beautifully broken:if i break 3(21)

“Are you saying I want her to want something more than casual because that’s what I want?” I laugh.

“Is that so ridiculous? You’re an adult now. You’re not the 19 year old I met so long ago,” she says and I roll my eyes.

“It’s okay for you to desire a higher form of intimacy than just sex. It’s not something that you have to rule out because you associate it with what Chris would possibly want.”

“This isn’t about him!” I say, feeling my jaw flex.

“Speaking of Chris—”

“You brought him up,” I remind her.

“Have you felt any episodes arising?”

“If I had, I’d tell you,” I mumble. I’m getting frustrated with this conversation.

“If you complete my cards, I wouldn’t have to ask you these things,” she says in a singsong voice that annoys me.

“Can I just get the tickets?” I ask tightly. She smiles and her hand disappears into her drawer and she pulls them out, handing them to me.

“Also, you pulled up a ton of information on Lauren. What about Clay?” I ask and she sighs.

“Not any more than last time. It’s a little different to find someone who doesn’t want to be on the radar,” she explains.

“My patience is running out, Helen,” I warn her, walking towards the door.

“You wouldn’t be yourself if it wasn’t, Cal,” she calls back before I leave.

It always feels like a ton of bricks have been lifted off me when I leave Helen. I joke around with her but there’s more to her than meets the eye. This was just a stop-in with her but usually she’s a griller.

My phone rings and it’s the person I’ve been waiting on. “Tell me you got something good,” I say, trying to cover my annoyance. I’ve been paying this investigator big bucks and, so far, the trail has been a bunch of dead ends. I know Helen and Dexter have been giving me the run around on Clay but there’s more than one way to skin a cat.

“We think we’ve spotted him in Venitan.”

“Venitan?” I say aloud, to make sure I heard what he said right. Of all the places I’ve tracked this guy, he ends up right back in the town he ran from? “Do you have someone tailing him?”

“Of course. That’s extra, considering what happened last time.”

“You guys got it wrong the other time. I hope you don’t disappoint me on this one. It won’t be good.”

I walk to my car thinking of the man who brought me into the world, probably off a beer in the back seat of some shitty car. Why does he get to walk around after everything he did, how is it that not one person has made him pay? I wonder if he thinks about the kids he left behind, if he’s destroyed anymore lives, if he knows that one of them is searching for him, that his time is running out and that the one he left behind will be the one to make him pay.





Lauren



It’s morning and I’m in bed alone, no longer wrapped in the warmth of Cal’s arms. I make my way out of bed and prepare myself for another day. What type of day this will be, I can only guess. Today we have to go and get Caylen. Cal will face off with the Scotts and what happens then or after that, I don’t know.

I look at the clock on the dresser near us and see it’s not even seven a.m. yet. I take a deep breath and head into the living room of the small apartment we’ve nested in for the past day or so. It’s cool and foreign, different from our house in Chicago and the Scotts’. It took a while to get used to the Scotts’ place but it eventually became warm and personable and, as much as I hated being alone in Chicago, it was mine and was once my and Cal’s home. Here, it feels off, like we don’t belong here. Neither of us.

When I reach the living room, I don’t see anyone. I look to the bathroom and see that it’s empty as well. Then I notice the front door is cracked open. I head back into the bedroom and put on warm clothes. Once I make it outside, I see Cal standing in front of the house, his hands clasped on his head.

“Cal, what’s wrong?” I ask him as I approach. When he turns around, his expression is broken, unshed tears glimmer, frustration and confusion evident on his face.

“Oh no,” I can’t help but squeak out.

“What happened? Where are we?” he asks painfully. My stomach drops and I feel my throat tighten. I try to think of what to say to him, how to answer his questions, how to assure him that everything is okay. I need to be strong but I feel weak. I’m confused myself and overwhelmed. I try to say something but as soon as my mouth opens, I feel as if I’m going to vomit.

“Are you okay?” he says, concern replacing his puzzled expression.