Get Even

by Amanda Heath

  Nine months later Blake came into the world. He was all pink and squishy but I couldn’t stop my eyes from filling with tears and my heart from stopping because I have never seen anything so fucking gorgeous in my life. I even put my feelings for Farah away that day and forgot them for months because I had Sarah and my little man in my life. They were my everything and I never loved Sarah more because she gave me that little bundle.

  I wanted more kids though and so did she. Then the doctors told us it wasn’t possible without it being a risk to Sarah and the child. There were complications with Blake’s birth and it would only be worse with another baby.

  So Sarah went back on the pill and life went on. We were disappointed but it wasn’t the end of the world. We had Blake and he was fucking perfect.

  Then the worst thing happened. Sarah got pregnant again. I remember that day. They weren’t tears of sadness that day, they were because she was devastated. Mine were for anger because she wouldn’t go get rid of it. I knew her stance on abortion but why would she keep it when it was a risk to her life, it was a risk to the baby’s life? I didn’t really want her to have an abortion but I didn’t want to lose her either. She refused and all I could do was look on as my wife slowly got bigger and my fears got stronger. I would wake up in the middle of the night looking for her because I thought she was already gone.

  I couldn’t even be happy Tate finally screwed up with Farah so bad that she was done. I couldn’t be happy she was living with us and I took out my fear on her. I was mean and I couldn’t control it. I had to have an outlet and she’d always been mine. Love makes you do stupid things and hurt those you give the feeling to.

  When Sarah started bleeding I lost all will to live. I remember going to the hospital and I knew she wasn’t going to walk out. The doctor had kept telling us and Sarah had been on bed rest for most of the pregnancy.

  Then the doctor came out and said it looked good. I had hope for several hours but then I looked at Farah for the first time all night, and she was crazed. She was sitting there, rocking back and forth, tears leaking out of her eyes. I knew it; I knew my beloved wife was gone. Then they came in to tell us and I had to cling to Farah or I would drop dead to the floor.

  I had wished her existence away so many times because I couldn’t handle my love for her and being married to her sister. But for once, I was happy she was there because I truly needed her.

  My heart was ripped out of my chest and I couldn’t breathe for weeks. I had Farah and I had my son but this huge hole was in my heart and I couldn’t remember a time when I hurt that bad. Sarah was the love of my life. She was my everything, no matter what I felt for Farah. And then I was nothing.

  In the choice between twins, I should have chosen neither. Then maybe those girls would still have each other and I would be far away, living in misery while they were happy.

  Ten

  Farah

  I’m sitting on the front porch, sucking down smoke into my lungs from a cigarette when he pulls up. I’m rocking back and forth on the steps trying my best not to completely lose it. Sarah sits down next to me and her face contorts into a look of rage. I don’t blame her. I’m pretty fucking pissed off myself.

  I don’t know what he’s doing here and I really don’t care. I just want him to leave and go back to his wife. Or whatever the hell she is. They were separated when I lived with him this past year. I had thought it was over but it wasn’t. Not according to my sister.

  Tate stops in front of me and I keep my eyes on his black loafers that are getting covered in dust from the dirty driveway. His black slacks don’t fare much better and I wonder what the hell he was thinking wearing that out here.

  “Hey, doll face,” he says, putting his hands on his slim hips.

  I flinch at that nickname. I fucking hate it. I’ve always hated it, considering I’m nothing like a doll. My eyes are not vacant nor have they ever been. If you want to know the truth, Tate’s eyes are vacant. Probably because he has no soul.

  I grunt and watch Sarah stand up out of the corner of my eye. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at Tate even though he can’t see her. I’m seriously going through a mental break. Though, if Sarah were really here right now she would probably be doing the same thing.

  Though, she hurt me just as much as Tate did. Sarah’s reasoning was stupid but at least she had a reason. I can hurt you, but no one else can. Tate should never have come near me.

  He smoothes a hand down his face and lets out a deep breath. I roll my eyes. What did he expect? That I would open my arms to him and let him back into my life? If he did then he’s an idiot.

