Twenty

Winnie

Rolling over, I bury my face in my pillow. The flannel pillowcase I expect to nuzzle into isn’t soft. It’s not remotely close to cotton. The roughness is more like putrid burlap, and the twine feels like sandpaper being rubbed against the cuts on my cheek.

“The bells,” I whisper as a warm hand grips the base of my neck.

The bells dangle between his fingers, and then he jingles it back and forth. His nails are filthy, like he soaked them in motor oil. “These bells won’t keep you safe anymore, Winnie. It’s mine now. You’re mine.”

“What do you want, Jax?”

He’s wearing the same clothes he always does—a worn pair of jeans and a faded T-shirt with his motorcycle club logo in the middle. The burlap I thought I felt is his jeans, and the awful smell is the alcohol on his breath.

I try to kick him away, but my legs are stuck underneath the blankets, and all I make contact with is the empty takeout container sitting on the end of the bed. Before I fell asleep, I ate every crumb in the box, and then exhaustion took over.

I’m always so careful before I fall asleep, making sure every one of my nighttime checks is complete. I double-checked the lock on the front door, and then I closed my bedroom curtains. But Jax probably has a key now, and it doesn’t matter how many locks are between the two of us; he’d still find a way to get to me.

“What do you want, Jax?”

“You kicked me after I pried Tess off of you. I told you that you’d pay. I’m here to collect.”

“You took all my money. I have nothing left to give you.”

He drops the bells on the floor and smirks. “You have something even better than money, Winnie.”

My bottom lip trembles, and as afraid as I am, I still say, “No.”

His manic laughter fills the room, and before he has a chance to make a move, I try to come up with a way to get him away from me. All I have left are lies though, and getting him to believe one of them won’t be easy. But Jax is wasted, and my best bet is to give him the second-best thing.

“There’s more money underneath this bed. If you let me up, I’ll show you where it is.”

To get to it, he’ll have to flip the mattress off the frame, and then I’ll run. He considers the cash, and I pray he’s figuring out how to get it. If he were sober, he’d call my bluff. I’m sure of it.

“I’ll take your money. And then I’ll take you.”

He expects me to be scared, so instead of crying like I want to, I smile.

“Whatever you want, Jax,” I tell him.

“You’re so much prettier than that mom of yours,” he says. “She’s batshit crazy, you know. She talks about killing you in your sleep.”

“Tess isn’t my mom,” I remind him.

“That’s right,” he says. “Your mom’s dead.”

Like he knew the perfect way to erase it, the smile slides right off my face. “You don’t know that,” I tell him with a shaky voice.

My confidence dwindles, and I’m about to morph into the scared little girl he thinks I am. All because he said my mother is dead. A woman I’ve never met. Someone who exists only in my mind and sometimes in my dreams.

I’ve always had this fantasy that she’s off in California, clear across the country, working in Hollywood as an actress. But I’ve never seen her in a magazine or on a TV show. It’s like she decided she didn’t want to be a mom or a girlfriend anymore and vanished from the face of the earth. Wherever she ended up, she didn’t want to be found. I just wish I knew why.

“You’re a liar, Jax. A drunk and a liar.”

He grips my neck so hard, my teeth rattle, and little flashes of light explode behind my lids. I imagine all the ways I could hurt him, but I’d lose every battle. I’m no match for Jax, drunk or sober. I couldn’t even hold my own with Tess.

“I know where she’s buried, Winnie. So does your dad. Everyone knows, except you. Even that asshole you’re in love with—Trey.”

“No,” I whisper.

He’s lying, I tell myself. He’s just trying to upset me, so I’ll let my guard down and crumble.

Dad swore to me that he didn’t know where Mom had gone after she left us. Trey didn’t have a clue either. There was a time in my life when I planned on finding her. After I turned eighteen, I’d spend however long it took to find my mom. I figured, even if she didn’t want me in her life, at least I’d have closure. Now that Dad’s gone, I know finding her will be next to impossible. And I can’t walk away from Trey to go out on my own either. Not when he’s the only person I have left.

“Please, Jax. Tell me where my mom is.”

“Carillon is the one place your dad didn’t want you. Why do you think Tess brought you here? It sure wasn’t for the work or this dump you live in.”

“Tell me,” I beg. I have to know.

