1
R E P R E S S E D
Break me in half and mold me back together.
Slit me and watch me bleed love.
Aching.
I’m aching to feel.
HIS KISS STILL HAUNTED ME.
I sat my noteook on the bed, water still dripping from my hair as my old professor’s words beat through my mind.
Bleed your thoughts onto paper and one day they’ll come to life.
I glanced at the checkered cover hiding my most-weighted thoughts and grunted. Yeah, like a hot man with large hands and a large… ego… will just appear from some pathetic, desperate scribble and fill in for my hands in the shower.
As soon as I’d felt the words, I rushed out to write them, cheeks pink from steam and unfulfilled pleasure. I left them pulsing beneath the cover, begging to be breathed in by the one person I knew would understand them.
Desire is a swollen bud between my thighs.
Spread me and make me bloom.
Dean’s face appeared in my mind. It always did. His smile that curved like the moon and held just as many secrets, his eyes that always felt like home, and his mutual love for the written word.
He was a forbidden ghost that drifted inside my memories, rattling the tarnished chains of my regrets.
Heat flooded my face and chest as I picked up the notebook and closed my eyes, retracing the feel of his lips against mine, just as I had in the shower. His rough, calloused hands sliding up my shirt. His breath, minty and hot against my neck…
The voice in the back of my head stirred. No, Andy. You can’t think of him like that.
With a dejected sigh, I hid the book beneath my oversized pile of unmentionables… underwear no man had seen since, well, since before I knew what an epidural was.
Ever since I could remember, words had always danced in my mind. Paper and pen had always been as important to me as breathing. And if I wasn’t writing them down, I was scribbling my thoughts in the air with my finger, just so they could have a home outside my brain, because the words never stopped coming.
Except I was blocked, unable to form those words into a cohesive story. The story I’d always wanted to write. The story everyone said I was destined to tell.
“Mom, I can’t find the remote,” Charlie called from outside my room.
I tried to hop closer to the door, struggling to get my black stockings over my legs and catching a glimpse of myself in the closet mirror.
I looked like an abnormal kangaroo on crack.
“Check the coffee table,” I shouted once I was within earshot. I turned back to the mirror, still trying to get the material over my thighs when my feet tangled. This isn’t going to end well, I thought as I toppled over onto the edge of my bed, face-first. “Damn it,” I muttered into the sheets.
My entire body went icicle-still when Charlie’s laughter filled the room. It took me a solid, panicked second to realize it was just the recording of his voice on my alarm giving the thirty-minute warning to get my butt ready and out the door. Money wasn’t going to make itself. But I was running late. Like always. Too many thoughts danced in the wind to ever be on time.
Grunting, I flopped over like a seal and got a firm grip on the tights, determined to win this game of tug-o-war. Once they were over my hips, I slipped into a pair of high-waisted shorts and a lacy crop top, which my boss required. Anything to stand out from the strip of bars and clubs his place was nestled in between.
“Mom?” Charlie’s voice was right outside my door.
After slipping into my boots, I adjusted my clothes and grabbed a hair tie, grateful a messy bun was hip because it was all I’d time for.
“Hey,” I said as soon as I opened the door. A smile spread over my lips. “Did you find it?”
He nodded, blue eyes sparkling, and then looked down. My heart shriveled when his shoulders crooked forward. It was that time again. The moment we dreaded every Wednesday. I wished I could shield him from it, but I couldn’t because his father took me for every penny I had in court.
“Does he have to come over?” Charlie asked. He always asked.
I still felt tiny shockwaves of anger when thinking about Matt visiting Charlie. He’d been in and out of his life from the beginning, but only recently decided he was going to put the time he was awarded by the judge to use.
I brushed the auburn hair that had fallen against his forehead back and looked him in the eyes. “He’s your father, Charlie. And he’s trying. He’s really trying this time. We have to give him a chance.”
Those words felt like acid on my tongue because they were lies I was forced to tell when the judge told me I couldn’t have full custody. That I had to share my boy with a man who had a new personality for every day of the week.
Words bubbled in my mind.
Strip me down.
Steal my shadows.
Charlie sighed as his ten-year-old eyes sullenly clouded over.
