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“Hey Rapist,” she says.
Lovely. I clench my jaw, biting back what I really want to say to her. Physically she’s stunning with a perfect hourglass shape, long brown hair falling down to the middle of her back, and those eyes. The most interesting hazel eyes I’ve ever seen with specks of green. But her mouth is vile.
“It’s Nash,” I say, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Her lips turn into a smirk, “Nah. Rapist is more fitting for you, asshole. Now move. Some of us actually have a life.”
I stare down at her when I notice her dilated pupils and shaky hands. She scratches at her arms as if bugs are crawling all over her. In an instant I spot the obvious. She’s on fucking drugs.
“Rapist huh?”
She doesn’t say anything, just keeps glaring daggers at me. I don’t know what I ever did to her, but if looks could kill, I’d be dead. “How long has it been since you used, Ice Princess?”
She scoffs, “I don’t do heroin like you, Rapist. I only take what a doctor prescribes me.”
Great, she seems to really be sticking with this not-so-creative nickname for me.If she’s trying to get under my skin, it’s working although I never let her know that. I’ve never raped anyone. I’m aware that’s simply a technicality.
“And what did the doctor prescribe you?”
Ivy uncrosses her arms and puts her hands on her hips, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve had cancer multiple times. The last time I had surgery to remove a tumor, they prescribed me Oxy.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, “I’m sorry to hear that. How long ago was that?”
I’m pretty sure that the scowl on her face may be permanent. This young woman is very pissed off. The anger pours from her. I just don’t know why.
“Three months ago. Now fucking move before I move you.”
I laugh because, given her shakiness at the moment, she couldn’t move a toddler, “Three months and you’re still in so much pain you need painkillers? That’s odd. Just so you know, Ice Princess, your oxy is the same thing as heroin. The only difference is where you get it. I haven’t used it in fifteen years. By the looks of it, you on the other hand, it’s been about four hours. You’re withdrawing.”
“Fuck you. Forget this,” she bites and turns on her heel down the hall toward the living room, where I follow when I hear her say, “I’m going to Lins.”
My dad hisses, “No young lady, you’re not. We are having a family lunch.”
She puts her shoes on and glares at him, “No Liam, you’re having a family lunch. I don’t want any part of this fucking family.”
With that, she’s out the door while my dad runs a hand through his hair, appearing heartbroken. Shortly after my arrest, my dad told me that a child can break a parent’s heart far more than anyone else. I scoffed at the time, but I understand what he meant right now.
CHAPTER FOUR
IVY
It was my seventh birthday when the twins came home from the hospital with proud Liam and Mercy. It wasn’t the worst birthday gift at the time, I was excited. The elation didn’t last long, however. It was the day everything began to change in my world, and not for the better. Before that day, my adoptive parents were like a dream. When my mom left me with nothing more than broken pieces, Mercy glued them back together. She glued me back together. Back then, I couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t be my best friend. Mercy dried my tears, laughed with me, and watched Disney movie after Disney movie with me. She encouraged my love of painting. The two things that made life bearable for this kid fighting cancer in a hospital while her mom abandoned her-Mercy and painting. Dr. L, as I used to call Liam, was also good to me. However, I didn’t spend nearly as much time with him as with her.
The biggest thing I remember from that day is being home at our house with Aunt Elle when they came in with Ryder and Riley. Ryder was a quiet baby, but Riley was the polar opposite. All she did was scream from the moment they walked in, and I don’t think that’s ever changed. I went from being doted on, the center of their universe, to nothing. Riley took up all their time. She made Mercy cry a lot. My adoptive mother tried everything. Rocking her, singing, reading, walking back and forth. But Riley was inconsolable. I once heard Mercy telling Aunt Elle that she cried twenty hours daily. I took the backseat to the twins. Was it because Riley was so difficult? Or was the truth that I’m not really theirs? It’s a question I struggled with through the years.
Riley was diagnosed with autism when she was four years old and still isn’t speaking. She’s non-verbal, but she most certainly isn’t silent. Still today, she screams constantly, sometimes, she rocks back and forth, or Mercy’s least favorite, bangs her head against the wall. I know, I know, I’m a horrible bitch for feeling so angry when Mercy is constantly on the edge of unraveling. Before Riley, we were fine, happy even. I was loved. I’m not unloved now, I'm just non-existent. That’s worse than being hated. Everybody wants to be seen, don’t they? I’m not the black sheep. I’m not the worst thing that ever happened to them. But the twins are the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Worse than my mother abandoning me. Worse than cancer. They made me invisible.
Almost four months ago, they found a tumor. After some testing, they found it was cancer again. I wasn’t even eighteen yet and had cancer three times. I prayed to die. I didn’t want to live my life anymore, being invisible. The pain was too great. I couldn’t refuse the surgery because I was not an adult. My adoptive parents held all the cards. So, I had the surgery and was gifted a prescription that did more than numb the pain from the surgery. It numbed my mind. It was the solution to all my problems, or so I thought. I was given two prescriptions for Oxy. At the end of the second, I was lost. I needed it, but I couldn’t get any more. Doctors are cautious with Oxy, apparently, because it can be addictive. I wasn’t addicted, though. I just wanted to silence the loud voices.
“They don’t love you because you’re not good enough.”
“You’re trash just like your mom.”
“You’ll never be theirs.”
“Riley and Ryder share their DNA and you don’t.”
Obviously, these are not words Mercy and Liam have ever spoken to me. It’s my never-ending internal dialog. That voice inside my head. I fucking hate that bitch.