  Or am I the idiot? That saying goes, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. I never want to be a fool again.

  “Can you at least look at me? I have a lot I want to say to you,” he murmurs, holding his hand to his face and rubbing his jaw. He’s uncomfortable and I’m glad. He’s used to me attacking, always attacking. I’ve never just sat there and given him the cold shoulder.

  I lift my eyes slowly and it hurts. It hurts to look at him. My heart rips in my chest and I feel it start to bleed every single ounce of love I had for this man. It’ll be gone by the end of the day, bled away because I can no longer hold on to it. I can no longer love a man who would hurt me this way. Who would hurt my sister and his own brother this way.

  “Farah…fuck, I don’t even know where to begin,” he mutters, shuffling his feet around, kicking up dust that floats towards my nose.

  My left eye starts twitching but Tate doesn’t notice because he doesn’t know any better. He’s always been self-centered, never paying attention to what’s really going on around him. I guess we have that in common because there has been a lot going on around me and I haven’t noticed.

  My feet tap, tap, and tap against the bottom step as I feel rage start to take over the hurt. I’m going to blow, I think. I’m going to self implode, leaving nothing but ashes. Hopefully I take out the asshole in front of me.

  “I’m sorry I took off like I did. Max thought it was for the best and I stupidly listened to him. I love you still and I always will. I want you to know that.” That word coming out of his mouth is what does it. Love. What does Tate know of love?

  Not a fucking thing.

  I snap in seconds, no longer caring about anything he has to say. Now he’s going to listen to what I have to say. I stand up quickly, making Tate take a step back, his blue polo tightening around his shoulders. I raise my fist and punch him in the jaw as hard as I can. He drops like a ton of bricks, slamming into the ground in a satisfying crunch. I feel elated; I’m vibrating with the joy at watching him fall. He’s knocked out cold and I smile. It reaches both sides of my face and I couldn’t control it if I tried.

  I walk up the steps, leaving Sarah to watch over Tate. I grab the thin rope Pops keeps on a hook by the door for when one of the horses finds its way out of the fence. I run back to Tate and use the rope to tie his hands together. He’s facing down in the dirt so it’s easy. Then I grab his feet and slowly start to drag him towards the barn, which is fifty feet away.

  I laugh every time Tate hits a rock or a root, hoping he gets bruised and cut. I hope he bleeds a little. Sarah follows along with a huge smile on her face. It pretty much reflects how I feel right now.

  I know I’ve lost it, completely lost it. I don’t care though. I can only be pushed so much before I break.

  When I make it to the barn, I drop his feet and turn to open the door. Chickens cluck at me, storming out of the barn where they’ve been holed up all night. I pick Tate’s legs back up and drag him into the barn. He gets a little bit of chicken shit on his face and that makes me giggle. God, I hope his clothes are disgusting. He will freak out when he sees them. That’s Tate for you. Never a piece of hair out of place. Never a wrinkle on his clothes.

  What the hell did he ever see in me?

  What the hell did I ever see in him?

  I saw the pain in his eyes. I saw som
ething in him that I see when I look in the mirror. I thought we were the same kind of person but where my experiences made me a better person, they made Tate a worse person.

  I pull Tate over to the beat up leather chair Pops keeps in here to milk the cows. It has four legs and it’s sturdy. Just what I need to keep Tate immobile.

  “Girl, what the fuck are you doing?” Pops’ voice comes from the door of the barn and I let out a scream. I seriously didn’t hear him coming. Hell, I forgot he was even home.

  I drop Tate’s legs and turn to face Pops. His overalls are stained and his beard has a bit of spit tobacco in it. “I’m tying Tate to this chair. Then I might torture him a little.” I let out a crazy sounding laugh and it’s almost hard to stop. “I think I’ve lost my mind.”