My heart was stuck in an endless loop of shattering, unable to mend or keep the cycle from repeating.
“It just feels weird calling him Dad when I don’t feel like he’s my dad.”
“I know, buddy.” I pulled him into a hug. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.”
He grunted. “If I don’t, he gets mad.”
I squeezed him hard, wishing I could change things for him. Knowing the only way was to go back in time and keep myself from ever sleeping with Matt. But if I did that, I wouldn’t have Charlie.
I was too selfish to give Charlie up.
There was a swift, hard knock on the front door. We looked up.
I wonder which version of Matt we’ll be blessed with today?
“I’ll be watching The Weather Channel,” Charlie said, something he’d done for the past year. His interests had switched from obsessing over Pokémon, to needing to know everything about the barometric pressures, wind shear, and any other meteorological term that popped up on his radar.
He trudged to the couch where he always sat with Matt or, as I liked to call him under my breath, the sperm donor.
Charlie was too young to be so mature. Too sincere to be so sad.
I swallowed my tears and headed to the door, forcing myself to breathe even though every inch of me wished I could just crawl into a hole and never come up for air. Matt was a dark void I couldn’t escape. A mirror I was constantly forced to stare into because in him, I saw myself in a fragment of mistakes. In choices. Every one of them changing the girl I was into the woman I became without any sort of forewarning.
His hand was lifted when I opened the door. He still looked like he did in college. Wild, hard-edged eyes. Lips that looked like they had never tasted a smile.
There was something about hitting rock bottom that introduced one to oneself. Matt was my rock bottom. What I learned from it is that when it comes to bending backward and taking crap from others, I was as flexible as Gumby.
Matt’s eyes formed into slits the moment they landed on me. “About time, Andrea.”
I cringed at how he said my name. Like he knew me inside and out. I’d never be able to scrub that feeling away.
He gave me a once over, gaze stopping on my exposed midriff and cleavage as he clucked his teeth. “Desperate times calls for desperate measures… huh, Andrea?” He licked his lips in a cocky manner, eyes drinking me in. “You know, the offer still stands. I’d be more than willing to take you back. I didn’t forget. We’re magic in bed.”
“And my answer’s still the same—I’ll pass.” I stepped back and opened the door wider, imagining punching him square in the jaw. Reveling in the grimace that followed my rejection.
He entered like he owned the place, eyes moving over every personal piece of space. Skimming his finger over the top of a picture frame hanging on the wall, he then pushed the books sticking out on my bookshelf back in as he moved toward the living room.
I could already tell we were getting the asshole side of Matt. There was never a middle ground. He was either enraged and bitter, or as remorseful as he could be. The latter side usually came after one of his catastrophic outbursts, when he knew he had to hand the power back over long enough to win my compliance.
Every time I tried to approach him with strength and reserve, he always found a way to break what little strength I had left, and so, the cycle continued.
Charlie looked up from The Weather Channel and scooted over. “Hey.”
I moved past them and into the kitchen to make Charlie a quick meal before Julia, my neighbor, arrived. She was a godsend in my life. A tender, yet stalwart presence that was just a few short steps across the hallway. When I had to close at night, she watched over Charlie. Her husband died shortly after Charlie and I moved into the small complex. We brought her dinners when we could and just fell into claiming her as one of our own.
There was a small moment of silence, and I couldn’t help but peek over the bar.
Matt’s voice went flat as he glared at our son. “Hey… what?”
His face was angular and sharp without a hint of kindness to his eyes. I didn’t know what I had ever seen in him. Why I’d ever let myself fall into his bed.
Because he was exactly who your mother wouldn’t approve, I thought, shaking my head.
More words surfaced. Puncture me so I can bleed my mistakes.
“Hey, Dad,” Charlie corrected, the word sounding awkward. He grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to his chest.
My finger began to move, scribbling out a thought my head couldn’t hang onto. Fucker.
Matt wore a winning smile as he settled into the couch, throwing his arm over the back so he could keep his eyes on Charlie and me. “That’s better. How has your day been?”
“Good.”
“Just good? Your mama treating you right?”
Charlie looked over the couch at me, eyes pleading.
