Razorblade Kisses(103)

Before she got back on the highway, she stopped at a library and logged into Facebook as Romona Hicks. She typed out a message to Rachel.


From: Romona Hicks

To: Rachel Helms

R,

This is the last time I’ll check this page. I know you won’t understand this, me leaving after everything you and Derrick have done for me. I just can’t. I don’t know how to live my life, or Emma’s life, anymore. Please don’t read this saying I’m going to do something stupid. I’m going to live through this, if you call what I’ll be doing living. I thought what I had been through before was hard. I want to laugh at using that word to describe my life. Maybe tragic or disastrous is more appropriate. I just want to take the shambles of my life and hide away from anyone that I could hurt, especially you and Tim.

You saved my life too many times to count and you need to stop saving me, because I’m pretty sure it’s a full time job. You’ve been saving me for years and this is me saving you. You deserve to live your life without worrying about the friend who poisons everything she touches. It’s better this way. I’ll be someone else, someone who wallows in their brokenness, because I won’t have you to fix me, to lift me up, and make me feel like I can do this.

I don’t deserve to have a life when I helped end my sister’s. I love you, Rachel, and I’m letting you go. I’m okay. I’ll be fine. The last favor I’ll ask of you is to tell Tim that I love him and this is me loving him. I don’t want to infect his world any more than I already have. He’ll know that the person he fell in love with doesn’t exist, that I’m a liar and a fraud. He’ll move on and get through it.

I can already hear you cussing. You are the other pieces of me that made me whole. You’re the good pieces, Rachel, and all that’s left of me is a shipwreck.

Don’t look for me. I don’t want to be found. I don’t want to be saved. I’m not worthy of it.

E

Emery hit send and sat there, numb, trying to process the decisions she’d made in the last twenty-four hours. Her sister was gone. Lucas was gone. She walked out of the library and left Emery behind. She didn’t exist anymore. Emery was dead just like everyone else in her family.



She only stopped twice on her ten hour drive before she pulled into the Sheraton overlooking Smathers Beach in Key West. She’d come here with her mother and sister years ago and it was a fun trip because Phil wasn’t there. She paid cash for her room, which totally freaks people out these days, went to her room, and slept for days.





CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Biding my Time



For the past six months Emery had been Ericka Smith. She couldn’t be Emery or Emily or Emma, they all were people who had memories she couldn’t drink away. So now, in Key West, she was Ericka. Ericka was fun, worked her ass off, and didn’t give anyone any trouble, but she drank…A LOT. However, it seemed this was not uncommon in Key West, so she fit in with the other misfits who had given up their lives on the mainland and were hiding on the island.

Currently she was bartending at a bar in the middle of Duval Street, the greatest street in America. It was ten o’clock in the morning so not many people were out yet, but there was one man who looked like he’d never been to bed. She made herself a Bloody Mary and sat on one of the barstools looking out at the empty street. Inhaling deeply, she smelled the stale beer and disinfectant, just like every morning. Then she opened a piece of paper that had so many creases the words were illegible, but she didn’t really need to read it. The piece of paper had found its way to Ericka in Key West even though she told Rachel to forget about her. She knew every single word by heart. Ericka forced herself to read this paper every fucking day to make damn sure she didn’t pack her bags and run back to where Emma remained in a pool of misery.


Emery,

Please don’t be mad at me. I couldn’t take it if you were mad at me. I don’t know what to do because Phil made me do things that hurt and made me feel dirty. I can’t talk to Mom and you’re not here. I think I understand why you left now. I don’t blame you. I wish you would’ve taken me with you. I can’t let him touch me like that again. I won’t. I know that suicide is a sin, but so is what he did and I can’t live with it. It hurts to open my eyes.

I miss you so much.

Love,

Ashley

The sorrow that sat on her chest every day was so heavy, the word grief didn’t even come close to describing what she felt.

Worthless. Emery had killed Ashley by leaving. By saving herself she’d killed her innocent little sister.

Murderer. She deserved to be by herself so that her poison didn’t kill anyone else.