  Pops nods at me and crosses the inside of the barn to where I’m standing next to Tate. He looks down at him and lets out a chuckle. “He’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up.” Then my eighty-year-old grandfather bends over and scoops Tate off the floor. He then sets him down in the chair and holds him up. “Come on, girl. This boy ain’t light.”

  I raise both eyebrows and hurry closer. I untie his hands and then use the rope to tie one wrist to the back of the chair. Then I hurry over to the wall of the barn where Pops has more rope. I use the rest of it to tie his other wrist and both his feet to the chair. Then Pops lets him go.

  Pops and I stand next to each other while Sarah stands next to Tate checking over his tied limbs. She looks at me and raises her thumbs. I shake my head at that. I think they are both crazier than me.

  “You can’t keep him out here too long though. That brother of his won’t be happy to find him like this. Not to mention his father.” He lifts a hand to scratch at his beard. “And don’t he have a wife somewhere?”

  I nod. “I’m not keeping him for long. I just want some answers,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. This Five Finger Death Punch shirt and jeans shorts is now my new lucky outfit. I’m probably going to wear it for the rest of my life because this is badass.

  “How the hell did you knock him out?” Pops asks, finally stopping the scratching. I hate the way it sounds.

  I look up at Pops and grin. “I used that punch you taught me after Sarah’s ex-boyfriend beat me up.”

  Pops lets out a gruff laugh and turns to leave the barn. “Well don’t make too much of a mess. We’d have to clear out all this hay to hide the blood, little bird.” Then he leaves, shutting the barn door behind him.

  I pull my phone out of my back pocket and walk over to the stereo I keep in here for those days I have to help with the animals. The aux cord still sits in the plug and I hook my phone to it. Then I scroll through my music and find the song that is simply perfect for this moment.

  “Sick Like Me” by In This Moment starts to blare out of the speaker. Luckily, that’s about the time Tate wakes up, blinking his eyes. I move my hips to the beat of the music while I walk towards him.

  When I reach him, he’s staring at me like he’s never seen me before. I guess that’s true. I’ve never been this way before. I’ve never felt so fucking free. I wonder if I could fly and be a little bird just like Pops says. That would be amazing.

  I see Tate trying to wiggle his wrists, trying to break the rope, but he won’t get anywhere. Pops makes that stuff himself. There’s no way he’s getting out of it.

  I plop down in his lap and move my hips against him to the beat of the song. I sing the words to him because they are fucking beautiful. He needs to hear them because he made me this way. Him mostly, but life had a hand in it too. Plus my crazy sister and my bitchy mother.

  Sarah stands behind Tate with a sick smile on her face while she looks down at Tate and me. I look up at her and grin. I’m doing what she said to do. I’m getting even and there’s not a damn thing Tate can do about it.

  His body responds to what my hips are doing, but I don’t care. I hope he gets so hard his dick bursts. I’m not turned on at all. My sex isn’t slick with want for him, for once in my life I’m free from the way he used to make me feel.

  I lean over his face and cup his cheeks. I bite at his lips while he fights me by trying to move his head back and forth. I laugh because he’s not going anywhere. I sing the final lyrics to the song right into his face and I hope he understands. I hope he gets it because this song is the perfect breakup song for us.

  “Blood” by In This Moment comes on next and I get up off Tate. This song is perfect too. The bass makes the speakers tick and Tate clenches his jaw. He hates my music, always has. The feeling is mutual because I can’t stand his music.

  I walk back to the stereo and turn the volume down so the music is only a whisper coming out. It’s time to get some answers now. It’s time to learn the truth about Tate and Max and Sarah and Me.

  I stand in front of my ex-boyfriend with my hands next to my hips and my fingers flexing and unflexing. I feel violent now. I want to slap him around, make him hurt, make him bleed but that’s the wrong thing to do right now. So instead I start talking.