“Don’t look to her, boy,” Matt cut in, voice rising. “Is she making you act like this? She’s always been controlling and a little on the—”
I was already around the bar, carrying the glass of water Matt always requested when he visited. “Here’s your water,” I said, shoving it in his face.
He took it and gave me his usual pissy look, like he was about to chew me up and spit me out.
I cleared my throat and straightened my shoulders, inhaling courage. “Matt, Charlie is about to eat dinner with Julia. I have to head to work. Use the time we’ve agreed on to have an actual conversation before you have to leave.”
A slow, burning smirk that sent cold shivers up my spine crossed his face. He regarded me as if I were an animal he’d yet to mount on his wall of successions. One he’d soon capture with enough patience.
I tried not to squirm.
He took a long sip. Set the glass on the coffee table. “Good to see you’re still pissed off at the world. Can you please head back to the kitchen and finish, so I can enjoy the time I’m allowed? ‘Cause we can take this back to court if you’d—”
Matt’s words trailed off when I looked at Charlie. I frowned an apology to him, wanting to tell him so many things. How sorry I was for getting us into this mess. How all men didn’t act like this.
Charlie nodded and offered a small, encouraging smile. He was always so perceptive.
When Matt’s lips stopped moving, I headed into the kitchen. Cursed under my breath when I noticed the water boiling over. “Shit, shit, shit,” I said as I moved the noodles into the strainer, burning the edges of my fingertips in the process.
Darkness swells inside me.
It drips from my fingertips.
Bleeds from my eyes.
There was a light knock on the door followed by a, “Hello?”
“Hey, Julia. Come in. I’m just finishing up,” I said as I poured the noodles back into the pot and added the cheese and some milk. A few minutes later, I set a small bowl on the counter alongside a plate of chicken nuggets, apples, and a cup of chocolate milk. Charlie’s favorite things. It was what I always made for him when he had to see Matt.
“Mrs. Julia,” Charlie shouted as he hopped off the couch and hurried into her arms.
Her bubbly laughter warmed the chilled atmosphere Matt’s presence always brought. “And how do you do, Charlie, sir?” she asked, patting him on the back.
“Great! The forecast is sunny, and Mom is cooking my favorite.”
Julia chuckled, but then stood straight when Matt cleared his throat. She didn’t bat a wrinkled eye in his direction, just said coolly and with a curt nod, “Matt.”
It was the only greeting he ever got.
Matt’s jaw ticked, eyes dark and swirling with hate. He couldn’t stand anyone who could not only see right through his bullshit, but who also wasn’t willing to put up with it either. And the best part was that there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.
In that area, I’d won, and I celebrated every win, no matter how small.
She was a retired kindergarten teacher with wonderful references and a clean background, so when Matt tried to annihilate her in court, the judge had dismissed it.
“Andrea,” Matt called from the couch.
I looked up.
“I forgot to mention that you should be receiving a package in the mail from my lawyer. Keep your eye out for it.” Even though he was speaking to me, he made sure to punctuate his sentence by looking at Julia. If I went against what he wanted, he’d always find ways to punish me.
Subtle harassment included.
Julia gave me a knowing look as she entered the kitchen.
“He wants full custody,” I said quietly, already knowing what was coming. Matt wanted me to live in hell. Ever since I took him to court for child support, he’d been chipping away at me in the hopes he could reverse the ruling and get full custody. It would be the final move to regain full power over me.
I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t lose my boy.
“He can rot in hell,” Julia said, after making sure she was out of Charlie’s earshot. Her weathered hands took over the scrubbing of the dishes, her presence like the sun appearing on a cloudy day. “There’s no way in hell a judge would grant him that.”
“I didn’t think they’d give him fifty-fifty custody either, considering he doesn’t even work, but when you have money overflowing from your family, possibilities are endless.”
“What about your family?”
She knew my backstory. Knew my family name was huge in the legal world. Hale & Thurston, two of the most prestigious lawyers in the south.
“I’d die before I’d ask them for a penny,” I said, feeling like it was going to be a long night. “Charlie, honey, your food is ready.”
Charlie dropped his iPad and headed straight for the barstool while Matt fiddled with the remote. I hated having him in my home. He left his scent on my furniture. Touched my things.
He wanted to crawl inside every inch of my head and dominate it.