“What’ll you give me if I tell you, Winnie?”

“Whatever you want.” At this point, I’ll do anything to have the information. Even if it means giving him myself.

“I’m holding you to that,” he whispers. “Because your mom’s buried underneath the trailer, Winnie. She’s right here. Every single night.”

I scream. I scream louder than humanly possible. It’s so loud, Jax lets go of me and covers his ears.

The second scream rips through my throat and has him backing further away from the bed. Now’s my chance to run, but where do I go? Whom do I run to?

My mother is dead.

My father is dead.

Trey isn’t here when I need him.

And the only friend I have will think I’m crazy if I tell him the truth. He’ll leave me. This little piece of information will send him away like everyone else in my life.

 

My eyes fly open, and I’m lying in my bed, soaking wet. “What happened?”

Trey’s on his knees next to the bed, running his knuckle across my cheek, like Jax just did.

“Don’t,” I whisper.

“Jesus, Winn. You scared the shit out of me. I couldn’t wake you up.”

If it were any other voice, I would panic, but Trey’s tone is always like a warm blanket on a cold night.

“I was dreaming?”

He sets the mop bucket on the floor next to the bed and sits down beside me. “If that’s what you want to call it. It sounded more like torture to me. I heard you outside.”

Bits and pieces come back to me. I try to make sense of Jax being in my room, and all I can come up with is the fight with Tess. His promise to make me pay must have been enough to send my imagination into overdrive. I didn’t realize it earlier today, but I’m afraid of Jax. Terrified actually.

“It was the most screwed-up dream I think I’ve ever had.”

“And you’ve had some bad ones,” Trey says.

He laces his fingers with mine, like Jasper does, but it feels so different. Jasper would have calmed my racing heart down in seconds. Trey just makes it beat faster.

“What were you doing outside?”

He swallows and glances at our hands. Then, he looks back at me and kisses my forehead. He’s done it a million times before, but his lips linger a little longer than normal. “I was in the area, so I thought I’d see if you were still awake before I went home. Why don’t you change your clothes, and then we’ll talk?”

“What about Tess?”

“She’s not home yet. We have some time.”

Trey coming for me in the middle of the night can only mean one thing—he’s leaving again. Some shady stuff went down, and now, he has no choice but to disappear for however long it takes the drama to blow over. That could mean a week, two weeks, or maybe months. I can’t go through that again—the not knowing when I’ll see him or what he’ll be like when he comes back.

“What happened this time?” I ask him. “You’re not here at one in the morning to visit.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When they open, I know I’m right.

“Winn, I don’t want to do this.”

“Then, don’t,” I tell him. “Stay here. Make it better instead of running away from your problems.”

“They’re not typical problems. If I don’t go, I’ll put everyone in jeopardy. They’ll never leave the rest of the guys alone. I can’t risk that. I shouldn’t even be here right now. But I had to see you.”

Now that I know he didn’t come here just to wake me from the nightmare, the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My stomach aches, and my head throbs. If I don’t get up, I’ll have a panic attack right in front of him.

“It’s always drugs,” I whisper. “They’ve ruined every second of my life.”

“Don’t say that, Winn. You and I are different. We’re not like the rest of them.”

How can he believe that? Just because he doesn’t ingest chemicals to get high doesn’t mean he’s innocent.

“They’ll kill you, too, Trey. Dad wasn’t like the rest of them either. But he’s dead.”

He grabs my face and runs his thumb down my cheek. “I’m not dying. I’ll be back. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you for good.”

“Can you promise me this is it? This is the last time you’ll disappear and leave me?”

His fingers trail all the way down my arm, and I shiver. For a second, I think he might kiss me, but he rests his forehead against mine and takes a deep breath.

“No, Winn. I can’t make any promises.”

A hot tear slips from my lashes and plops onto my cheek. It explodes into ten more, and I start sobbing until I can barely breathe. Trey looks like I just punched him in the face. He’s never been able to handle when I cry.

“You should go,” I tell him. And then I stand up and run into the bathroom.

The door slams shut, and I turn the lock. Then, I grab the razor out of the medicine cabinet and sink to the floor. Trey pounds on the door, begging me to open it, but instead of listening, I move as far away as I can get.

“Winn, please,” he says. “Open the door, and talk to me.”

