Lead by Kylie Scott
"Shit," I muttered.
"Lena?" Dean grabbed at my arm. "What's wrong?"
"I have to go. I'm sorry, I've got to go." I shook him off, not even looking back.
He called out something, but I didn't slow down. Bye-bye biker bar. Heels couldn't get me home fast enough, so they had to go too. I hopped along, tearing off first one then the other, dumping them both. The bitter cold of the concrete stung the soles of my feet, dirt and grit sticking to my skin. All that mattered was getting home.
Jimmy.
Please let him be okay. He wouldn't take this well, no one would, your own damn mother selling you out. The woman was pure evil. My heart pounded and sweat beaded on my forehead. People got out of my way, a good thing.
"Where's the damn keys?" I raged, searching through my bag, completely forgetting the Merc would open just because they were near. Thank fuck for technology.
I flung myself into the car, slamming the door shut behind me. Engine on and I was away, rushing through the nighttime traffic. Someone got in my way and I let loose with the horn. The guy flipped me the bird, as if I cared. Though if a cop saw me driving this way I was done for.
It seemed to take forever to get home and when I did, every light in the house was blazing like some ominous beacon standing in the mist. A horror movie couldn't have done it better. I pulled into the driveway, tires screeching. One of the butler dudes looked up from where he was packing stuff into the back of a white van, his face startled.
Into the house I ran. "Jimmy!"
Ev's face appeared at the top of the stairs. "Up here, Lena."
I might have busted a lung or two somewhere along the way because all I could do was pant. I'd gotten there, however, and that's all that mattered.
Everyone was loitering outside of Jimmy's bedroom door, including Liv. Had she been invited before or after I decided not to attend? It didn't matter.
Tension and pain lined David's face. "Lena, hey. He's refusing to talk to anyone, locked himself in. She did a real hatchet job on him, went after him with the worst."
"I can imagine." Given she'd focused her attack on him in Idaho, it made sense. "Can you give us a minute?"
Lots of worried looks. Mal and Ben both deferred to David, waiting on him to speak.
"Please," I said.
At long last, David nodded and slowly, the group headed down stairs, Anne nudging Liv along. No matter how many times Liv looked back, I wasn't meeting her eyes. One apocalypse at a time and all that. I waited for the last of them to go, the marble freezing my feet. Then I knocked on the door. "Jimmy?"
No answer.
"Jimmy, it's just me. Open the door please." I knocked again, then tried the handle. It was locked of course. "Jimmy."
Nothing.
I placed my palms flat against the smooth wood in entreaty. "I know you're upset and you want to be alone, but I'm not going away until we've talked. You need to let me in, I have to see that you're okay. Please open the door."
Silence filled the hall.
"Jimmy?"
Nada.
"One way or another I am coming in there." I rested my forehead against the door, frustration gnawing at my insides. There were no booms or crashes at least, just a scary sort of silence. The thought of where his head might be at terrified me. I hated feeling helpless. His hissy fit the other night when I'd locked him out now made perfect sense. Man, we were screwed up. Just his assistant my ass.
"James Dylan Ferris, open the god damn door." I smacked my palm against the door, waiting and hoping, though I didn't really expect him to answer. The stubborn jerk. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."
If he could do it, so could I.
"You're not keeping me out."
And really, how hard could breaking down a door be? People did it all the time in the movies. I'd been jogging lately and was in better shape than I had been, despite the sweat currently coating my back. Sometimes, a girl just had to do what a girl had to do. And I had to get to Jimmy. He hadn't opened the door to his family so getting them to help didn't seem right. First, I'd try on my own. For all I knew, he could be crying again and if I let David and co see him in that condition it wouldn't be good. The man had his pride.
I took a few steps back, squared my arm, and rammed the bastard. Gave it all I had.
Bam!
And holy shit, ouch.
The door rattled and my arm stung from shoulder to elbow. My funny bone went beserk, making me wince. Alright, so it was harder than it looked. Time to try something else.
I raised my leg and braced myself, taking a deep breath. There was no room for fear. Yes, I could and I would do this because I was woman, so hear me roar.
Instead, I howled.
My foot struck the door and pain reverberated up my leg, wave after endless wave of it.
"Motherfucker!" My ass hit the floor (which also hurt) and tears filled my eyes. "Ow."
The door opened. "Lena?"
"Hey." Care of watery eyes, the vision of Jimmy swam before me. "Hi."
"What the fuck did you do?"
"I was trying to kick your door down. It didn't work." My voice was not high, pathetic, and plaintive. I did not whimper. Instead, I held my sore ankle tight with both hands, swearing up a storm on the inside. "I think I might have sprained it."
Many footsteps pounded up the stairs.
"She all right?" That sounded like Ben.
