Misery
When a bad decision blows up in our face, our body and mind responds to the distress. Misery sets in. We feel an all-consuming period of depression and regret. We don’t sleep. We don’t eat. The sunniest days are gloomy, and even a laughing baby will not make us smile. We become angry. We lash out at those we care about most, because what we actually want is company in our misery.
BREEZE
I FELT DIFFERENT after kissing Shame, more mature, or maybe content. I felt how much he truly cared about me in that kiss. Unfortunately, he felt it, too. He was back to being an unreasonable bastard, that is when he wasn’t ignoring me completely.
Months passed and I barely saw him, and when I did, I felt myself growing to hate him. I wanted to. He definitely wanted me to. Only deep inside where all my feeling rested, I couldn’t let go of how much I loved him. I could never hate him. I hated where we stood; two people, far apart in age and beliefs, but close together in our denials.
For the first time since moving in with Shame, I felt as lonely as I did at my dad’s. Pocket was all but a girl I used to know. Viv was so busy with club business I rarely saw her. Lance had dumped me, and with that, I lost my way. I could no longer chat with his grandma. At school, I was back to Breeze, the girl no one liked, although I didn’t face any throwback from the break up. Lance was respectable and never told anyone why we ended things.
I tried to read, but my tears blurred the pages. I had a little over eighteen months left with Shame. Some day’s it felt like a long time, and others it felt as though it wasn’t nearly long enough. Today, it felt like a life sentence. If this was what life was going to be like, I wanted out. But I had nowhere else to go. My life was pure misery.
I jumped as Shame stormed into the room with a laundry basket of his clothes I had folded earlier. He tipped the basket upside down, sending the jeans and shirts to the floor.
“You call this folded?” he shouted. “You’re not freeloading here. You’re working off a debt, and I don’t expect you to do a half ass job of it.”
“What did I do wrong?” I cried.
“Fold it again!”
The door slammed and more tears came. He was punishing me for that damn kiss. I didn’t care. I couldn’t take it back and even if I could, I wouldn’t. I didn’t regret it, and I refused to let him spoil it for me.
The door opened again. “And when you’re done with that, the toilets in the clubhouse need to be cleaned.”
“I just cleaned them.”
“Well, they need to be cleaned again.”
“Fine!”
I refolded his laundry meticulously with tears raining down my cheeks the entire time. He wanted me to hate him, but I never would. He could yell at me all he wanted, order me around, and pretend he didn’t care, break my heart even, but I would still love him. He had left his mark and it couldn’t be removed.
I sat for dinner and was grateful to see Viv.
“How are you doing?” she asked, taking the seat next to me.
“I miss you. That’s for sure.”
“How’s Lance?”
“You didn’t hear?” She shook her head. “We broke up.”
“Oh, no. I’m sorry to hear that.”
I forced a smile. “It’s okay.”
“Still sucks, but there must be plenty of boys who would love to go out with you.”
I shrugged, my cheeks burning with nerves, as I felt Shame’s eyes boring into the side of my head. “Not really.”
“Don’t worry. There will be.” She winked.
“How much salt did you put in this?” Shame asked, glaring at me as his fork bounced off the edge of the plate.
It was fucking lasagna. I didn’t put salt in it.
“None,” I answered.
“Well, it tastes like shit!”
“Shame,” Viv shrieked.
“Don’t you start with me. This is between me and Breeze. She’s lazy.” He pushed out from the table and stood. “I’m going out to eat.”
Viv shot up from the chair and followed Shame out of the dining room.
I made eye contact with Dozer first who shrugged one shoulder. Then Ziggy who gave me a thoughtful smile, and Rugby reached over and patted my hand. The front door to the clubhouse slammed closed, and I sucked in a breath to fight tears.
“Don’t worry about him,” Tank offered from across the table. “There ain’t nothing wrong with your cooking, Breezey.”
Kegger added, “He’s going through some shit. Don’t take it personal.”
The guys voiced agreements, but it was personal. It was me Shame pushed away. My eyes continued to sting, but I refused to cry.
Voices boomed outside and Dozer and Tank shot up from their chairs. I ran and opened the door to see my dad. He looked like he had aged ten years. Dozer, Kegger and Tank shoved past me outside. Shame held my dad off but he screamed my name over and over.
“Let me see my girl right now.”
“No,” Shame roared, shoving my dad back.
Dad met my gaze over Shame’s shoulder. “Breeze, princess. Come outside.”
