Teagan

My skin itches for more methadone.

Like he can predict my every need, Kai’s fingers rap against my door before he pushes it open. He hasn’t said much since I’ve been home. Only coming near me to deliver my pills and keeping his eyes low while playing pharmacist.

Like normal, he gives me my dose, and I ingest it greedily, wishing for more.

Today though, he doesn’t flee the room after he’s done what he came in here to do. I focus on the bruises, given to me only three days ago, that darken my skin. It’s easier than wondering what he’ll say or do. Paisley has been the one spending the most time with me, and while it hurts that Burke and Kai are so sickened by my behavior that they’re staying away, the distance is easier. So, now, as Kai lingers in my room, my disposition becomes increasingly more uncomfortable.

It’s too soon to gaze at and scrutinize the wreckage of the bridges I’ve burned.

“Remember when Burke and I tried to throw you a party for your twelfth birthday, and none of the other kids’ parents would allow them to come?”

I remember. It was going to be the first time I hosted a sleepover. I slaved over the guest list and made Burke promise me that he’d get me a pink cake with extra frosting. Two weeks before the party, I had ten RSVPs, all checked no. Every time someone passed me back the invitation in class, I was humiliated. Even at twelve, not fitting in hurt.

I stay quiet, unsure where Kai is going with this, and let him continue.

“We ended up taking you to Universal instead and kept you out of school for a week. We got you special priority on the rides and behind-the-scenes access to the shows. You ate your weight in popcorn and went on every ride at least twice.”

And Burke gave me a pink cake with extra frosting every night of our vacation. The kids were all jealous when they heard my stories when I came back to school.

“Your life with us was never normal. We knew that, but Burke and I, we always did everything we could to try to make up for that; maybe, sometimes, we did too much. Anything and everything we could, we fixed for you. We couldn’t give you the life other kids you went to school with had, but whenever something came up, we made sure one way or another that you were taken care of.”

“Kai, I know all this. What’s your point?” I hold back my eye roll. Now isn’t the time.

“We can’t fix this. There is no way we can snap our fingers and make things right. It’s killing the both of us that we can’t swoop in and find the magic resolution for you. It isn’t possible.”

He grabs my hand, and I pull it away.

“I don’t need either of you to fix things.”

His eyes narrow at me as I cross my arms over my chest.

“Is that true? Because I’m a little worried that maybe we fixed too much, and now that you’re in a situation that’s out of our hands, you’re scrambling to figure out what to do.”

I stand, indignantly throwing my hands up in the air, aggravated by his arrogance. “You’re a piece of work! Why are you even in here? You can go back to avoiding me.”

“No, I need to know that you can handle this. I need to know you can summon your fight and overcome what we’re going through. Please, Teagan, give that to me.”

Laughter rolls from my tongue and saturates the room with contempt and bitterness.

“Give that to you? Do you need me to make you feel better about where I’m going to end up? Did you come in here for reassurance about my life?” I cock the metaphorical gun. “News flash! You won’t get what you came looking for. Do you know why?” And I pull the trigger. “Because there is no overcoming what I’ve been through. You can’t fix me, and neither can I.”

“That isn’t true,” he protests.

“Really? Do you think? Do you know what it’s like to have unwanted hands touching you? Do you know what it feels like to have sex forced on you? To be full-on raped and be completely incapable of stopping what’s happening?”

I inch closer to him until my nose is almost touching his and look him straight in the eyes.

“Do you know what it’s like to be so frozen and so disgusted by your own memories that you’d willingly let more men that you didn’t want venture between your legs in the hopes that they’d wash away who’d been there before or just to get the one thing that made your life tolerable? Have you been through these experiences?”

His hands grip my face, and sadness clouds his eyes. I don’t like hurting him, but my family needs to know that the girl they knew is gone.

“It kills me, Teagan. I don’t know exactly what happened to you, and I’ll probably never know it all, but it absolutely rips out my heart to know even a fraction of it. I want those motherfuckers to die all over again. I hate that their death wasn’t at my hands and that Burke was the only one who got to watch them burn. If it hurts me this bad, I can’t even imagine what it feels like for you, and I won’t pretend that I can.”

His eyes water, and his fingers pulse against my cheeks.

“You need to understand, there is no coming back for me.”

“I don’t understand that, and I won’t believe it. I know you, and you can come back from anything. Maybe not as the same person you were before, but you can do it as someone who is able to find happiness again.”

“I want to fuck you just to shut you up. Not because I love you or because I want you, but because it’s a tool to get out of this conversation. I’m that type of girl now. I want to use any sort of manipulation I can to get you to agree to turn a blind eye to me leaving this house and to do whatever necessary to get me the drugs I want. I literally want to chew off my own skin, trying to explain to you people to just let me go.”

“None of us will ever let you go. You have to know that.”

His eyes study the floor; he’s uncomfortable by my words. Good. I’m damn uncomfortable, too. I have been since my last high. This methadone doesn’t do shit.

“I don’t love you, Kai. You’re just another man who took advantage of me. All the reasons you protested against us at the start were true, and no matter how hard I pushed, you should never have crossed that line.”

His eyebrows pinch together, and his feet move in circles.

“You don’t think I know what I did was wrong? Of course I do, but damn it, don’t compare what we have to that, to those fucking assholes. It isn’t the same. I loved you, Teagan. I still do, and I never forced anything on you.”

“Force? No, but you definitely took advantage of our situation.”

“Fine, distort the past and rewrite history. What I care about now is making sure you’re okay and helping you beat this.”

Making sure I’m okay. Making sure I’m okay?

Okay. What a funny fucking word. Am I okay? Will I be okay? Was any of this okay? Two syllables and four letters don’t feel like they have enough power to describe this last year or any of the years that will follow.

Okay.

Fucking okay.

The word is a hysterical joke. Internally, I’m cracking up like the world’s shortest and most comical punch line is replaying in my head. Outwardly, I’m calm. My posture slouches, and my hands relax at my sides.

Exhausted and defeated.

“Without love, suffering is intolerable. I’d rather die than live the rest of my life this way, and there is no guilt inside me, as I’m telling you, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how it ends.”

My chin swivels in the direction of the door as it swings open, and Burke stands in the doorway.

“Everything good in here?” Burke asks.

“Everything is okay.” I can’t help the smirk bending my lip.

“I thought you might want to get out of the house. Want to take a walk with me?” he adds while looking curiously between Kai and me.

“No, I don’t want to go anywhere. Take Kai, and then the both of you go back to hiding from me. I don’t need my daddies breathing down my neck, especially the one who wants to fuck me.”

Burke cringes, and Kai pales.

I hope my crudeness is enough to keep them away for the rest of my thirty days because I can’t take any more of these little talks.

They leave quietly, and I go back to stewing in my misery in solitude. I may prefer the isolation, but I can guarantee there is enough of my anguish for this whole damn town. If I were the old me, I would have felt bad that I’d spread my grief, but the new me just doesn’t care.

At all.

About anything.