  “I found a letter Sarah wrote me before she died. In that letter she made a few confessions, things I never saw coming. She wanted me to know the truth after she was gone because she knew I deserved to know.” I pause and look at Sarah who is still standing behind Tate. Tate notices, of course, because he doesn’t have anything else to do but look at me. I also find it weird he hasn’t said anything to me since he came to. I thought he would fight more, scream, rant, and rave, something other than just sitting there. “That’s why you’re here right now. That letter opened my eyes to a lot of things and now I want answers.”

  “What the fuck are you looking at?” Tate asks with a hint of menace in his voice. At least that tells me he’s angry. Good. I want him so pissed off all he can do is tell me the truth.

  No matter how crazy it makes me look, I tell him the truth. I want to show him how to be honest, which is something I don’t think he’s been a day in his life. “I’m looking at Sarah. She’s standing right behind you, Tatum.”

  His eyes widen and he dips his head all the way back but I know he won’t see her. He turns back so he’s looking at me with confusion in his eyes. “There’s no one there, Farah. Sarah is dead, you know this.”

  I nod my head because I do know this. “Duh, Tatum. I’ve been seeing her since the day she died. She’s been walking around haunting me.” I walk closer to him and bend in so my face is inches from his. “I’ve gone insane. Too much too fast will do that to a person. I’ve had to deal with you and losing her all in the past couple of months. I’m surprised it took me this long, actually.”

  He still looks at me with confusion and I roll my eyes. It’s not up to me to explain all the ways he’s driven me to this, how losing Sarah has driven me to this.

  “Do you…do you really think she’s there?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

  I roll my eyes again. “No, dumbass. She’s a figment of my imagination. It’s probably just my brain trying to help me grieve for her or some other dumb shit. I don’t talk to her if that’s what you’re thinking. I usually just ignore her, but right now, I’m happy she’s here. She gets to see me get even.” Then I smile and wink at him.

  I walk around in a circle in front of him shaking my hands out because I still have this urge to beat the shit out of him. That’s really not what I need to be doing right now.

  I don’t shake it all off but I do shake off the urge to pummel his face in. I move closer and lean over him. “I’m going to ask you some questions, okay? If you don’t answer them honestly I’m going to find something in this room to hurt you with.” I look around for something that is threatening but won’t make him bleed. I see a leather belt Pops uses to tie the horses to the corner so he can brush them. I walk over and grab it. If I hit him hard enough it will sting but it won’t leave a mark. Even if I hit him too hard it should only leave a welt.

  I make my way back to him and grab both ends of the belt. Then I scrunch
it together and then whip it apart, making a satisfying noise. Then I grin like a lunatic, which let’s face it, I am.

  “Let’s start with the night I met you and Max,” I say, pacing in front of him while keeping eye contact. “Did Max want me?” That’s a simple question to answer honestly.

  Tate swallows and I have a feeling he knows where this questioning is going. He nods his head slowly. I reach over and pat his head.

  “Good boy! Okay, next question.” I start to pace again, squinting my eyes at him. “Did you come on to me that night at the bar because Max wanted me?”

  Tate clenches his jaw and his shoulders tense up. He shakes his head. I stop in front of him and whip the belt out to land loudly on his thigh. He growls and then purses his lips. “Don’t fucking lie Tatum.”

  Tate moves his head back and forth on his neck, probably trying to crack it. Then he licks his lips and meets my eyes. “I wanted you too, Farah. I WANTED YOU TOO!” he bellows, thrashing against the ropes, almost knocking the chair over.

  I open my mouth to speak but I hear a car pull up outside. “Shit,” I mutter and move over to one of the windows that face the house. I see Max’s Eclipse out there and the man getting out of the driver’s side. “Fuck my life,” I sigh, putting the belt down.

  I walk to the barn door and turn my head to look at Tate. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.” Then I open the door and walk out.

  Max is about to knock on the front door when I call out his name. I’m not going to lie; it’s seriously awkward to see him after reading Sarah’s letter. When he turns though, my heart starts beating faster and faster. His brown hair is all over the place on his head. He has bags under his eyes and his shirt is wrinkled. His jeans are dirty and full of creases. Even his chucks aren’t tied.