I heard him walk to the far side of the shack, the creak of the metal wall as he leaned against it. He’d stay and watch me like he always did. I didn’t know if he did it to make certain I was okay or because he enjoyed watching me curl in a ball and cry until I had nothing left in me.
Tears for Connor. The brother I’d lost and missed with every breath. Tears for the other girls Robbie had hurt. Tears for Deck. Yeah, I cried for him because I knew behind the unyielding man was pain for what he’d seen in his life.
Emotions drove through me—Guilt. Pain. Rage.
Then finally acceptance.
That was why I needed the purging, to prove I was strong. To let go of the weakness I hated so much. To remember who I was now.
It was a long time before the raw emotions became controlled again and I was able to take a deep breath without the catch in my throat. I felt the release, like a balloon being set free in the wind—freedom. It was euphoric and completely fucked up, but it was my fucked up and what happened here worked for me. I could walk away strong and immune to the nightmare that destroyed who I’d been.
It was my way to tuck my past away in the far corners of my mind, not to be released again until I came here.
I sat up on my heels, hearing the soft tread of his approach before he was carefully applying bandages over the cuts. They weren’t deep, and most likely wouldn’t ever scar me. Robbie had made certain of that, too. Wounds that healed so my back could become a blank canvas again, but my memory would never heal.
I patiently waited for him to finish and then picked up my shirt and slid it over my head. I could smell the scotch. It must have splashed onto the material. I watched his long fingers do up the two buttons at the top and then his thumb came under my chin and raised my head so I’d look at him.
He always did that. Looked me in the eyes as if reading whatever was going on in my head. He never said anything, and I suspected it was to make certain I was okay.
He took my hand and helped me to my feet then we walked outside. The sun beamed down on my face so brightly I couldn’t see for a few seconds while my vision adjusted. Every step I took, the cuts on my back rubbed under the bandages. I learned to wear loose clothing when I came here. This time … I’d worn Deck’s shirt. It smelled like him despite the scotch that now splattered the material. Still, if I tilted my chin down, I could breathe Deck in and feel … solid again.
“Faster than usual.” I heard Tanner say as we approached the car.
He snorted and when I looked up at him through parted blue streaks of hair, I caught the fierce glare he sent Tanner. I had the impression he didn’t like him very much, but Tanner had been with us since the beginning. It was odd. If he didn’t like him, why was Tanner still part of this? “Get your head on the job, Chaos,” he said.
I opened the passenger door and slid in, careful to keep my back from touching the leather seat. Like always, my mind was a fog of emotions attempting to block out the memories and bring me back to the numbness of surviving.
“You have the cover story?”
I nodded.
“Better be convincing. Vic isn’t stupid.” He looked at Tanner then back at me. “You need to find a balance to what you’re doing.”
I knew what that meant. Cut the drinking back.
He placed the bottle in my hand and shut my door. Fuck. I hated the taste of scotch. I hated the smell and I hated everything about it. I unscrewed the lid and chugged it back, ignoring the scorching pain in my throat and drinking as much as I could.
“Whoa, Chaos. Take it easy. Didn’t you hear what he just said? You need to be drunk not comatose.” Tanner’s door shut and he started the car.
It was only a half-hour back to the city, and I needed to be pretty smashed by the time we arrived. It was the one day of the year that I really did get drunk. All the other times … yeah, it was a façade, a cover-up, but today wasn’t by choice. Getting drunk at Connor’s tombstone then cabbing it home was our cover. I would hide in my bedroom and no one would bother me for days.
Another year gone. Another year filled with lies.
This was who I needed to be.
The perfect chaos.
I HAD TO consciously relax my grip on my cell phone before it crushed under the pressure. Fuckin’ Georgie. I should’ve known she’d do something stupid like this. Shit, I had known. That was why I left Vic with her. Every year, she got drunk at Connor’s grave and every year, I fucked off not wanting to be around to see her destroyed. I had no way to stop her pain, and it cut through me so deeply I couldn’t breathe thinking about it.
I knew exactly what would happen if I saw her upset—I’d take from her what I’d always wanted and that could never happen.