Between the dream and the promises Trey can’t make, I’ve done enough talking. My mind’s a jumbled mess, and I’m so pissed off that he hasn’t been able to shed his job to be the person I know he’s dying to be. If he couldn’t walk away for himself, I thought he’d at least do it for me. Turns out, I was wrong. Trey does what’s best for himself. I doubt he’s factored my feelings into his decision at all.

Right now, the only thing I’m thinking about is how many cuts I can make before Trey kicks the door down. His threats are coming faster, but I channel his anger into silent screams of my own.

I’d be lying if I said the blade didn’t hurt. Tonight, I feel everything, all the way to the bone. No amount of adrenaline can take away the hopelessness that lingers in my veins and spills onto my skin. But, at least if I’m feeling, I’m alive. I could flatline tomorrow and never feel a single thing again.

Five is usually the magic number with the third line being my favorite. I let the razor drag the longest, so the other two lines on each side are shorter. The design has become more meaningful than my own signature. If I could, I’d use the pattern to replace my name at the top of all my homework assignments.

The couple who named their little girl Winnie never really knew me. Mom didn’t watch her daughter grow up, and Dad died before I could even graduate high school. They left me with six meaningless letters to describe myself. Three consonants and three vowels—two odd numbers that make a whole.

I’ve never been whole. There’s always been something missing—family, friends, opportunities, chances, experiences. And I make sure I cut a line for each one of those missing pieces.

Trey continues to yell, and his last warning is so loud, the last cut sinks a little deeper than usual. I’ve never seen the blood rise to the surface that fast, and as gravity sucks it toward the tiles, the bathroom door falls off the hinges. Trey chucks it into the bathtub and then sees what I’ve done.

“Fuck, Winn!”

He squats next to me, opens my palm, and tosses the blade into the toilet. After he flushes it down, he grabs the bath mat from in front of the sink and wraps it around my thigh. He presses too hard, and I wince.

“I thought you stopped this shit,” he says as he carries me in his arms into the living room, onto the front porch, and down the stairs.

You’d think there’d be a slew of neighbors standing around, waiting to see what all the yelling and screaming was about, but there’s not a single person outside. With all the usual commotion inside the trailer, tonight probably doesn’t seem out of the ordinary.

There’s nobody to hide from, except Trey. He’s holding on to me so tightly, I couldn’t get away if I tried. The only people I’ve ever tried to be perfect for were Dad and Trey. I thought, if they saw that I had my life together and that I didn’t need a mother figure or a bunch of friends to survive, they’d stop seeing me as a little girl and as a woman capable of holding her own.

I think Trey eventually got to that point. After the last time he disappeared, he came home, and I wasn’t little Winnie anymore. He finally saw beyond the pigtails I had worn when I was five and paid attention to the skirt I wore at seventeen.

“You’re not wearing that to school,” he said. “Cover yourself up.”

Trey wasn’t trying to hurt my feelings. Maybe some girls would take offense and automatically think they were being shunned because of their body. But that wasn’t Trey’s intention. I didn’t even need clarification because I saw all I needed to see when he took a second glance and then a third. I had never felt so many butterflies in my entire life. And I never wanted them to fly away.

As powerful as that skirt made me feel, the cutting erases everything. I’m ashamed that, of all people, the man who means the most to me knows my biggest secret. He saw my flaws the night Dad died, and he had to pull me out of the closet and take me home with him.

Those nights in his apartment were innocent. Not once did he cross a line or attempt to. Other than taking care of the cuts, he didn’t touch me. If we weren’t standing in the middle of the driveway, I’d think that was where we were headed now. I don’t know where Trey calls home these days. It could be any number of places. He moves so often, I couldn’t hop on a bus and track him down.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I need to get you some bandages, but I don’t have any at my place, and all I have is my bike.”

As far as I know, Trey hasn’t ridden in years. Dad fixed Trey’s motorcycle after he wrecked it, and then he sold it for him. The accident kept Trey out of work long enough that his boss threatened his life. He wasn’t joking either, so it was the first thing to go as soon as Trey got better.

“Why are you riding a motorcycle? Where’s your car?”

He won’t look at me, and my stomach sinks to the pit of my stomach.

“You promised, Trey. You said you’d never own another motorcycle.”