"Get some ice," Jimmy directed, kneeling beside me. "Lena, what the hell did you think you were doing? You're not strong enough to kick in doors, for fuck's sake."
"Well, I didn't know," I hiccupped, blinking madly, trying to stem the embarrassing stream of tears running down my face, rivers of the bastards. Luckily, Jimmy stayed between me and everyone else. Sometimes hiding really was the best response if you hoped to have any dignity left come morning.
"Let me see." He lifted my hands away, gingerly feeling up my ankle. "Wiggle your toes."
I did so.
"Probably not broken then."
"No."
With gentle fingers, he brushed off my sole. "Why are your feet all dirty?"
"News about the interview came up on a TV in the bar. Have you ever tried to run in heels?"
"Okay, calm down." Without warning, he slipped an arm beneath my knees. The other went behind my back and then up I went. Whoa, the man was strong. I heard no knees creaking or any complaints of lower back pain. All of the weight lifting he did must be paying off. He carried me in and placed me on his bed while I blinked the tears from my eyes. My ankle had apparently been replaced with a hot throbbing mess.
I'd never been in Jimmy's room before. He had a big-ass bed covered in super-soft black sheets--Egyptian cotton would be my guess. The walls were painted a soft grey and some dark wood furniture was carefully arranged. No wonder he'd been aghast at the lived in appearance of my room. Apart from the smashed lamp on the floor in the corner, the place was immaculate. He saw me look at the broken light and said nothing. The shadows in his eyes were a horrible thing to see.
Damn the woman to hell for hurting him this way. Hadn't she done enough damage when they were little?
"I always figured you'd have mirrors on the ceiling," I said, tipping my head back, trying to take his mind off the drama.
"I'll get right on that." He sat on the ginormous mattress beside me, placing my foot in his lap. "What the fuck was going through your head out there, huh?"
"Reciprocity. You destroy hotel rooms and kick stuff in, now I beat down doors. We have something in common, you know? It was going to be a beautiful moment, really bonding."
"Lena," he growled.
"I had to get to you." It was the simple unadorned truth. Didn't mean I needed to be looking at him when I said it, however. Ever so slowly, I flexed my ankle, turning it this way and that. It ached, but it wasn't the pass-out-and-die kind of pain any longer. Now it seemed closer to some mild form of torture. "Crap, ouch."
"Dave, call a doctor," he yelled to the
"On it," he said.
Oh, great. Everyone was present to see me in my moment of triumph. I slipped a finger either side beneath my glasses to wipe away any last remnants of tears. Two nights running I'd been reduced to this state. When had my life gotten so crazy? I shrugged out of my coat, got comfortable for the duration.
"Here." Ben rushed in, handing Jimmy a bundle of ice in a tea towel.
He held it against my heroic war wound, the chill giving me goose flesh. Though frankly, now that I could see clearly, Jimmy didn't appear to be all that impressed by my bravery and determination. Dark hair fell around his face as he frowned at my foot. There were a good five or six wrinkles on his forehead, a critical mass of creases. The man was seriously unhappy.
By now, everyone else had wandered on in, drawn by the drama. Liv didn't seemed particularly enthralled by the goings on either. Though enthralled didn't quite fit and neither did confused. A mix of baffled and dismayed might best describe her expression.
"You need anything else?" asked Ben, hovering a few feet back.
"No," said Jimmy, staring at the French polish on my toes compliments of the beautician he'd paid for. "We'll just wait for the Doc."
David slid an arm around Ev's neck. "Alright, we'll hang downstairs until he arrives. Yell if you need anything."
Jimmy nodded, still holding the ice pack to my ankle. His other hand firmly braced the underside of my foot. As if I'd try to get away if he wanted to touch me, I was too far gone for such wisdom.
People shuffled on out.
"Jimmy?" Liv's voice had a slight tremor to it.
"Talk to you later, Liv."
Her hands moved restlessly at her sides. "I probably better get back to LA. I've got fittings starting in a few days."
"Right."
"Okay." Liv pasted on a pretty smile. Full marks to her, the woman was one hell of an actress after all. "Bye."
"Yeah." He didn't even look at her, the jerk. It was highly tempting to kick him with my good foot, make him be polite at the very least. But that would not only solve nothing, it would also be extremely hypocritical of me. Despite knowing Jimmy should date, seeing him with another woman hurt well beyond the current throbbing in my foot. It was just that the pain in her eyes was one I knew all too well, I couldn't help but relate.
Me and that pain, we were best buds on oh-so-many levels. Jimmy Ferris was hell on a girl's heart (and occasionally on the ankles too).
Liv left.
For a few minutes we sat in silence, my slowly freezing foot resting atop his thigh.
"Jimmy?"
"Hmm?"
"Will you tell me what happened?"