After he sat, Charlie closed his eyes and inhaled, a bright smile crossing his lips. “It smells amazing, Momma.” He bowed his head, waiting for me to do the same, and then we said a quick prayer before he dug in.
Julia and I smiled at each other, and then I glanced at my watch. “I better get going. I’m already going to be late.” I turned to Charlie and kissed his forehead. “Be good for Julia. Be sure to brush your teeth and read before bedtime. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. I love you.”
He swallowed a mouth full of macaroni before beaming another smile at me. “Love you too, Momma.”
“You sure you’re okay?” I asked Julia, nodding in Matt’s direction.
She waved me off and leaned in close enough so only I could hear. “The only one who should be worried is him. A woman doesn’t make it to seventy-two without learning a few tricks when it comes to dealing with assholes.”
I bit back a smile and patted her shoulder before kissing her cheek. She was right. She was tough as nails and equally as sweet as candy… a force Matt could never stand against.
Grabbing my purse and a small container of macaroni, I headed out the door, taking the stairs two at a time. Once outside our small apartment complex, I was instantly assaulted by the heat. July had made itself right at home, breathing its stale, stinking breath over the heart of our colorful city of Nashville.
After crossing the street, I reached for my phone, which was buzzing in my purse. I had to dig for a minute, shoving things aside, wishing I’d put it in my back pocket rather than in the never-ending pit. Finally retrieving it, I read the text.
Cami: Where the hell are you? Sandra’s already hogging up the good ones.
It was my best friend from college. Cami was the only one who hadn’t shunned me after I made the decision to drop out of college when I found out I was pregnant.
Me: I’m a couple of blocks away. Sorry. Dick paid me a visit today, but not in the enjoyable way.
Cami was the only person in the world who knew everything there was to know concerning Matt. She was there when he first cheated. And then when he cheated for a second, third, and fourth time. She helped me keep my resolve when he’d show up at my dorm, begging me to come back. She even helped me file for child support when I noticed he spent more on his shoes than he did on the things Charlie needed.
Is there ever an enjoyable way to be visited? They’re either too short, too limp, or too early. I swear it’s hard to find a good one nowadays.
Cami, I replied.
Andy, she mocked. Don’t be such a prude. A woman can have taste in penis. You should try it sometime.
Even though I was used to the way Cami talked, I still couldn’t keep my cheeks from reddening. She was a free spirit, exploring man after man without a second thought while I wrote my desires on paper. I didn’t have time for men and their issues. Matt caused enough, and we weren’t even sleeping together.
Another bubble appeared as I waited for her message to come through.
So, like I was saying… this place is starting to crowd up. Need you here like yesterday. See you soon.
I hooked a right and headed in the direction of the bar—The Hollow Boot. It still amazed me that even on a Wednesday night, we had people from all over the world filling the bar with noise and thirsty mouths.
I took an early left and passed a homeless lady I often noticed sleeping in the same spot. She was sprawled out next to her pile of garbage bags, unmoving. I nudged her shoulder, and her eyes popped open.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, holding the container out to her. I wouldn’t have time to eat at work. I never did, and I’d rather someone take it who needed it than let it spoil.
She nodded. After taking it, she didn’t waste any time as she popped the top off and dug in with half-gloved fingers. “Thank you,” she muttered in between bites.
“You’re welcome.” I smiled warmly. “Stay safe.”
A few minutes later, I fought through the growing crowd inside The Hollow Boot until Cami spotted me and waved me over. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of hops as my steps crunched over the peanut shells littering the floor. A bluster of voices bounced off one another as bodies twisted and turned to fit together better.
“Hey,” Sandra said loudly as she poured two shots of tequila, liquid pooling up to the rims. “Late again? What’s that… the third time this week?” A sly, menacing grin followed her words.
Sandra liked me about as much as I liked Matt. Her blonde hair was in a tight bun, stretching back the bronzed skin across her forehead. Her makeup was thick, eyebrows drawn too high. From day one, we hadn’t gotten along. She blamed it on my annoying, do-good attitude that didn’t sit right with her. I blamed it on her lack of relating to anyone other than the opposite sex.
Only if they were into her.
