Valiant
“I had a couple of relationships. They didn’t work out.”
Seems like a fairly common answer.
“Did you love any of them?”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “One,” I admit. “But I’m over it now.”
Liar.
Liar.
Horrible liar.
I might not love York, but the damage he did, I feel like it’ll live with me forever.
“I think that’s part of the reason I don’t get into relationships,” he says, his voice husky. “I don’t think I could handle the heartbreak that comes if it didn’t work out and you were in love.”
“Heartbreak sucks,” I admit with a nod. “But I think it also helps define you. Life isn’t always meant to be easy. It’s the hard times that shape our character the most, I think.”
“I think you might be right.”
I smile.
“Yo! Where’s the party at!” Quinn calls, and there is a thump on the roof.
“Dude, they might be making babies.” Phoenix chuckles.
“God, you two are so gross,” Molly mutters. “Seriously.”
“Well, the kid has a point,” Roman adds. “They might be doing the horizontal—”
“Roman!” Molly scoffs.
I giggle, and Jack chuckles.
“Guess our quiet time is over.”
I smile up at the stars and whisper, “I don’t mind.”
And I don’t.
I really don’t.
CHAPTER 13
THEN – MADDIE
“Rae, stop,” I say, holding a hand out in front of me. “Seriously, just stop.”
She laughs wildly, throwing her head back. “You’re so dramatic, Mad. I’m just mucking around.”
She swings the knife in her hand around, as if it’s nothing more than a stuffed toy.
“You could hurt yourself, put it down.”
She waves the knife in my face, then laughs hysterically again. “With this old thing? I don’t think so. I’m making dinner. You should try it.”
I stare at the horrible mess on the counter.
Making dinner.
No. The girl is making a freaking big mess, that’s what she’s making. I know she won’t eat it, either. No, she’ll cook it and waste it. She’s fading away to a shadow. I know she’s using. I know it. York denies it. She denies it. But I’m not stupid. Every time I raise the subject, though, she goes off on me. York just dismisses it, saying he’d know if she was using.
But how would he know, when he’s just as bad?
“Well, I’ll finish it for you. Give me the knife.”
She swings the knife in my direction, chirping an, “Okay.”
I reach out automatically and grab it without thinking, curling my hand around the blade. Pain shoots through my palm and I cry out, dropping the knife to the ground with a clang. Rae starts laughing harder as she stares at my hand. Blood pools and then starts flowing down my wrist and arm. I can feel right away it’s a bad cut.
“That was so funny!” Rae giggles.
I want to beat her.
“Get me a towel, Rae,” I snap.
She just keeps laughing, head thrown back. “Nah, I’m going out. Good luck with that.”
She turns and practically skips out the front door. I stare down at my hand, which is now covered in blood. I reach for a dish towel and wrap it around, wincing in pain.
“What happened?”
I turn to see York coming through the front door, looking drawn out and tired.
“Ask your damned sister what happened. She’s using, York. I wish you’d see it. I’m so tired of running around after the both of you. You’re like fucking children. Dammit.”
I’m angry.
And sore.
And just tired.
“I beg your pardon?” York says, his voice an icy whip. “What did you just say to me?”
I snap my mouth closed instantly. York storms towards me, and before I know it, his hand is curled around my shoulder and he’s slamming my back against the counter, towering over me. “I said,” he barks, “what the fuck did you just say to me?”
“I’m sorry,” I squeak. “I was just angry. I cut my hand because Rae was swinging around a knife. I’m just worried about her, and you, and I feel like no one is listening to me.”
He shakes me a little, hissing through his teeth, “We’re not children. She isn’t your problem. You’re the only one complaining around here, Maddie. No one else.”
“I know you’re doing drugs, and I just want to help you. I just want my man back. I just—”
Slap.
It comes hard and fast, straight across my cheek.
My head swings to the side, and my mouth drops open.
“You watch yourself. Don’t you ever accuse me of anything again.”
His voice is terrifying.
He’s so close. So big. So scary. I used to be the girl who wondered why people stayed in abusive relationships, why they put up with it, but with him leaning over me, terrifying me the way he is, I suddenly understand it. The fear. The horrible, chest-clenching fear.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I’m getting tired of your attitude. Stay out of my fucking business, and leave my sister alone.”
He steps back, glares at the blood all over the ground, and barks, “Clean this shit up.”
Then he turns and storms down the hallway.
A tear rolls down my cheek, and with a muffled sob, I drop to my hands and knees, ignoring the pain in my palm, and I start cleaning the floor.
What the hell am I becoming?
~*~*~*~
“I’m sorry, baby.”
A warm hand caresses down my back, and my eyelids flutter open. It takes me a moment to realise it’s York. The sun is shining down over me, and I wonder what time it is? Midday, maybe. I didn’t get to sleep until sometime in the morning. I was exhausted after cleaning the kitchen, Rae’s mess, and then my hand, which, probably needed stitches.
“York?” I croak sleepily.
“I’m sorry I hit you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please forgive me.”
I turn my head to the side and stare at him. He’s looking down at me, and the expression on his face seems genuine. His eyes are light. His face is not angry. I know, deep down in my belly, that it’s the drugs. He probably had a hit while I was sleeping and feels good again. This is what happens. He is good when he’s high and then angry and aggressive when he’s coming down.