It took a moment for his slurred words to form a sentence in my mind.
It was Shame’s eye I caught next when he turned his head to look at me.
“Let go of him, please,” I instructed, my voice choppy in my ears.
Shame did as I asked. Barely able to stand, my dad swayed from side to side. When he made a move to walk toward me, Tank managed to catch him and hold him up.
“Come home with me, princess. Please.”
Again, it took me a while to decipher his words. Drool ran from his mouth, and his head kept bobbing, as if he couldn’t focus.
“No,” Shame stated firmly. “Your debt isn’t paid.”
“You stay out of this, Bastard. She’s my family, not yours.”
My inebriated dad was no threat to Shame. He could barely stay on his feet.
“You abandoned her. Breeze is our family now!” Shame roared as he glared at my dad. “You fucked her up enough. There’s no way in hell she’s leaving here with you.”
“She’s my little girl,” my dad insisted. “And she is coming home with me. You try and stop me.”
I had wanted him to fight for me since the day my mom left. Now that he was, I wanted him to give up. I felt angry he was there and making demands. My head hurt and my chest constricted and the only way I knew to relieve the pressure was to finally lash out and tell him how I honestly felt. “What is there to go home to, Daddy?”
“Me.”
His sad expression didn’t affect me like it used too. There was a time I blamed myself for the position he was in, but I was no longer a scared little girl.
“You?” I mocked and let out a loud laugh. It sounded deranged, which was appropriate since I felt diabolically mad. “Do you have any idea what a home with you is? You want me to come home because there’s no one there to prop you up while you go to the bathroom. Or so I can feed you dinner because you can barely hold a fork. Or maybe I should come home to clean urine and shit out of the sofa because you lost control of your bodily functions in your sleep. Your house isn’t a home. It’s a prison. That’s why Mom left, even if it meant giving me up. She couldn’t take it anymore.”
He stumbled back, shaking his head, maybe in shock. “She was a junkie whore.”
“Maybe, but she couldn’t watch you kill yourself and neither will I.” I stepped closer to him and screamed, “I’m not coming home with you . . . ever. Go!”
His expression fell and for a split second I felt bad.
Shame slid in front of me and looked at Tank. “You and Dozer take Pete home. Make sure he gets inside.”
I turned and ran upstairs, until I was safely inside and away from my dad. Curled up on the couch, I thought about how much I loved him and how much it wasn’t enough. Until I saw him there, asking me to come home, I never realized how neglected and abused I was as a child. Maybe I still was. With how Shame treated me as of late, I wasn’t sure which life I preferred. I wailed into the cushions until footsteps caught my attention.
“He’s gone,” Shame informed me.
“Good.”
I sat up and wiped my tears. Without a word, Shame sat next to me on the couch and pulled me into his arms. I buried my head in his chest and absorbed the comfort I needed.
“I had no idea things were that bad for you,” Shame whispered, rocking me softly.
“He’s never going to get better, is he?”
“I don’t know.”
He held my cheek, pressing me further to his chest. I focused on his heartbeat and said, “I hope he does. I know he suffers.”
“He’s an adult who makes choices. What he put you through was wrong.”
“But he’s the only dad I have. I miss him. I can’t help it.”
Shame remained quiet, holding me until I fell asleep.
Even when we want the misery to go away, we remain trapped in its hold. We wallow, until there is nowhere else to go but up. It usually takes a strong reminder of why we should fight to bring us back.
SHAME
After Breeze fell asleep, I phoned Sabina. She was all too eager to come, but when she arrived, I didn’t want her there. I had been watching Breeze sleep, and it felt like Sabina intruded on something private.
“You look awful,” she said, removing her coat.
For a moment, I considered putting the coat back on for her and giving her the boot, but my dick was fairly happy to see her. I looped my fingers through her belt loops and pulled her close to me. “Don’t talk.”
“We need some privacy,” she whispered, glancing at Breeze. She removed my hands from her waist and used them to guide me down the hall to my bedroom.
Once in the room, she closed the door and locked it. She set her pocket book on the chair. I was already stripping my T-shirt when she began unbuttoning her blouse, which she promptly tossed to the floor and came toward me with her hands out. They found the button on my jeans. “Ah, baby, you seem so tense. What’s the matter?” she asked, lowering the zipper.
As usual, I wasn’t in the mood to talk so I buried my face in her neck and pulled her hair. “I said, don’t talk.”
“But you seem so upset,” she continued.
