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I recall all the times I stalked her. That I lurked in the shadows to catch a glimpse of the girl I would never move on from. But I don’t dare admit the truth. Instead, I say, “You’re right.”
“I’m not going to judge you for what you did, Coen, whatever it is, I can handle it.” She reaches across the table and latches onto my hand. “I know you still see me as that fractured girl in the cemetery, but I outgrew her a long time ago. You might think you’ve changed, but so have I.”
I consider my next move, a large part of me wanting to confess everything, but all of those underlying insecurities rising to the surface telling me to keep my mouth shut. I fight both versions of myself and study the gorgeous face of the woman in front of me. She really is right. We’re not those same kids from before. Our love for each other the only thing that truly remains from that time long ago.
“My dad,” I begin. “He pissed some really powerful people off.” I unravel the story one piece at a time, glossing over the details that aren’t totally necessary. “He didn’t tell me everything, but from what I gathered, they threatened him...something so bad that he shoved everything he could into the bed of that old pickup and nearly dragged me out of the house kicking and screaming. It wasn’t until one drunken night that he confessed what happened with my mom.”
June holds onto my hand tighter, an anchor keeping me from spiraling at the recollection of my life being turned upside down.
“He’s the reason why she died, J. My fucking dad.”
“Co…” A tear rolls down her cheek.
“He said those same people were after him, that they were after me, too, and that we had to run.” I take a breath in and exhale. “We hopped around different motels, never staying more than a couple nights at a time. We were running out of money, not like we had much to begin with…” I look at her. “You remember what it was like growing up.”
June nods. “Yeah.”
“I found a dollar that day. I was kicking rocks in the parking lot of a run-down motel, saw it peeking out from under some leaves. I couldn’t believe it; thought I had hit the lottery. I was so fucking excited that all I could think about was the vending machine I had passed twenty times already. I ran right to it, straightening the edges of the bill on the side of the machine before shoving it in the little slot. I even remember the button I hit, D3, and the sound of it whirling to life, the swirly thing pushing the bag of powdered donuts closer and closer to the edge. They thudded when they hit the bottom, and I nearly got my hand stuck when I reached inside to pull them out. It was stupid, really, to be that excited, but it felt like the first good thing that had happened in a while.”
I let my gaze trail to our interlocked hands, hoping like hell it’ll give me the strength to continue the story, to reach the plot twist that set my life spiraling out of control.
“But when I was on my way back, this pit formed in my stomach. You ever get that? When something is about to go wrong?”
June bobs her head in agreement.
“I could hear commotion, people screaming at each other. Which wasn’t all that uncommon considering where we usually shacked up. But this one felt different. Bigger.” I think back to that day, the scent of the damp air so strong it’s like I’m there now. It was dark out, but there were overhead lights, some of them flickering, some not on at all. “I paused at the corner of the building, poking my head around it and trying to figure out what it was. That’s when I saw him…”
June seems to hold her breath in anticipation of what I'm about to say next.
“My dad, kneeling on the ground, his hands tied behind him. A man, easily twice his size punched him across the face. Blood and spit went flying everywhere. The guy grabbed my dad’s collar and pulled him up again. But this time, he didn’t use his fist. For a brief second, my dad looked directly at me and shook his head. It was subtle, barely even recognizable, but I could tell he was warning me not to come any closer. And like the coward I was, I stayed concealed in place, my hands gripping that wall and watching as that stranger put a bullet between my dad’s eyes.”
“Co…”
“I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight them, do something. But I couldn’t. All I could do was watch as the other guy with my dad’s murderer ransacked our motel room, probably looking for me. They climbed into a white panel van and drove away, leaving my dad there to bleed out.”
June moves from her seat and comes over to me, wrapping her arms around my head and hugging me to her chest.
“I was so mad,” I tell her. “They took my mom, they took you, they took my dad.”
She tilts my face up at her. “I’m right here, Co, I’m right here.”
“I couldn’t let them hurt you, J. I had to stay away; it was the only way I could keep you safe.”
“Shh, I know.” She presses her lips to my forehead over and over. “I understand.”
She might understand but does she believe me? Does she realize that all I ever did was want to protect her? That bringing her into this world was never an option in my mind, and that doing so has only made me fear for her that much more? I wanted more than anything to be with her, but I could never be selfish with her, not when it meant risking her life. There was no escaping this for me, but for her, there was hope.
I bring her onto my lap and hold on tight, never wanting to let my sweet girl go. “All I had was a license plate number and enough rage to burn down the entire city.”
“Is that what you did, Co? The thing you’re afraid to tell me about?” June runs her fingers through my hair and settles her hand along my cheek.
“Dominic was the one to find me, after I went on my rampage.” I swallow and play the memory in my mind. Blood everywhere. Caked on my hands. Pooled around my feet. Dead bodies lying haphazardly around. Something from a horror film, caused by a teenager hellbent on getting revenge. “He should have killed me right there. But he didn’t, he saw my potential.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad he didn’t.”
I stare into her eyes, willing her to really understand what I’m about to say. “If you saw what I had done, I’m not so sure you’d feel the same.”
5