“Don’t listen to her, honey. She’s just salty.” Eric, my salvation and good friend, finished washing the glasses as he spoke. “She’s pissed because the last customer told her she was bitchy.” He side-eyed Sandra and pursed his lips. “And if the shoe fits, Cinderella…”
I suppressed a smile and headed through the swinging doors toward Cami’s office. We walked an aberrant line by being best friends, since she was also my manager. Even though I knew she was cut and dry, I never quite knew how to act since we tried to keep it separate from business.
“Shut the door,” she said from behind her desk. She was wearing the outfit I bought her last year for her birthday—a floral-print romper and a pair of her favorite cowboy boots. Auburn locks fell over her shoulders, not a single curl out of place.
“Cami, I’m so sorry about being late. I tried—”
“It’s fine, Andy. I just need your help,” she cut over me, fingers sweeping over the keyboard as the music from outside tapped against the door.
I breathed a little easier and took the seat across from her, scooting closer to the desk. “What’s up?”
“I’m trying to come up with this week’s slogan for an ad Rick wants to run, but I’m stuck.”
Rick—the owner of the bar—was as easy to work with as the hangry version of myself… while on my menstrual cycle.
She looked up from the computer, pleading with her deep green eyes. I was a sucker, and she knew it. “You’re so good with words, Andy. I figured you could help me.”
“Well, I—”
“Don’t play coy. You know you are.”
I thought for a second. Moved my finger through the air beside the chair, writing, testing, and rearranging letters until the right words formed.
“The Hollow Boot—where thirsty dreams are filled.”
She slapped the desk. “See!” She resumed typing. “You’re too talented to be bartending.” She paused and eyed me, wiggling her eyebrows.
I pushed the stapler that was about to fall off the edge of the desk back. “It’s just a few words, Cami.”
“A few I’ve spent the last hour trying to come up with on my own, and you just waltz in here and spit the right ones out.”
I knew the speech that was sitting on the tip of her tongue. The whole go-back-to-school discussion. Write-the-story-you’ve-been-meaning-to-write declamation everyone always gave, none of them knowing exactly what it took to tangibly form the words everyone thought I could so easily pump out.
I needed inspiration. Something to pour from my soul without thought. Something meaningful.
Something I didn’t currently have.
Melt me down with your hot kiss.
Undress me with your eyes.
“You set for your trip home?” Cami asked, changing the subject.
I groaned, scratching at the leather arm of the chair. “Unfortunately.” Peering at her, I raised my eyebrows. “You sure you don’t want to come? Mother will miss you.”
Cami chortled, pushing back from the desk as she ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ve had my fair share of crazy when it comes to her. I’m not up for her opinion about ladies working at bars. Maybe next time?”
We laughed, because we knew there’d never be a next time for Cami. Not unless hell froze over.
From as far back as I could remember, my parents hosted an annual Fourth of July celebration at their ranch in support of my father’s law firm. It was a way for him to network and spend time with the family.
Though… for the past five years, I skipped out.
When the invite came this time, I had to say yes. It wasn’t fair to keep Charlie from them, so I bit the bullet and put in for two weeks’ vacation.
Really, you just wanted to keep yourself from seeing him. Dean.
Every year I went, it was the same thing. Go to the ranch. Be scolded by Mother for not having a suitable man by my side. Reminded of past mistakes that put me in the position I was in. Told how much potential I had, placing heavy emphasis on the past tense of that word.
And maybe she was right. Maybe I did lose my potential for writing a masterpiece when I decided to have unprotected sex with Matt. When I decided to keep my baby even though the father was sleeping with almost every girl on the floor of my dorm. But I wouldn’t ever say I regretted having Charlie. He was my potential. Everything I had, my hopes and dreams, they were given willingly to him the moment the nurse put him in my arms and he opened those bright blue eyes.
He was an explosion of words inside my heart. Joy. Love. Fear. Excitement. Heartache.
Open your hands and take my heart.
My mother would never make me feel ashamed for that choice.
“You good here?” I asked, feeling my tips slipping between my fingers every second I spent away from the bar. I needed them if I was going to survive the next two weeks I had off.
“Yeah,” Cami said, the disappointment in her eyes stabbing at my chest. “Yeah, we’re good. Go get ‘em, tiger.”