I used to have fun with Sabina, but lately she wanted to talk, about me and the club and Breeze, and all I ever wanted was to not talk. Of course, I only had myself to blame for her pushing. I’d kept her around longer than ever before, which led her to believe she had a place in my life. She did. It was just a place of whatever suited me, whenever it was convenient. I had greyed the lines. It was low. It wasn’t a fair game, but Sabina was desperate enough to play along.
She shrieked when I threw her on the bed, and when I bit hard on her bottom lip, she shoved me away. “What’s wrong with you?” she screamed, anger flashing in her wide eyes as she sat up.
I thought I had been clear, but evidently I needed to remind her again. “I want to fuck and I don’t want to talk while we do it.”
With a childish folding of her arms in front of her chest, she glared at me. “Well, I do.”
I huffed a breath, got up and plucked her shirt from the floor. Her eyes grew larger as I tossed it to her. “Go home.”
“I don’t want to go,” she whined, her voice low as she slipped her arms into her blouse. “Come on, Shame. We’ve been going at this for a while. I know you care about me. I’m not some club groupie you fuck. We’re more than that.”
She pushed things and she wasn’t going to like how I responded. It was good for me I didn’t care if she joined in my misery. “Don’t kid yourself, Sabina.”
Her lips tuned down as she took her time fastening each button. I could tell she stalled, as if a few extra seconds would allow me to feel remorse.
No chance.
“Why are you being like this?” she asked, standing up from the bed. Without answering, I grabbed her pocket book and handed it to her. “Is it her?” I blinked. “Are you fucking her?”
Sabina didn’t have to point to the front room where Breeze slept. It was pretty obvious who she meant. “Leave Breeze out of this,” I warned.
Her expression went slack. “You don’t even deny it.”
“I’m not fucking her!” I yelled, pushing her toward the door.
She shoved her hand into my chest, digging her heels into the carpet. “Oh, but you wish you were. What is it about her? I don’t see it.”
I let go of her. “Get out!”
“Shame, please, talk to me.” She came close to me, pulled at my waist and tried to get me to look at her. All I could think was what a desperate cow she was. “I want to be with you. We could have something you could never have with that little girl.”
Why did she have to change and want more?
The best thing about Sabina was she never complicated things. “That’s not the deal with us. You know that.”
“It could be.”
Her attempt at seduction wore thin. “No it can’t. Get this through your stubborn head. You’ll never be my old lady.”
She frowned. “Will she?”
Her desperation had officially grown pathetic. “Go home.”
“When did you become so weak?” she asked. “I know who she is, what she’s been through.” I ground my teeth and restrained from physically removing her. “Before you found her, she got around . . . a lot. I’m sure she’s already worked her way through the club. Keeping her around is dangerous.”
“Get out!” I ordered, grabbing her arm, and again shoving her toward the door.
“You’re hurting me!”
Her cries made me release her. She looked frightened. I didn’t want to hurt her.
I sighed. “I want things to be the way they’ve always been. I can’t do more than that.”
“Please don’t make me go,” she begged, her eyes watering. “I’m sorry I pushed.”
God dammit. I was weak. Seeing her tears, knowing I made her cry bothered me.
“Fine,” I said, controlled by the guilt, which had finally settled in. Like it or not, Sabina was different. I couldn’t treat her like I did the other club rats. I sat on the bed, burying my head in my hands.
“You’re protective of her,” Sabina said, sitting next to me.
“I care about her.” I slapped my hands to my knees and rubbed them a few times.
“I know.” Her fingers spread over my knuckles and curled around my fingers. “But be careful. A girl like Breeze uses sex to manipulate men. Trust me, I’m an expert.”
“You don’t know her,” I argued, feeling my anger returning.
“Seriously? It’s me you’re talking to. I’ve been her. Sex is survival and nothing more.”
“Sabi . . . she’s a virgin.”
Her deep, brown eyes widened, in a show of utter surprise. “I’ve heard different.”
“You heard wrong. She’s a good kid and it’s my job to keep her that way. There’s nothing else going on. Got it?” She nodded. “If you want me to keep fucking you, you’ll stop tripping on her.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.” She shrugged faintly. “I won’t bring it up again.”
“Good. Now that we’re clear . . .” I pressed her back onto the mattress. “Get naked.”
We also have a bad habit of pretending we are not miserable. We hide . . . but eventually we are found. We cannot run from the inevitable reminder of our failures forever. And we shouldn’t. The only way to end the misery, is to own the responsibility.