Tattered Love
Page 19

 Lola Stark

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“You can’t control everything, Mace. You need to accept that, and Scarlett wanted you regardless. She loves you. That’s hard to find, brother. Don’t give up on it”.
“I do know. I just don’t want to be the reason she gets hurt,” I told him quietly.
“Well it’s too fuckin’ late for that.” Wait! What? I had no idea what he was on about. The thought something had happened to Scarlett crossed my mind. I instantly jumped up grabbing him by the shirt.
“What do you mean too late? Fuck. Is Scarlett hurt? Why didn’t you say something?” I yelled in his face, pushing him out of my way and making for the front door. Blood rushing in my ears, a sharp pain in my chest at the thought of Scarlett hurt.
“Stop, you idiot! She’s not hurt like you think.” Stopping dead in my tracks, I spun around, adrenaline still rushing through me.
“Spit it the fuck out before I beat it outta you.” My conflicting feelings were turning me into an ass and I knew it, but that didn’t mean I could do a whole lot about it.
Trip let out a sigh, running his hand through his Mohawk. “She’s had shit happening. The other day, I saw her entire front garden was ripped out. I know she didn’t do it. She broke down at work. Scar doesn’t cry, Mace. I held onto her while she lost it. She’s really hurting.”
“I’m doing it for her own good; do you think I want to hurt her?” Flopping down on the couch I held my head in my hands. I couldn’t keep doing this to either of us, something had to give.
“That’s not all. I just went over there when she didn’t show for work this morning and she sounded like shit on the phone. I found her hung over an empty bottle which was smashed up on her back deck. There’s graffiti all over the place. I’m not talking a little bit, Mace. The entire back deck wall was covered. Even the word ‘slut’ in huge ass letters. It’s a mess, dude. She’s a mess”.
“Come again?”
“I think there’s more going on with Scar than she’s telling me. She didn’t want anyone to know what’s happened. Look, she’s a grown woman, but she’s still Scar, She’s like a little sister to me and you know that. I’m really worried she’s in trouble. She won’t let anyone help. Shit, I had to sneak up on her to find out what little I did.”
My anger flared, blood roaring in my ears “I—I didn’t know. Why isn’t she telling anyone anything? I balled my fists holding the rage in “Why the fuck hasn’t anyone noticed anything?” I had to stop myself from tearing the hell out of the house and breaking everything in sight. I felt the heat in my face, the veins popping in my neck as I barely held it together. “Calm the fuck down, dude. She won’t. One, she thinks she can handle everything on her own; it’s all she’s ever done. Two, you—you screwed her over.” Trip sighed. “Look, she sort of let on that because you two spilt, she’s not inclined to share with me. I gotta say that pisses me the hell off. I love that girl. She’s just as much family as you and the girls, and you’ve fucked that up.”
Sighing with frustration, I looked earnestly at Trip. “Something just doesn’t feel right, man. I think I made the wrong decision; it wouldn’t matter what I did, Janelle was gonna fuck this up”
Fuck me! I knew I should’ve heard from Janelle by now. I gripped the back of my neck feeling the muscles there tight with worry and stress; she hadn’t contacted me for money. She should have by now, even though I’d cut her off. I knew she wouldn’t give up until she got what she wanted.
Fuck this shit.
“I’ll need your help then,” I told Trip, my decision made.
“With?” he asked, eyebrows raised at my sudden determination.
“I need to get my girl back, don’t I!”
“’Bout fuckin time, dickhead,” he said, a giant smile spreading across his face. “What you got in mind?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It had been a few days since I had my falling out with Trip. He seemed to be keeping something from me. I supposed he was trying to hide the fact he’d told Mace about my meltdown.
I was standing in the kitchen, the sun streaming through the windows, sipping my coffee and glaring at his favorite mug on the dish rack. I was tired and angry. How dare Mace be so gutless and just leave like that! Frankly, I didn’t give a shit if he thought he was doing the right thing or not. It was a spineless asshole move.
He went and made me fall in love with him. He broke down all my freaking walls, which I’d erected high enough to feel safe again. And left. Just like that. Walked right out my front door.
The sleepless nights were getting to me. My mood swings were making me hell to be around, and I was sick to death of crying and being emotional.
Well fuck him! If he didn’t want me, that was just fine and mother fucking dandy!
I stomped over to the dish rack, picked up his mug and threw it hard at the wall. The sound of the porcelain breaking was shrill, making my ears throb. Staring down at the broken fragments somehow made me emotional again. Those shards almost representing my broken relationship with the selfish man I loved. My eyes blurred as I leaned my hip on the counter with a shaky sigh.
I didn’t need him or his stupid shit.
Dumping my own coffee into the sink, I made for the carport turning up Pantera on the stereo as I went. Pulling on my boxing gloves, I took my frustration and anger out on the floor to ceiling boxing bag, picturing Mace’s face as I went. I pounded the bag harder with gritted teeth.
