“What’s Monica got to do with anything?”
“Screw Monica, and screw you, too! You were something I thought was good and real. For the first time I thought I had that! All you did was toss me away like yesterday’s trash!”
Mr. Miles took Brandi’s arm. “Honey, he’s drunk, let me handle him until the police arrive.”
“The police! No, I’ll handle him; you’ve done enough, thank you. You didn’t have to knock him around, Dad. I’ll handle Tim.”
“I don’t think you can.”
“He’s listening to me, at least. He may not be saying the words I want to hear, but he’s listening to me.”
“Honey, the neighbors.”
“I don’t care about them; let them look.” She returned to Tim. “Let’s go somewhere and talk; just you and I.”
He stood on wobbly legs. “We’ve talked enough. Why would you want to continue talking to someone you hate?”
She reached for his hand, but he pulled away. “Brandi, if you loved me, my past wouldn’t have mattered. I didn’t mean to kill him, but he was always on me. I was dying inside with every blow that kid gave me. No one would help me.” He looked at her father. “No one would believe me; that includes my brother.” He heard the sirens in the distance. “I’m leaving before the cops come. Don’t worry, I’ll never bother you again. Consider me history.”
Brandi watched him walk off, all along feeling the metaphorical knife in her back. She called to him, but he kept walking.
Tim wanted to turn back, but figured she’d only toss him aside again when the going got rough. Hearing her cry made him want to take her into his arms and promise her that things would be better for them. He heard Brandi screaming at her parents as they held her back.
“I need to try and make up with him. He was right…he was so right, and I acted without thinking as usual.” She looked at him. “Tim, please come back. I’m sorry. I was wrong, and I realize that now. It takes seeing you walking away from me to make me realize everything. Tim, come back!”
“You weren’t wrong, Brandi. You’re better off without me.” He continued walking away from her crushing cries. Every step he took away from her killed him, but he knew that he could never truly make her happy with all of his inadequacies. Their love had only been a taste of temptation. She was temptation, and he had been weak for her.
The next morning, Mrs. Miles helped Brandi pack the rest of her clothes and put them into the car. Before closing the hatchback, she pulled her depressed daughter aside. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love him, yet I ruined everything.”
“You don’t have to leave, honey. Stay here and we can talk through it.”
“What can I possibly say? I messed up, and Tim is gone. I haven’t been able to reach him on his house or cell. His truck is never there. He has moved on, apparently.”
“Maybe not. You can keep trying while talking it out with me. Honey, you shouldn’t handle this alone.”
“Aunt Theresa will be there with me. Besides, this is best. I’ve caused enough trouble around here. I can see the disappointment in Dad’s eyes.”
“Baby, that’s not true. He’s concerned about you.”
“It’s bad enough what I did to Tim, but Dad hitting and kicking him…I just can’t be here knowing he did that. I can still see him doing that, and it hurts.”
She saw her mother’s tears matching her own and took her hand. “This will be better. With time away, maybe Dad and I can be civil to one another.” She pulled her last suitcase into the car and closed the door. “Aunt Theresa and I can talk, but not right away. I don’t even know how to talk about Tim anymore.”
“If you need me, will you call me?”
“You know I will. I love you.”
They waved good-bye as Brandi’s car drove out of sight.
CHAPTER 22
Tim sat at his computer, staring at the screen as it displayed Brandi’s and Dana’s papers. In one hand was his cell phone, in the other, another bottle of scotch. His intent was to drink the day and night away, but only after he called Monica to get her over to look at the mess she had made of their experience at Niagara University.
He punched in her number and waited for a response. The minute he heard her mellow voice, the madder he became. He hid it though, because he was on a mission. “Monica…Tim.”
“Hey, Tim. Weren’t you supposed to meet me at the house last night? What happened?”
“I had things to do at the house, but I did borrow a disc; hope that’s okay?”
“Sure. Is everything all right? You sound a little out of it.”
He looked at the bottle in his hand. “I’m fine, but I have a computer problem, and was wondering if you could come over and take a look at it. I can’t get into Windows XP, and you’re a whiz at these things.”
“Sure. You wanted to talk, anyway. Are you sure you’re okay, because I can bring something for lunch and we can talk.”
“I’ve got Chinese left over from the other night; we can have that. I really need you to look at this computer.”
“Give me twenty minutes.”
Tim left the door unlocked and waited for her. Twenty minutes later, Monica walked in, calling to him. They met at his computer room. She looked at the half-empty bottle of liquor dangling from his hand.
He held the bottle up. “Want some?”
“No…no, I don’t drink. You know that.” She eyed him. “You didn’t drink all that this early, did you?”
“Not yet.”
“Tim, what’s going on with you? You called me Friday wanting to talk and never showed. Does that bottle have anything to do with it?”
“No, this is actually helping.” He leaned against the wall. “Brandi and I aren’t together anymore.” He looked at her, hoping to see some sign of glee on her beautiful face. Nothing. She was just as calm as ever, an incredible actress. Her words were even more Oscar-worthy.
“I’m really sorry. When did this happen?”
“The other day.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“First things first.” He held open the door to the computer room. “I really need you to look at this.”
They entered the room; she took a seat and looked at the Windows XP display. “Okay, what’s wrong with it that you know of?”
He punched a key. “This!”
Brandi’s paper appeared on the screen. “Look familiar, Monica?”
“What…what are you talking about?”
“Christ! In case you can’t remember, which I doubt, this is the paper Brandi couldn’t present at the Niagara competition.”
“You had her paper on disc the entire time and didn’t give it to her?”
“No, but you had it.” He leaned over her, staring down at the most gorgeous dark hair he had ever seen; he couldn’t believe her exotic look belonged to a maniac. “Monica. I looked in your desk drawer as you told me to, and pulled out what I thought was a blank disc. It wasn’t marked, so I assumed it was usable. When I checked it on your computer, Brandi and Dana’s papers smacked me in the face, the same papers they couldn’t find, the same papers that they weren’t able to pull up on the computers there. What did you do to those computers there, Monica? Tampering with equipment that’s not yours could get you some real prison time.”
She stood, facing off with him. “What the hell are you talking about? I did nothing like that. I don’t know how those discs got into my desk. Maybe they got mixed with my other belongings.”
“No way, Monica; you’re so careful with your briefcase, you would never let anyone get near it.” He picked up the phone. “Now, either you tell me what you did, or you can tell the cops. Of the two, I’m the less intimidating; it’s your choice.”
She tried to move past him, but he shoved her back into the chair. “Don’t even try it, Monica. I may have had a few too many,” he held up the bottle, “but I can still overpower you. I know you took the discs, Monica. You even acted suspicious—nervous all the time, needing to know where I was every second of the day. I thought you were nervous about the presentations. I never thought…”
“Okay! You want to hear the damn reason, Tim? I didn’t want her to win, plain and simple. I wanted to add a little turmoil to her life.”
“Why? Why do you have it out for her?”
“The way you rant and rave over her—I was sick of it! All you talk about is Brandi. Brandi this, Brandi that.” She stood inches from him. “Are you that dense that you couldn’t tell that someone else may have wanted a shot at you?”
“You really are nuts.”
“You’re the one that’s nuts. How could you even look at someone like her? She’s black, Tim! What would someone with your looks and intelligence want with her?”
“This is so 17th-century Anglo-Saxon. I can’t believe it! Look at you; you’re not exactly ‘Miss White America.’ You were born in Hong Kong, for Pete’s sake. Where the hell do you get off…”