Growing up, my father never brought them around but didn’t tell me why. I understand it now. If he were still alive, I would tell him what a fucking mess that I’ve made of everything.
“Can’t do it, not anymore. I’m done helping you waste what few years you have left of your life.”
There’s a long pause, a moment of silence before I hear him growl on the other end of the line. “Your daddy poisoned you. You’re a piece of shit ingrate just like him,” he spits.
“Yeah, well he was the best man I’ve ever known, so thanks for the fucking compliment,” I snap before ending the call.
Without a second thought, I scroll through my contacts and block my own grandfather’s number. That kind of shit isn’t going to help me get myself together. If he wants to be a miserable old man, then that’s on him. But to talk shit about my father, a man who left this earth when I was just ten years old, that’s not fucking acceptable.
Deciding that I need to forewarn my mother, just in case my grandparents try anything hasty, I call her in the middle of the night.
“Hello,” a deep voice barks.
“Is my mother there?” I grind out.
There’s a moment of silence, then some rustling fabric before I hear my mother’s sleepy voice answer.
“He still suckin’ you dry, Mama?” I ask.
I hear her frustrated exhale before she speaks. “You know that he lives here, Louis. Why are you callin’ me so late?”
Grunting, I sit up in bed and tell her about the phone call. “So just warning you. I blocked his number and he’s not getting anything else from me,” I state.
“Good. Shouldn’t have ever given them a dime, son. Your father had to do the same many years ago. It’s hard, but watching people you love hurt themselves and knowing that you helped them do it is even harder.”
Pressing my lips together, I think about my own short dip into self-destruction. If anyone had seen me, had given me more booze or something worse, I would have taken it without hesitation. I was lost in a sea of depression and self-loathing.
Hell, I still am. I am struggling every minute of every day to stand up straight and not fall flat on my fucking face.
“You need anything?” I ask, knowing without a doubt that she will tell me no even when she does.
“No, I’m good, Louis. I want you to take care of yourself, you hear me?”
Clearing my throat, I tell her okay and end the call. Then, before I try to fall asleep, I transfer ten thousand dollars into an account that she and I share. One that her husband knows nothing about. He’s a piece of shit, a user, and lazy as fuck. I hope that one day my mom becomes strong and leaves his ass, but I’m not holding my breath.
Lying back on my pillows, I close my eyes and try to sleep, but sleep doesn’t come. Instead, my mind is full of images of Antoni Byers. Of his lifeless body and the way his boy stared blankly at his coffin.
I wake up sweaty after only an hour of attempted sleep. Instead of trying to close my eyes again, I get dressed in gym clothes and head toward my indoor gym. I spend the next four hours working out. Running, jump-roping, lifting weights, anything and everything to keep my body moving, exhausting myself completely mind, body, and soul.
Chapter Three
TULIP
The hours tick by at the grocery store. I smile at each customer that comes through my line and make small talk with them, but in the back of my mind, all I can think about is Louis. He’s back and the way he looked at me in the hallway, the way he tucked my hair behind my ear.
God, I want him to touch me some more. I want his strong hands all over my bare body. Once wasn’t enough. Seeing him last night only made me thirsty all over again. I feel desperate for him, for any piece of him and I don’t understand why.
Yes, he made me feel better than Joey ever has. Yes, his lips are perfectly kissable. Yes, he’s tall, strong, handsome and probably the nicest man I have ever known. Yes, he’s rich and famous. Yes, he’s completely out of my league.
I want to taste him again, just once. I want to commit every single moment with him to memory, in hopes that I won’t ever be able to forget sharing my bed and my body with a force like Louis Kingston.
“Tulip?” a voice calls.
My entire body jerks and I come face to face with Joey’s mother. “Hello, Mrs. Perry,” I offer with a small smile.
It’s not her fault that her son is an asshole, though maybe it is. She babied him and still does. I’m surprised that he hasn’t moved back in with her since I kicked him out. It seems like something he would do and she would probably be more than happy to have him. Then again, maybe his dad won’t let him come back, they always had a tense relationship.
“Joey tells me that y’all are going through a bit of a rough patch,” she says as she begins to empty the contents of her buggy on the conveyor belt.
I clear my throat, not wanting to talk about this, with her or anyone else. I want to just pretend that Joey never existed, just live in a time where I didn’t lower myself and allow myself to be used and abused by him. That’s not possible though, not here in Gallup or anywhere in the Texas Hill Country, really.
I’ll forever be Joey Perry’s girl—his stupid naïve girl. And I will forever owe Mr. and Mrs. Perry a debt that I won’t ever be able to repay.
“I just think we’ve run our course, Mrs. Perry,” I say as I begin to scan her items.
She hums, and I know that hum. She doesn’t believe me and why would she? Joey and I have split up and gotten back together so many times that I’ve lost count. I don’t blame her one bit.
“Well you’re always welcome at my dinner table, Tulip.” She smiles.
I dip my chin in a nod and continue to scan her food as quickly as my register will allow me to. Mrs. Perry doesn’t stay silent for long though, instead she decides to tell me all about Joey’s father and everything that he’s been up to lately, as if I care deeply. Mrs. Perry cares about Mr. Perry though, almost disturbingly, that man is her entire life.
“You know, I’m surprised you haven’t taken Joey by the ear and dragged him down that aisle yet. He needs to settle and you need a baby. I hate to tell you, honey, but you’re inching up there in age and you don’t want to wait too long now,” she sings.
I suppose at twenty-five that I am climbing closer toward the end of my fertile years, but I’m not dead yet and she’s acting like I’m seconds away from expiring completely. I don’t respond to her with words. The last thing I want to do is inform her that her son is an asshole, so instead, I just give her a big ass fake smile.
“You saved twenty-one-fifty-six today, Mrs. Perry. I hope you have a wonderful evening,” I cheerily announce.
She narrows her eyes before she snatches the receipt from me and jerks her chin toward the bagger to follow her out to her car.
I let out a puff of air and close my eyes for a moment. When I reopen them, I see my new manager, Mark, standing at the end of my station with a grin on his face. He’s only been here a few months and he seriously gives me the full on creeps.
“Go on and clock out. I think you deserve to get off a few minutes early after dealing with that nonsense.” He chuckles, his eyes flicking down to my breasts before he brings them back up to meet my eyes as if I can’t see him.