I out of the garage. She shut the door and it was just Andy and I. Out in the dark, which felt ironic, because, everything was about to come out of the dark and into the light.
“What did he mean?” Andy asked.
“Andy, please,” I said. “Why are you here?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see you. I wanted to know about last night…”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“About last night?”
“No. I’m not sorry about it. At all. That was meant to happen between us. It had been building for years. But it was one time. That’s it.”
“I’m a hookup?” Andy asked.
He sighed and turned around. He slipped his hands into his pockets and started to pace. I saw him eyeing Tripp’s car and then he walked to it, laughing.
It wasn’t a happy laugh.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“The car. The sticker.” He pointed to the DownCrash sticker. “I never stood a chance, did I?”
“Andy…”
“He was at your apartment that morning.” Andy looked at me. “Did you sleep with him? And then go out to breakfast with me?”
“I’m not answering that,” I said.
“So you fucked Tripp and then, what, decided to try me out?”
“We didn’t…”
“Doesn’t matter,” Andy growled. “Close enough. Scarlett, I love you… I…”
“Do you? Do you really? Why?”
Andy’s mouth opened and he shook his head. “I just do. We’ve been together so long. Through so much. I helped you.”
“You cared for me,” I said. “You’re like a brother to me. We’re not meant to be together.”
“What did my uncle do?” Andy asked.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” I tried to avoid the topic.
“What did my uncle do?” Andy asked again.
“Andy…”
“Tell me right now.”
I sighed and let it all spill out. Beginning to end, the nightmarish details, even right down to how Andy looked like his uncle. By the time I was done, Andy hung his head and sobbed. I’d never seen him really cry before. I stood frozen for a few seconds, nervous about what to do next. I finally walked to him and hugged him.
“No,” he said. “Don’t touch me, Scarlett.”
“I will,” I said. “Like we always did before. I can’t lose you, Andy. You’re too important to me. But I can’t give you my heart.”
“Because he has it,” Andy said, looking to the DownCrash sticker again.
He swung his foot and kicked Tripp’s car.
“Don’t…”
He kicked again. Then again. He star
ted to scrape his shoe against the sticker, trying to rip it.
“HEY!” a voice screamed.
I turned and saw Tripp holding the garage door open.
“Tripp, stay away,” I called.
“Back the fuck up,” Tripp yelled.
“Fuck you,” Andy screamed. He kicked the car again.
I watched as Tripp grabbed a broken piece of brick and looked for Andy’s car.
“No!” I cried.
Tripp’s arm went back just as Logan grabbed his wrist. He spun Tripp around and Tripp pushed him. Maggie appeared from nowhere, looking shocked and scared. I grabbed at Andy’s shirt, begging him to just stop.
“You could have had a good life,” Andy said, spitting fire at me. “A good life with me. But, what, you want this? A drunk mess? Just like his family. His brother was the lucky one…”
I readied to scream at Andy, maybe even slap him, I wasn’t sure. But before anything could happen, I saw Tatum out of the corner of my eye. He already had a fist cocked. There was nothing I could do.
Tatum’s fist connected with Andy’s cheek. He managed to miss Andy’s glasses but sent Andy to the ground. He moved over Andy and had a handful of his shirt. He was ready to swing again and this time, I stopped him.
“Tatum… please don’t,” I said.
Tatum looked at me with his lip snarled. “He can’t say things like that… he doesn’t fucking know…”
“I know,” I said. “This is my fault. All my fault.”
Tatum backed away and went back to Tripp and Logan. I looked back at the band - DownCrash - then I looked to Maggie. And finally, down at Andy.
What the hell had I done?
What had I created here?
All because I wanted to follow my heart. I didn’t ask Andy to tell me he loved me. I didn’t ask for Andy’s uncle to do what he did. And I certainly didn’t ask for Tripp to be the one to make me understand love.
“I’m sorry for everything,” I said.
Andy sat up and touched his cheek. He winced and looked at Tatum. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been like that. Like this. It’s not fair to anyone.”
I helped Andy up and he brushed the dirt and gravel off himself.
“Just go home,” I whispered. “We can talk tomorrow.”
“Scarlett, there is no tomorrow.” Andy touched my face. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I’m leaving tonight, for Maine.”
The Stronger, Safer Kind (The Boys of DownCrash #1) (new adult contemporary rockstar romance) Page 15
