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I need to find my life.
Monterey’s phone rings, breaking me from my thoughts. “My dad, be right back.” She leaves the table and I watch her ass sway as she moves closer to the entrance.
I finish off the rest of my breakfast. “Everything ok?” I ask after a few minutes once she’s returned.
“Great news.” Sarcasm lights up her eyes and I can tell by the look on her face what she has to tell me is anything but great. “We have a big meeting with PR once we get back to LA, and an expose with the LA Sun.”
I blink. “PR? Did something happen?”
Monterey chews on her bottom lip. “No, I’m sure it’s nothing major. Ricky Moore with the LA Sun wants an expose as well.”
I grit my teeth. “That asshole shouldn’t get a thing.” I get up, reaching for my wallet to throw a few bills on the table to cover lunch. “Finish your breakfast. I’ll wait in the car.”
“Danger,” Monterey says, but I’m already walking away.
I head outside, letting the warmth of the sun hit my face. I pull out a cigarette and light it up. I’ve noticed since I’ve been hanging out with Monterey more and more I’ve smoked less and less.
I wish this guy would just leave me alone already.
“Danger.” Monterey walks up to me, looking like innocence and fresh sunshine. “Can you talk to me?”
I puff on my cigarette. I don’t want to talk. I’m tired of talking. I’m tired of feeling. It gets exhausting after a while. I don’t know how women do it. How they can constantly have these emotions bursting through them at all times of the day. “Nothing,” I say, even though after I say it I realize it’s not the right response to the question she asked.
“Danger.”
I ignore her.
“Danger, will you…” Her words are cut off by my total lack of being able to even look at her.
And it’s not her I’m mad at. I’m not even mad. Just lost.
“Dylan, will you look at me?”
I drop my cigarette and stamp it out with my foot. I cross my arms and face her. “I’m sorry. I’m just under a lot of pressure.”
She stares at me, studying and assessing. “I know you are. I’ll try to get my father to cancel the exposé with the LA Sun.”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “You’re sure Ricky requested it?”
“Yes.”
“Actually, on second thought, I’ll do it.”
Once we arrive in Portland, Oregon, it’s late and I’m too tired to even make it up to our hotel room. Monterey deserves an explanation about Ricky Moore. How this motherfucker apparently knows me. I guess she deserves to know my story, but how can I ever tell her that? How can I tell her the horror which is my life?
“Monterey,” I say once she steps out of the bathroom. She’s dressed in yoga pants and a white tee, and I swear she’s never looked more gorgeous. “I’m sorry for being so cold earlier. For yelling at you. For all of it.”
She lays down in the bed beside me. “It’s ok. I know there’s things in your past you don’t want to talk about.”
I sigh, sitting up against the bed frame. “Yeah.”
She smiles as she snuggles up closer. “Dylan, it’s really ok. You don’t need to tell me anything.”
I love how cool she’s being. She’s giving me an out, and I should take it. I shouldn’t open up to her. But, a small part of me wants to—needs to.
“I didn’t have the best father growing up. He wasn’t a role model by any means. He was abusive to my mother.”
“I’m so sorry.” Monterey’s hand touches mine and it grounds me a little more. “Did he ever beat you, too?”
“No. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
She listens, waiting for me to continue.
“Everyday I wanted that asshole to notice me. And then the one night he did, it turned out to be a huge mistake.”
She gazes up at me as I stroke her hair. I can’t tell her anymore, even though it almost feels freeing to tell her everything.
“Did your mother ever get away from your dad? Is it why you left home?” she asks me.
The guilt of my life hangs heavy in my chest. “Yes. We both left.”
She smiles. “I’m glad.” She cuddles into me, and I wrap both arms around her, kissing the top of her head.
I don’t have the heart to tell her how my mother and I escaped our lives. How bad my father really was. And how everyday I fear I may turn out to be just like him.
But, can anyone really turn into a monster?
Is it possible to have joy when your heart is dead?
I kiss the top of her head again. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.” And it’s not a lie. I am so glad she’s here with me.
