Playing Patience (25 page)

She was too young to be dealing with this. If I could take the pain of our dying mother away from her I would in a heartbeat.

I pulled her to me and wrapped her in my arms. “I don’t have a boyfriend. He’s just my friend and still, you and Mom are more important. No matter what she says from now on, you always call me.”

I walked into my mom’s room and was assaulted by the smell of vomit and sickness. She was lying in bed with her head rolled to the side. Had I not seen her chest moving, I would have thought she was dead. I shut the door behind me and the click caught her attention.

A forced smile spread across her face.

“Happy Birthday, baby girl. Again, another thing I’m happy I was able to see. Eighteen years old.” She gasped with each word.

Her fevered eyes took me in and her body shook constantly. Damn, it was hard to see this, but I’d be there no matter what.

I plastered on a big, fake smile. “Yep, the big eighteen.”

I spent hours in Mom’s room with her. I told her about my day with Zeke and she agreed that the McDonald’s thing was sweet. She’d have a fit of coughs every now and again and soon she was too exhausted to talk. Once she was asleep, I left her room and went to mine.

There was nothing worse than watching my mother die, but being ignored by Zeke sucked. A week later I still hadn’t heard from him. After the first two days of texting and him not responding, I gave up.

My dad came home that weekend and I tried to stay out as much as possible, but there was nowhere to go now that Megan was with Chet all the time. Most of the time I’d stay with Mom and when she wasn’t up for company and Sydney was busy, I’d walk to the neighborhood lake and sit until it was late enough to go home and get ready for bed.

Dad must have been busy because he didn’t bother me and I was glad for that.

The following week, I went to school like normal, practiced like normal, and had two games. By the time Friday rolled around, I was ready for the weekend. Megan begged me to go to Finn’s party, and after not seeing Zeke for that long, I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to know why he was ignoring me. I wanted to know what I did wrong.

After cornering him in the room and him sort of confessing he had feelings for me, I kissed him. At first he kissed me back and it was wonderful, but then suddenly asshole Zeke slipped into place and he pulled away.

“Don’t kiss me unless you plan on finishing the job this time,” he said as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

When I saw that damn snowflake tattoo on his arm, I was done. I knew the minute I saw it that it was for me, and it was the highlight of my week.

After he broke the kiss, he stormed from the room. I didn’t see him at the party again. I ended up being the third wheel to Megan and Chet and holding back tears all night. My life was a complete mess, but at least when I was with Zeke I could forget all that. With him removing himself out of my life, things felt ten times worse.

That night when Megan dropped me off, I crept through my house and tried to make it to my room without being seen by my dad. Tonight was not my lucky night and I passed him in the hallway. He followed me with angry eyes as I walked past him into my room. The door barely had time to click before he was opening it and coming in.

“Where’s your sister?” he asked.

I hated that he was asking about her. I hated the idea of him even thinking about her.

“She’s at a friend house,” I responded with my head down.

I wanted to be strong. I wanted to match his stare like a bad bitch until he left my room, but after everything he’d put me through and after being dismissed like nothing by Zeke, I was weak. I’d always been weak.

He grabbed my chin and slammed my head back.

“If you’re going to dress like a whore, the least you could do is look a man in the eye like a whore,” he hissed.

I said nothing. I just stared back at him and waited for whatever was to come. The closer he got, the more I could smell the alcohol on his breath. For a brief moment I felt relief since usually when he drank he would leave me alone and pass out, but this time was different. There was wildness in his eyes that felt off.

“I’m so disgusted by you. Just look at you.” He motioned to my clothes. “Just look at how you turned out. I’m so glad it’s not my blood that runs through your veins.”

The minute the words left his mouth, his expression followed his accident. His mouth gapped open like he was going to fix his mistake, but instead, he stared back at me with wide eyes.

“What did you just say?”

The entire house shifted and I felt the blood rush from my head. Surely I was hearing things. Maybe I drank too much at Finn’s party. I did take a couple drinks from people I didn’t know. Maybe something was slipped in my drink and I was really passed out somewhere in Finn’s garage, having a nightmare. All of that sounded better than what I’d heard.

