Chapter 13
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Andrew
After finishing some overdue homework, I put away my notebook and drag the stool over to the wooden easel that sits by the window. Glancing outside, I notice sunlight starting to peek over the tops of the pine trees and I experience a rare moment of tranquility. As I whistle the tune of “Don’t Fear the Reaper” by Blue Oyster Cult, I drag cerulean paint across a white canvas.
Dipping the brush into the paint, I think back to the first time I discovered my art could become more than just a hobby. Two years ago. I was dumbfounded when one of my paintings won first place in a competitive art contest. I won a cash prize, was featured in a prestigious gallery, and had a two-page spread in a popular magazine. My career as an artist was born.
Aside from winning, the most shocking part of it all was learning I had been entered in the contest. At the time, all I cared about was staying cooped up in my office with a paintbrush and my rage. Without my knowledge, Marybeth submitted one of my darkest pieces. I didn’t find out about what she did until I got the call that I’d won. For the first time in, well, ever, I was thrilled by her meddling.
She helped me get set up online, and not even a week had passed before a celebrity shared one of my paintings he had hanging on his wall. Needless to say, my social media blew up. I’m not famous by any stretch of the imagination, but every day my work gets a little more recognition.
It wasn’t until I was drowning in despair and fury that my artwork evolved into something raw and provocative. I suppose in some twisted way, Tessa is to thank for my success. Instead of flipping burgers while I get my business degree, I get paid to do what I love, to create new worlds with the stroke of a brush. Although I sell quite a few canvases through a local gallery, business started picking up when I began selling digital copies through my website. People buy up prints like crazy to hang in their homes or use for book covers.
Grunting with frustration, I try to steady my shaking hand that’s failing to create a straight line. With a sigh, I give up. Trying to focus on this—on anything—is impossible right now.
On one hand, I am embracing the idea of a fresh start with Tessa. Our history is murky and fucked up, and I don’t know how to move past my anger, but after everything. . . how can I just give up? There’s something undeniable in her ocean eyes that tugs at me. As much as I want to deny it, she’s still rooted deep in my heart.
On the other hand, I want to ram my head into a wall for thinking it was a good idea to ask her out on a date. In a knee jerk reaction, I dumped Lilah and asked out the woman who left my heart in bits and pieces.
I can’t even blame this one on the brain damage, or the booze. I knew exactly what I was doing, but I can’t seem to stop my walls from crashing down every time she’s near. When she’s close, my chest tightens and my heart does backflips. I crave her lips when she bites them in uncertainty, and her ocean eyes mesmerize me until I can’t look away. And I still adore that damn scowl on her face when she’s mad.
My heart is made up of two halves that don’t quite fit together anymore. One side is mangled and ugly, full of rage and hatred. The other side lights up whenever I see her, wanting nothing more than to forgive the past and make her mine.
If my personality literally splits into two people, it will be Tessa Kinsley’s fault.
The doorbell chiming throughout the house shakes me out of my thoughts. Who the hell would be stopping by this early in the morning? Jogging down the stairs and past the living room, I peek through the peephole in the door and see the last person on earth I want to see.
Great, this ought to be good.
Swinging open the door, Chase storms past me in a whirlwind of accusations before I can get out a word of protest.
He jabs at my chest. “You! You did this. Now you’re going to undo this.”
I smack away his finger and close the door behind him. “What the hell are you talking about?” I snap. It’s way too early for this shit, he’s lucky my sister is in class right now or he would have woken the demon. Everyone thinks she’s all cute and cuddly until they experience her before she’s had her morning coffee.
“Oh, don’t act all surprised and innocent, you know what you did.” He glares at me over his shoulder as he paces back and forth across the living room.
Although he’s acting like the pissy teenager I remember, it doesn’t cease to amaze me how much he’s changed. It’s not just the fact that he’s bulked up either. No longer is his face covered in piercings, and not a single inappropriate saying has been on one of his shirts. Even his hair looks less wild.
It’s a trip, reminding me again just how much we’ve all grown up.
Chase stops pacing long enough to narrow his eyes at being ignored. “What? You pleading the fifth, dick weed?”
The term “grown up” might be a bit of a stretch in his case.
Crossing over to the fridge, I take out two beers and hold one out to him. “Man, I gotta be honest, I have no idea what you’re talking about. How about you slow down for a second and clue me in.” He eyes the bottle suspiciously, but snatches it from my hand and pops off the cap.
Chase downs half the bottle in one gulp. “Little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”
“Didn’t seem to stop you.” I smirk.