Take that, fuck face!
After an hour of punching the hell out of my bag, even with raw knuckles, I found no relief from the messed up thoughts in my head. I showered and dressed for the day, but before I did anything else, I needed to remove him from my daily life. I was a big fat bag of mixed emotions, and I’d had enough of being such a pussy. I don’t cry. I never did this squishy emotion bullshit. Stomping through my house with a box in my hand, I threw everything Mace had left behind into it. I sure as shit didn’t need his crap lying all over the place making it harder for me. Sealing up the box, I took it to the spare bedroom and shoved it in the far corner of the closet.
Mulling over my situation, I busied myself downstairs tidying up, playing music and generally occupying myself. Everyday had been a struggle, working with Trip and not asking how Mace was; if he was suffering like I was, it was doing my head in. Living across the road from him and not storming over there to kick his ass for hurting me was killing me to the point I had been staying at Teeny’s place some nights. That was changing. I wasn’t going to be that girl, the girl who cried and sulked over an asshole.
Unfortunately, the surveillance cameras hadn’t gotten a good shot of whoever screwed with my car, which still wasn’t fixed. The damage wasn’t as bad as we first thought, but it was expensive. Thank God, I had good insurance. That wasn’t the last of the vandalism though, a bunch of strange things had been happening. They were increasingly getting worse and I was beginning to get a little worried.
“Scar, where are you?”
“Kitchen!” I called out. Teeny had come round to stay the night with me. Along with the weird shit that had been happening, I had an increasing feeling like I was being watched. It was creeping me the hell out. I hadn’t told anyone about the notes. I just thought it was Janelle stirring shit, but after the one I got just before Teeny showed up, I decided it wasn’t just somebody screwing round; it was serious now.
“What’s going on, hun?” she asked, plopping down on the bar stool at the kitchen counter and dumping her overnight bag on the floor.
I pushed the tray of nachos back into the oven and turned around. “I’ve been getting a heap of these weird letters. They’re address to me. I get home from work and there’s usually one under the door. Anyway, I wasn’t worried about them until this one today. Now, I’m completely creeped out.” I slid the letter over to her and watched as she read it. The color drained from her face as she put it back down.
“First of all, why the fuck haven’t you told me about this sooner?” Teeny sat perfectly still; she may have raised her voice, but I knew full well the storm was about to hit.
“Well, you’ve got your own stuff going on and it wasn’t a big deal. I mean, I know who’s doing it and I can take care of myself.” I turned, avoiding the evil stink eye she was giving me. Teeny had a special talent when it came to the stink eye.
“Since when do you keep secrets from me? When did it become okay to not tell your best fucking friend what’s going on?” she screamed, slamming her hand down on the countertop.
“For fucks sake, calm the hell down!” I snapped.
She was being a big fucking hypocrite right now and I was gonna call her on it. I leaned across the kitchen counter, my face right in hers. In a deathly-calm quiet voice, I told her, “You don’t get to yell at me for keeping this from you. You, Teeny Louise, have been keeping a secret from me for weeks now. Care to share, or are you just going to continue spouting shit?”
Teeny’s face visibly paled and she stammered, “I-I-it’s just, I can’t. You can’t—I—”
“You know, I’ll find out sooner or later, and you just ripped me a new asshole for lying to you!”
A pained expression crossed her face before she blurted, “I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, alright! That’s my big secret.”
I went completely silent. Unsure if I’d even heard her right. Teeny was pregnant. No, that couldn’t be right. “You’re pregnant,” I muttered a little hurt that she hadn’t told me before now. “You’re pregnant and you didn’t tell me.” This time a little louder.
“I—well, I just didn’t know how—what to do with it. I can’t have a kid. At first, I wasn’t even sure, but then—and well, you’ve been busy with Mace, and then you two broke up and…Yeah, I am.” She babbled, looking nervous and scared all at once, definitely not happy about it.
“You’re not excited? Does—wait, you haven’t been dating anyone.” Now I was just plain confused again. Teeny was far from being a slut. “Who?”
“Trip,” she whispered, looking down at the bench. That one word rocked my world. A gasp escaped my lips as I bought my hand up to my mouth.
Oh shit.
“You can’t say anything to anyone. Nobody else knows. I mean nobody. I haven’t told Trip. I don’t even know what I’m going to do about it.” She rushed out, looking conflicted and unsure. So unlike my Teeny, it wasn’t funny.
I rounded the counter and gripped her tightly against me. “Oh, babes, it’ll be okay, I promise. We’ll figure something out. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I figured if I didn’t say it out loud, it isn’t happening and I’d have time to get my head together.”
An hour later, still standing in the kitchen, we pulled ourselves together. I’d held Teeny while she had a meltdown, and she’d made me tell her everything that had been going on with me, about all the letters, the garden, the back deck, all of it.