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“I have a thing for Eliza Walsh. You hurt her. She’s still fixing the pieces of herself. The pieces you broke.”
“It didn’t get far enough for me to fuck around and break anything!”
Donnie went for another punch but I was quicker. My knuckles hit his lips. It wasn’t smart. I should have gone for the throat or nose. Krav Maga was all about getting in and out as fast as possible. Take ten seconds to fuck your opponent up and take the few seconds while they were down to run. But I didn’t want to run.
“You better hope your daddy is as good of a lawyer as they say, because you’re going to need it.”
I made a move forward, but he dodged my punch. I pulled back, scolding myself. I was getting sloppy in my desperation.
“I didn’t even get what I was after,” Donnie said. “But it looks like you did. Eliza put you up to this? Or you just pissed that someone else almost had their dick in that cunt’s pretty pussy? I got a look at it. Her tits were nice too. She tasted sweet, like the rum and coke she was drinking. I always think of her when I drink rum now.”
That was all it took. I saw red. One well timed shot to his throat paused his punches. I grabbed his neck and I went in for the perfect teeth. I felt several cracks and something gave way. My knuckles were crimson except in the spots where the bone was exposed.
Donnie wasn’t knocked out cold or anything, just leaning against the alley wall, picking up pieces of his teeth.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, ignoring the blood dripping down my hands. “Hey Dad. I think I need a lawyer.”
29
ELIZA
Iignored his calls, his texts, him trying to corner me at school. I missed him. God, it hurt so bad, but I monopolized Rosalie’s time and we partied every weekend. When I wasn’t barfing up my guts, I was writing. And rehearsing. And studying for that damn math final. I missed our little tutoring sessions.
I wasn’t planning on going on the trip. I was going to get as many deposits and refunds back as possible (which weren’t that many) but when I got my final algebra grade (a B-) I suddenly felt like I could take on the world. I even added a few extra days onto what was now my solo road trip! TakethatTrask and Trask’s posh parents. Eliza Walsh was road-tripping despite it all!
It didn’t stop me from crying myself to sleep in Trask’s sweatshirt, inhaling the lingering scent of him. I was at my grandparents a lot more now that I didn’t have Trask’s place to crash at. Rosalie and Drake were going through their own little spat and I wanted to give them space for when Drake inevitably showed up.
Most of my things were packed up anyway, either at Rosalie’s or in my car. I wasn’t planning on staying here more than I had to. Technically tomorrow was my last day of probation. I had the big book launch and signing tomorrow evening, a night in a fancy hotel, and then I’d be on the open road.
“You really did it?” Grandma asked from her spot on the couch, cigarette in hand.
“I’ll be out of your hair for good come tomorrow.”
My grandpa snorted from his recliner, bottle in hand. “We’ll miss you around here.
“Sure you will.” I rolled my eyes and opened my own beer.
A car pulled into the driveway and our heads swung to the front window.
“Eliza,” my grandma started, toying with a ball of yarn in her lap. “Your mama got out.”
My mouth went dry. “What? When?”
“She’s got nowhere to go. We hoped she could take your old room since you’re leaving and all.”
“That’s right!” a familiar voice said as the woman of the hour entered the double-wide.
“Speak of the devil and she appears.” I grabbed a bottle from the fridge. “Take the couch for tonight. I reserve the right to spend my last night here in a bed.”
“You ain’t supposed to get here ‘till tomorrow,” my grandpa said. He had a strange smile on his face, like he was excited to see his daughter and also disgusted.
My mother shrugged. “Plans change.”
“Nothing for your mama?” She reeked of cigarettes, prison, and sex. “Not even a little hug?”
“Fuck you.” I slammed my door shut, locked it, and did what any normal person would do when alone and on the verge of a panic attack. I turned on trashy TV on my computer and drank a bottle of cheap strawberry-flavored prosecco I had stashed earlier. I also waited for my nightly text and call from Trask. It was like clockwork. A phone call and a voice message asking me to respond quickly followed by a text.
Maybe it was my inebriated state, maybe it was the nerves, maybe it was the fact that my fucking mother was back in town. But when Trask called, I answered.