Without fear, I pushed into his space.

“You’re not my father,” I said simply.

Somehow it made sense, and somehow it made the years of sex with this man a tiny bit better, but still, I felt sick to my stomach.

I looked up at him. I
really looked
at him like I hadn’t in many years since I didn’t have the nerve. I took in his facial features and his dark-brown eyes. Then my thoughts rushed to Sydney and her green eyes and then my mom… Her eyes were green as well. And just like that, everything was clear.

“You’re not. Oh my God, you’re not my father.”

He didn’t deny it. “It doesn’t matter. I raised you.”

“You abused me my entire life!” I yelled.

As soon as the words flew out of my mouth, he hushed me with the back of his hand. My face stung and my ears rang.

“You’ve always been a selfish girl, Patience. Do you know that?” He dug his fingers into my cheeks and forced me to look at him. “Are you so selfish that you’d tell your mother something like that so close to her death? Do you really want her to die with that on her chest? Let it go. You liked it as much as I did.”

And then he turned and walked away. I stood there and let everything sink in and then I crumpled to the floor with melted bones and cried until I fell asleep.

The next day I stayed in my room for most of the morning. I debated on whether or not to go to my mother and demand to know why no one told me the governor wasn’t my real father, but just like I’d never tell about the sexual abuse, I’d never tell her that I knew. It wouldn’t change anything, and with my mother on her death bed, I didn’t want to give her any reason to not die peacefully.

Then the memory of my mother telling me about her first love sank in. Maybe that was her way of telling me. Maybe that was her way of getting it off of her chest. My real father was a bad boy named Robert that she’d been forbidden to see. How fitting that I’d be in love with a bad boy myself. It was in my blood.

The man I’d been calling Dad my entire life wasn’t my dad, but he was definitely Sydney’s. She looked just like him, with the exception of her eyes. All these years, I’d been worried about him going to Sydney, and all these years she was really his while I wasn’t. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to do things to me. Maybe the thought that my blood wasn’t his own made it okay in his mind to have sex with me. Either way, I’d still keep a close eye on Sydney. The man was obviously sick and sick people aren’t picky.

Later that afternoon, the man who was working on Zeke’s guitar called and said it was all finished. He didn’t want to see me, but I knew what I had for him would make him happy.

I drove to the man’s shop. The little bell above the door sounded like my name when it rang. I pressed my forearms against the front counter and fidgeted as I waited for someone to help me.

A little gray-headed man came around from the back with a smile.

“What can I do for you, sweetie?”

“I dropped off a guitar and you called and said it was ready.”

I gave him my name. When he came out from the back again, he had a black guitar case in his hands.

“Here you go, little lady,” he said as he set the guitar case onto the counter.

He popped open the little latches on the side and opened the case. Inside was the black Fender I picked out. The bits of Zeke’s old guitar were intricately added to the front of the new guitar beautifully, especially the part where his mom had signed her name. It was personalized just for him.

He had no idea I’d picked up the broken bits of his guitar. I still felt like it was my fault that his most prized possession was destroyed. The least I could do was replace it, and I thought using pieces of the precious guitar his mother bought for him was a perfect idea.

I paid the man behind the counter an obscene amount of money and then walked to my car with the guitar in hand. Megan told me Zeke was staying with Tiny, so I called her and got directions to their apartment.

The drive across town wasn’t so shocking anymore. I remembered going to Zeke’s side of the world the first time and thinking how disgusting the place was. I remember thinking I could never live in a place like that, but now, when I drove to anywhere he was, I felt like I was going home, like I didn’t grow up in a million-dollar house, like I belonged somewhere for the first time in my life.

The ghetto apartment complex was worse than Zeke’s trailer park. I tapped on the door and was shocked when Tiny answered in his boxers.

“Is Zeke here?” I asked.

His eyes roamed up and down my body and I felt dirty.

“No, he went over to his dad’s place to get the rest of his shit.”