He takes a second to consider it, then shrugs in agreement. “Touché.”
“You gonna tell me why you’re here or what?” I prod.
He groans as if remembering himself. “This little date today is going to be a nightmare.”
“And what does my date with Tessa have to do with you?”
He lets out a harsh laugh. “Oh, she didn’t tell you? It’s now a double date. Get this pretty picture in your skull—you, Reap, me, oh, and your sister. Sounds real romantic, huh?” He deadpans.
“Hell no, since when?”
“Since she’s scared to death of being alone with you.” I want nothing more than to smack that ‘duh’ look right off his face.
“Do you ever make sense?” I sigh as I lean back against the counter.
“She spent the past four years trying to get over you, and when she sees you again, you throw a fit and tell her to get lost. Then wham, out of nowhere you get all sexed up and ask her out on a date? Yeah, she’s freaking out big time.”
“I’m sorry, but did you just refer to me as “sexed up”?” I blanch.
“You look like you stepped out of an Abercrombie and Fitch magazine. If I was a girl, I’d bang you.” He winks, making me gag.
“Don’t be saying shit like that, I almost threw up.”
He laughs, looking pleased with himself for rousing a reaction out of me. “Calm down, I already have the better version of you, plus tits.” He darts to the left just as a roll of paper towels goes whizzing past his face.
“I will kill you Chase, don’t fucking play with me,” I threaten, but he only wiggles his eyebrows and grins. “Are we seriously going on a double date?” I groan, remembering the reason for this ‘fun’ little visit.
“She just needs some back up, she hasn’t been on a date in. . . fuck, Drew, I don’t think she’s ever been on a real date. I mean there was the Spring Fling of course, but that doesn’t count, and I know she sure as shit didn’t date when we lived in the city.”
I scoff in disbelief. “There’s no way she hasn’t dated anyone in all this time.”
“Nada. So, as I was saying, this is a big deal for her. Honestly, if you guys don’t work this shit out, I don’t know if she will ever let her guard down long enough to be in a real relationship. She’s just—there’s too much damage there, man.” His pained voice resonates deep in my bones.
“What about you? She’s let you in,” I point out.
“Me and Tessa? We are just two birds of the same fucked up feather,” he chuckles as though remembering something. “I can relate to the toll that years of abuse causes. We are similar in a lot of ways that’s all. Well that and I happened to be in the right place at the right time. . .” He trails off, eyes darting away in regret.
“Wrong place, wrong time,” I growl, my knuckles turning white from my grip on the kitchen counter.
He gives me a cautious look. “I thought we were cool?” He sighs. “Are we gonna do this?”
My fist wrenches free and slams down on the countertop. “We were cool, except every time I look at your face, I’m reminded of the fact that you were the one who took her away from me,” I snarl.
“Yeeep, we’re doing this.”
“It’s not a f—fucking game, Chase, how could you do that to me?” I stiffen. My muscles clench as an all too familiar rage begins working its way through my body.
“Look, I’m sorry for leaving, and I’m sorry for taking her with me, but she needed me. I told you that.” His eyes plead for me to understand, but a red ooze of hatred trickles across my vision.
“What about me? P—put aside for one goddamn minute that you stole my girl. You knew I got b—beat to shit. You were supposed to be my best friend, and you just f—fucking left me lying in the dirt?” I bellow as fury consumes me. I tremble, my fingers twitching with the desire to hurt something, anything.
Chase’s eyes widen as he regards the rapid change in my demeanor. I’m losing control and I’m losing it fast. I can’t do anything to stop it.
“Drew, I fucked up, I know that now, man. I was just a stupid kid and it was fucking selfish. I’m truly sorry. You have to believe me.”
“LIAR!” I lunge forward, fist cocked back. Guilt, shame, and worry are scrawled across his features, but he doesn’t move a muscle. His eyes close and he relaxes, resigning himself to getting punched in the face. With a roar, I change direction at the last second and put my fist through the cabinet door an inch away from his left ear. The wood splinters and tears through my skin.
Like water to a flame, the rage is distinguished by the pain.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Chase mutters as he comes up from behind me to inspect the damage. I pull out my hand with a grunt and proceed to yank out the larger shards of wood one by one.
“So, uh. That’s new.” Chase raises a concerned eyebrow at me as droplets of blood fall to the tiles.
“I’m seeing a therapist. I’ve got it under control.” I yank out a dish towel and wrap my hand in it, cringing when a few splinters are thrust deeper into my skin.
He snorts. “Clearly.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“You got tweezers somewhere?” he asks as he rifles through random drawers in the kitchen.