“The bike isn’t in my name. It belonged to a guy in the city who couldn’t pay his bill, so I guess that means it’s mine now.”

I don’t want to think about what had to have happened for him to drive away on someone else’s property. I’ve overheard stories where he’s had knives pulled on him or been grazed by bullets, and there’s almost always a fight before the deal is over. One of these times, Trey won’t walk away, and that scares me more than the nightmare I had about Jax or the harm I do to my own body. I can’t lose anyone else. I won’t survive it.

Trey crosses the street and walks up the neighbor’s driveway. Of course he picks the one neighbor I’m most curious about. The one I’ve never seen without a helmet and only had conversations with through windows.

“He’s probably not going to answer the door,” I tell Trey. “He won’t talk to me.”

I’m always watching his window, waiting for pieces of paper to appear through the blinds or for the light to flicker in his bedroom. I even have messages scrawled onto construction paper, waiting for when he returns. So far, there’s been no attempt at communication or any sign that he wants to speak to me again.

Trey pushes the neighbor’s door open and sets me on the couch. He’s completely calm and probably used to barging into strangers’ homes to take care of business. Me though? This is foreign territory, and I feel like I’m about to get into a lot of trouble. This isn’t how I want to meet the neighbor—with self-inflicted cuts on my leg and a bath mat wrapped around my body. He’ll think I’m crazy. Maybe he already does. Look who I live with.

“Please tell me you know who lives here, Trey.”

He walks into the kitchen, grabs some paper towels, and shoves them under the faucet. Over his shoulder, he says, “I’d say we’re pretty close.”

They keep similar hours, working mostly at night, and right away, I assume the worst. The neighbor stays hidden because he’s working for Trey. He’s one of the guys who follows him around and tries to keep him safe. He’s his second pair of eyes, another set of brass knuckles, and an extra boot to crush someone’s skull. My neighbor is dangerous, but if he’s half as decent as Trey, he’s a good man. But, if he’s not, he could be something close to an animal.

When Trey comes back with a roll of paper towels, I take them from him. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

My heart’s nearly beating out of my chest. I’m about to come face-to-face with this mystery neighbor, and all I can think about is what Trey isn’t telling me.

What is he hiding, and why is it a secret?

He runs his fingers through his hair and says, “It’s me, Winn. It’s been me the whole time. This isn’t the first trailer I’ve moved into. It’s the closest to yours, but there were two others. I’ve been moving around the park, keeping an eye on you the best I can. Moving this close was a huge risk, one that I realize I probably shouldn’t have taken, but I did it anyway because I hated how depressed you looked when you left school every day. Your shoulders sagged, and the light was gone from your eyes. I knew I’d need to keep a closer eye on you over the summer, and this was all I could do.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, waiting for him to tell me he’s joking. But the moment to fess up passes, and it wouldn’t be funny anymore even if he did. I never even saw him at school, watching for me to leave the building. I walked home in the cold, the rain, the wind, even the heat. And, he was trailing me.

With a trembling lip, I ask, “Why?”

Trey’s never flat-out lied to me before. Hiding or omitting unimportant details is one thing, but this is different. I shared notes with the neighbor, and I let him inside the trailer. I don’t let anybody beyond the porch. Not even Jasper, and he’s done more to prove himself than any human should have to.

“There’s so much you don’t know,” he says. “So many things I can’t tell you. If you knew, you’d understand why I have to keep my distance.”

“That’s a terrible excuse, and you know it, Trey. I’m not just anyone. I mean more to you than that. At least, I thought I did.”

“You mean everything to me, Winn. Every. Fucking. Thing. And the less you know, the better. You won’t believe it now, but everything I do, I do it for your own good. I need you to always remember that.”

“How is moving across the street and hiding your identity helping me? I needed you so many times, and you still weren’t here for me. You were sleeping a hundred yards away, and you did nothing to ease my fears.”

“I talked to you,” he says. “I did it the only way I knew how.”

“But I didn’t know it was you! You’re what calms me, Trey. Not some man in a helmet who carries Tess inside when I can’t lift her. You!”

“The helmet and leather kept me safe. If Tess figured out who I was, she’d lose her mind. You know she wouldn’t let me stay here, and then how would I keep an eye on you? So, yes, maybe my methods were shitty, but my intentions revolve around you, Winn. When I’m not working, it’s always about you.”