That wasn’t good.

“He went alone?” I asked with wide eyes.

He looked at me like I was an idiot.

“Ah, yeah. He left about…”

I didn’t even listen to the rest. I rushed to my car and jumped in. Thankfully, the apartment complex wasn’t far from the trailer park.

His dad’s tow truck was nowhere in sight, but his car was parked in the yard when I got there. I could hear his loud stereo outside the trailer, and I thought it was strange that he’d come to his dad’s and play loud music. I knocked extra hard on his door and after five knocks he never came. I was starting to get worried, so I tried the doorknob.

The door opened and I slipped into the small, smoky space. I shut the door behind me and called out his name. Still, I got no answer, which meant either he couldn’t hear me or I couldn’t hear him. The music was so loud it seemed to be shaking the tiny trailer. The guitar was pulling my arm down, so I sat it up on the grimy, plaid couch and worked my arm to ease the tension that had worked into my elbow.

I heard a noise coming from his room and figured he was back there packing. Maybe he had his shirt off and I’d catch him with only a pair of those deliciously ripped jeans he was fond of. Hopefully they were the ones that barely held onto his hips and showed his sexy tattoos. I’d seen him without a shirt on before and I’d seen every tattoo he had down into his pants line. I wasn’t disappointed; nothing physical about Zeke was disappointing.

I found it funny that such a dangerous guy like Zeke would be the one that finally caught my attention. I wasn’t the kind of girl that looked for trouble. Especially since trouble seemed to find me at least once a week, but something about him caught me and reeled me in. Getting to know him and seeing the secret parts of him made my attachment to him all the better. He was perfect for me.

The soft floor of the hallway buckled under my feet. The door to his bedroom was cracked so I pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped inside. I’d secretly wished I’d catch Zeke half naked, but when I’d wished that, I’d wished he was alone when I caught him. What I saw before me was like a punch to the ribs.

Zeke was lying on his bed, his hands behind his head as he relaxed against the headboard. The redhead straddling him was pressing herself against him in every way possible. The rhythm of the headboard hitting the brown paneled wall made my stomach turn. The sounds of the creaking mattress made me want to drop to my knees and cover my ears. I knew those sounds well and they brought nothing but nightmares.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to slowly dissolve into nothing and float away in the air, blown around by the clicking, circulating fan at the foot of his bed. The messed-up part was I couldn’t be mad. He wasn’t mine and as badly as I wanted to be the one having carefree sex with him, I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t do it.

Seriously? What else could the universe drop on me at this point? I’d all but died inside on several occasions in my life. You’d think finally I’d just drop, but I kept going and I kept running into things that broke down my spirit. Seeing Zeke have sex with another girl was breaking me big time.

In that moment the remaining open doors to my soul slammed shut. Zeke was it for me, and if I couldn’t bring myself to give him the part of me that was taken away so many years ago, then there would be no one else. All the thoughts of a physical relationship in my life drifted away. The thoughts of marriage, children, or real life in general were gone in the blink of an eye.

He was only receiving what I could never give him. Proof was purring and bouncing in front of me. I could never be what Zeke needed or wanted. The crescent moon tattoo on her lower back matched the star tattoo on his hand that was now gripping her ass. I couldn’t take my eyes off the two tattoos. They were symbolic to me. They were a sign that they belonged together and I was the starless wonder who belonged in the sanitized, padded walls of my supposed safe world. The truth was I was safer in this broken-down trailer park surrounded by drug deals and gang members than I was in my own home.

And then I saw his snowflake tattoo and I died a little more. How could he brand me on his skin that way and then have carefree, meaningless sex with someone else? What kind of person does that?

I stared at the single snowflake. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.

The redhead made a loud whining noise, causing me to avert my attention. I knew in the back of my mind I should slowly exit the room, but I couldn’t peel my eyes away from her. The way her long, crimson curls swayed across her hips, the arch in her back, her perfect rhythm as she pleasured him with her body—it was all so hypnotic. She gave herself so freely and I envied that freedom.