“Bathroom, medicine cabinet, up the stairs and to the right.” I move to the living room and let my body sink into the couch. This is the worst part. When the storm rolls away, I’m left with the fallout. Physical or emotional damage, sometimes both. I’m helpless against it. It comes out of nowhere and can be set off by anything. The lights click out and I lose all sense of rationality.
I have the memories of my childhood, of Tessa back. . . but at what cost?
Chase comes bursting back into the living room like a man on a mission and takes a seat next to me. “Okay, Hulk, let me see that hand.” He snaps the tweezers open and shut, holding his hand out for mine.
“I can do it myself jus—”
“Stop acting macho and give me your goddamn hand.” I sigh but hold it out reluctantly and allow him to pull out the tiny splinters embedded around my knuckles.
“I wouldn’t have hit you,” I admit, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world.
On some level, I know he did what he had to do, and I know Tessa did what she had to do. It’s just always been a hard pill to swallow, even harder now that I am face to face with everything I lost.
“Not if you wanted to avoid a whole body cast anyway.” He sniggers and shoots me a grin before returning to my hand. The simple gesture lets me know we’re okay and I exhale a sigh of relief. He’s an obnoxious dick, but I missed his company. I missed my friend.
“Everything is such a mess. I just, I missed her so much. You took her away, and my fucking sanity along with it, it seems.” I shake my head in frustration.
“I know, but she’s here now. So just don’t fuck this up, okay? I have a feeling you guys won’t get another chance, this is it. If she leaves again, it will be forever.” Fear swims in his eyes, and I catch a glimpse of how strong their bond has become. I may not like it, or understand it, but I think in some twisted way, they will always need each other.
I look up at him with determination. “I’m going to fix everything. I just need to get this temper under control.” I grimace as he digs into my skin retrieving another buried splinter.
“No shit,” he scoffs. “Trust me, you’re not the only one.”
“You too?” I ask surprised.
“Nah, my old man. I’m sure you heard he put my mom in the hospital recently.”
“Yeah, Marybeth told me. I can’t even imagine how shitty that would be. You okay?”
He gives a halfhearted shrug. “Not really. I haven’t told Tessa this ‘cause she has enough on her plate, but the first thing Ma did was set his bail. She has a restraining order at least, but won’t press charges. So he’s out there, a free man.”
“Fuck.” I whistle, sucking air between my teeth.
He continues working on my hand as he talks, “Yeah, keep it between us though, if you would?” I nod and watch as he plasters on a fake smile. He was never very good at talking about anything serious, but this is the most he’s ever opened up to me, even after I almost punched him in the face. There’s hope for our friendship yet.
He looks up suddenly. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you. How was it?”
“How was what? Putting my fist through the cabinet? Not fantastic, I don’t recommend it.”
“No idiot, banging Lilah Crother.” He thrusts his hips forward as he grinds the air and smiles.
I roll my eyes as the front door slams shut. We both whip our heads to find Marybeth standing with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised.
“My brother and the biggest ass in the world holding hands while talking about banging my high school nemesis? This is not how I expected my day to go.” I rip my hand out of Chase’s and slide away from him on the couch.
“Jealous baby?” Chase purrs as he pats his lap, encouraging her to take a seat.
“Drop dead pig.” She walks past the couch and I close my eyes, cringing when she screeches my name, “ANDREW, MY CABINETS? AGAIN?” She storms back into the living room to confront me.
I rub my neck as I look up at her scowling face. “Sorry, sis, I’ll get it fixed tomorrow. I promise.” I hold up two fingers like a good boy scout.
With an exasperated sigh, she sits down on the cushion between us and flops back.
“It was my fault,” Chase offers, and I shoot him a grateful look.
“Oh, big fucking surprise that is.” She snorts.
“Oh, by the way we’ve got a date this afternoon. Better start getting ready,” Chase informs her.
“Fuck you.” She spits over at him. “Go ask Slutty Crother.”
“She said she was busy, that’s why I’m asking you.” I shake my head as I suppress a laugh. Fucking idiot has a death wish.
Marybeth directs a glare at him that could melt steel, so I decide it’s time to interject.
“I asked Tessa on a date and she agreed, if it’s a double date with you two.” I fill her in on the situation, figuring her resolve will crumble.
“Fuck,” she moans.
Knew it. She will always have a soft spot for that girl.
“Hey, that was my initial response too,” Chase chimes in.
Marybeth looks over to me, and with matching grins we start hurtling the couch pillows at him.