I shake my head. “I can’t believe this.”

He paces back and forth in front of the couch. It’s killing him that I’m not thrilled about his arrangement. I’m used to his crazy schedule, and I would have appreciated him so much more if he had told me the truth. Keep everyone else in the dark, but let me in.

“Say something else,” he says. “Anything. If you’re going to yell, then do your worst, so I can get you fixed up, and we can move on.”

My worst.

Move on.

He really thinks it’s that easy. Confess, and then it’s better. The lies don’t matter if they’re attached to an apology. But every word out of Trey’s mouth matters to me. Everything he does, I care about. And, right now, there aren’t enough words in the English language to express to him how much I love and hate him.

I want to wrap my arms around his neck and tell him I’m thankful for his effort. On the flip side, it was an asshole move to play pretend when he’s all I have.

“Stop pacing, Trey. It makes me nervous.” I take a deep breath and continue, “If the roles were reversed, you’d never forgive me for lying to you. The truth has always been our thing; that’s why this stings so much. If you were living here for my benefit, then why didn’t you let me in on the secret? You took away the comfort you could have given me by pretending you were someone else.”

“Winn, it’s not like that.”

“Let me finish. You let me live with a woman you despise. A woman who got my father addicted to drugs. She bought the drugs that were pumped into his veins. She stuck that needle in his arm and stopped his heart.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he shouts.

Trey doesn’t yell at me. He never has. Not even when I deserve it.

I keep going anyway. “Because of my age, I’m forced to live with a monster. A monster you could have saved me from. You could have said, Winn, I’m right here. I’m watching. Lay your head down, and sleep in peace. But you didn’t. I stay up as long as I can and fall asleep with little metal bells on my doorknob in case someone tries to touch me.”

I leave my fate up to a little piece of metal, and the truth is, the bells could hurt me as badly as a razor blade, especially if I don’t hear it jingle.

Trey’s on his knees next to the couch, trying to hold my hand, and for a split second, I get mad enough that I want to push him away. I’ve seen betrayal in the most lethal forms, and everything about Trey’s lie sends up warning flags. For the first time in my life, I think I might be afraid of my best friend.

It’s not the tattoos or the markings on his body that worry me. His dark clothes and mysteriously dangerous job don’t bother me either. That’s who Trey is. It’s the fact that my life isn’t important enough to protect. He thinks that’s what he’s been doing, but a real protector doesn’t hide. He stands tall and jumps in front of the monsters before they attack. Trey’s never been in my room at night. He’s never taken a punch for me or helped me off the floor after I passed out. He can give me all the cash in the world, but that doesn’t make life easier. Money makes me an even bigger target.

But I know who has picked me up, fed me, and taken punches. And he’s not in this room.

“Winn,” Trey says as he absorbs everything I said. I’ve never been so brutally honest before. “I wasn’t trying to keep secrets from you. My life isn’t safe. You know that better than anyone. You’ve always been okay with me coming and going.”

“What choice did I have? You wouldn’t have stayed if I’d asked. You wouldn’t have quit your job; you can’t. So, I took the parts you gave me and prayed that the rest would change someday. But nothing’s ever going to change with you. You’re married to your work. And I’m too young to matter as much as your clients.”

Fire blazes in Trey’s eyes. He leans forward, and before I can say another word, my lips are crashing against his. I kiss him, and there’s only slight hesitation before he kisses back harder than I’ve ever been kissed. I forget how to breathe.

Fear and anger stop existing, and all I can think about is how good he feels. His fingers aren’t rough and unforgiving like I’m used to. They slide smoothly from my shoulders to the back of my neck until they’re tangled in the wet strands of my hair. Trey holds on to me like, if he lets go, I’ll disappear into thin air.

The tingles that race down my spine make me shiver, but I’m not cold. My body’s so warm, an embarrassing little moan sneaks out. I’m not sure it even belonged to me until Trey responds with a needy groan of his own that vibrates against my skin.

I don’t know what we’re doing, but I like it. Actually, I love what he’s doing to my body, and nothing about kissing Trey feels wrong. He’s my Trey—the one person who understands me better than anyone else. When I’m with him, I have a home again, and I don’t ever want that feeling to go away.