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She hands it to me, her eyes never leaving mine.
Opening it, I pull the form free. It’s identical to the one shown on the internet by theShelby Chronicleonly this one is pristine, like Joi deliberately obscured the other one.
Nothing prepares me for the soul-shattering news within.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Nikki
There isone thing and one thing only on my mind when we get back to the farmhouse:Get my stuff and get the hell away from this man before he buries me in one of his fields.
After getting the information, he called LL and told him everything as a client, not just a candidate. LL was furious with me and even threw out the wordannulment, to which Mathias cut his eyes to me, immediately responding, “Fuck, no.”
LL’s response was quick, a true testament to his savvy as a lawyer and a political operative. “Okay, new plan. We won’t address it. No one has evidence of it. You have the only copy. The fact she was born in Bryce Hospital is good because mental health records fall under the patient privacy clause, and the hospital can be liable for one of their patients getting pregnant, so no wonder you could never find anything.” Then he continued matter-of-factly. “We will put out a statement that we are not falling for any distractions at the last moment of the campaign. We are not Change You Can Believe In ’08 giving credence to birth certificate allegations. If it matters so much you to be honest with your constituents, then release a statement next year once you are a United States senator and you’ve started delivering for the people and see if they still care. For now, y’all just need to stick to the plan and present a united front. Can you do that?”
“Yeah,” Mathias snapped, not even looking at me, focusing on the road instead.
I’ve been off the campaign trail for nearly two weeks. It’s obvious he doesn’t need me, I surmise as we pull up to the house. I need to leave. Perhaps go back to Valentine and Summer’s house and steer clear of Mathias until he’s elected, then move to DC on my own and do the job Creative Chaos expects of me. I know this is a bridge too far. This betrayal—this lie—is worse in so many ways now that I know the whole terrible story with his father.
Mama- and Pa-Pete’s house is vacant now that they moved into Angel’s hidden mansion with Easy, maybe I can go there or back to Summer and Val’s. I missed Bernice Sanders Anyway, I haven’t seen her in weeks since I joined the campaign.
“Get out,” he says, making me look up from my mental planning after he’s opened my side of the car. I comply, then jump when he slams the door so hard, the whole truck shudders.
Trudging the distance to the house, I note how different we are tonight than the last time we came here. I don’t think we will ever be like that again—so open, trusting.
He leaves me to close the door. I do, the soft click so final that my tummy drops to my toes. A fully illuminated living room greets me when I enter.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his face a cold mask as soon as I come to the seating area where he looks up at me , his face an amalgamation of anger, hurt and disappointment. It’s a large U shape of the deepest gray. Big soft cushions allow you to sit and watch the huge TV. Inside alternating cushions is an alcove housing game controls and books, now that he’s moved my things in. I remind myself to make sure I pack my new special editions I got through a Kickstarter campaign featuring some of my favorite authors.
“I was scared,” I say simply, shrugging. I’m shutting down, helpless to do anything other than watch as my world comes apart before my eyes. For a moment I watch sheer consternation flood his face before it’s supplanted by a paroxysm of fury.
“Six years,” he roars. I swear the rafters shake from the sound. “Six fucking years of being my best fucking friend, and you decide to tell me on the eve of the most important accomplishment in my life that you have been lying form day fucking one?” His eyes are more thunderous than the outer rim a tornado. He’s looking at me like I’m foreign to him, some obscure artifact he can’t wrap his head around. Like he doesn’t know me. “Ain’t no fucking way, man…” His hands cover both sides of his head. His fingers rip through the inky-black locks of his hair.
I step back, and he stops me with a furious glare.
“Why didn’t you say anything when you turned eighteen and graduated high school? You were free to do what you wanted. Oh, wait.” He shakes his head ruefully with a bitter chuckle. “You just turned sixteen four years ago, I forgot. You were onlysixteenwhen you graduated andfourteenwhen we met.”
Then he looks like he’s going to be sick. He drops down on the sofa like he’s been sucker punched. His face ashens like his gorge is rising, and he’s likely to throw up all over the Alabama red oak floor.
For a moment I wonder why. Then it dawns on me. When he thought I turned eighteen, he started to look at me differently. Like a man looks at a woman he’s attracted to. I was only sixteen then, and even though it’s the age of consent in Alabama, he’s still grossed out.
“Thi,” I say, my hands splayed in my defense. “I’m sorry, okay? I was still a scared kid.”
“Why, though? When have ever I showed you anything other than kindness?”
Silence falls between us, and he looks at me intensely, waiting for an answer.
“I don’t like repeating myself,wife.” He says the last word like an epithet.
“Of losing you.” I squeeze my eyes closed. Hear the pounding in my ears as I build my courage to say the rest. The backs of my eyelids burn so badly, I swear I’m going to make myself blind. “I—”
“You never had me, you silly little bitch. You were just some kid I helped to get out of trouble. Just a means to an end, so I wouldn’t derail my future.” His gaze rakes me with disgust.
“I know,” I whisper miserably. I knew that. He said as much at the time, in an offhanded joking manner. I guess he really meant it.
“Now, ah…now, you’re just good, convenient pussy at my beck and call.” His mouth curls with cruelty.
“You got your fucking ex-fiancée at your beck and call. She’d come right now if you called her. What the fuck do you want with me?” I cut in, not about to take his bullshit. He knows I had nothing to do with that story leaking—that was all Joi. “All those late-night meetings—and you’re the bitch, bitch. An unfaithful one too.” My throat is raw with unspent anger and bitterness over how he keeps going to her, defending her.