His fingers tensed around my heel. "We were sitting at dinner and suddenly everyone's phones started going nuts. Apparently she only got fifteen grand for it, she should've held out for more. Adrian's got lawyers on it, but ... I told him to let it go."
"Why?" I gasped.
"The stuff she told them, it's all true. Not like she signed a waiver when she gave birth, you know. Guess she's entitled to her slice of the cake."
"Like hell. She's entitled to exactly nothing."
A smile ghosted across his lips. I could only just see it through his mess of hair. When I'd left, it had been neatly slicked back. Now, his fingers had obviously staged some sort of revolt. The need to reach out and slide those strands back behind his ear so I could see him was huge.
"Did you see it?" he asked. "What she said?"
"Just the bit where she was saying she was homeless while you two live in mansions."
"Well you missed the best part." His chin almost touched his chest. "I did use to yell all sorts of shit at her, throw stuff. Only ever hit her once, though."
My throat tightened to the point of pain. "Why did you hit her, Jimmy?"
"I came home and she was cleaning the place out, ready to finally leave," he said. "I was fourteen. Dave was busy over at Mal's house, thank god. One of her stoner friends had a car loaded up in the yard with everything we had of value. Not that there was much, the TV, microwave, shit like that. She came walking out of the house carrying Dave's acoustic guitar. He worked his ass off mowing lawns all summer to pay for that thing. It was just a cheap one from the hockshop, nothing really. But he'd wanted one for so long, thought it was the shit."
"I bet he did."
"I told her to put it back, told her that it would break Dave's heart, but she didn't care. Said he was spoiled, that he could do with some toughening up. Like either of us were spoiled living in that house with her, holes in our clothes, miracle if we got fed." One side of his mouth drew up, but it wasn't in a smile. "She backhanded me, told me to get out of the way. She was wearing a ring." He pointed to a tiny star of a scar above his top lip, half hidden in stubble. "See?"
"I see."
"I slapped her, snatched the guitar right out of her hands. I wasn't that big yet, didn't get my growth spurt until I was fifteen, but I was big enough." He looked down at his palm. "Her cheek went bright red. It looked horrible, but she didn't do anything. Just kept looking at the guitar, stunned that I had it now and she didn't. Then her friend came, dragged her into the car and they were gone. Just like that, mom was a memory. Well, she came back eventually ... unfortunately."
He looked up at me, face pale. "Everything she said, it's all true. No one needs to make shit up about me."
"Did you ever tell David about this?"
"No, just would have upset him. He still thought she'd sober up one day, get her shit together and be a real mom. He was a dreamer even back then."
"After everything she'd done?"
He didn't respond.
"You protected him for years, didn't you?"
"Someone had to. I'd tell him to go hide, soon as she started, didn't want him to see. He had to have heard though, because sometimes she'd scream at the top of her lungs. Mom was a mean drunk. Usually on dope she'd just drift off, leave us alone, but get a bottle of bourbon into her and the whole fucking neighborhood knew about it." He grabbed the back of his neck, face pained. "She'd slap me around. Couldn't have her doing that to Dave. He was always the sensitive one. No big deal. Besides, she could be pretty fucking funny stumbling around."
"Why didn't you father do anything about it?"
"She'd be better when he was home, mostly. But he just pretended it wasn't happening. Not like the signs weren't all there, our garbage can would be overflowing with bottles, no food in the fridge 'cause she'd spent all the money on booze and shit." He turned to me. "He loved her, Lena. Loved her so much that he chose her over us. That's what love does to you, it fucks you up."
"Not always. Look at David and Ev."
He inhaled. "They're happy for now. But one day, one of them will be like Mal's dad, like my dad's been since she left."
"So it's preferable to live your life alone and unhappy?"
"Better than winding up broken. Better than breaking someone."
I didn't know what to say.
"First pills I ever took were stolen from mom's stash. It was my great big fuck you to her." His laughter was bitter. "If she was going to tell me how like her I was all the time, then I figured I might as well live up to it. Look how well that turned out. I am just like her, Lena."
"No, you're not. You're clean now, you beat it."
"The shit I've done over the years." For a moment his eyes closed tight. Then he went back to studying my foot, reshuffling the cold wet ice pack. "All the things she said to me ... she was right. I'll never be clean, not really. Always be an addict at heart."
"Jimmy, that's just not true. You know it's not. You did the work, you got clean." I knew a little about people saying stuff, wounding you with words. The scars lingered a long, long time.
His lips were thin and white.
"Have you ever told anyone?"
A sharp short shake of his head. "No."
"You can trust me, you know? I'm not going to turn on you or think less of yo
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
I cocked my head. "Did you just call me a liar?"
He pushed back his hair (finally), eyes wary. The man was in no rush to speak because he kept me waiting a long time.
"Well?" I prompted.
"This is one of those traps women use. No matter what I say you're gonna chew my ass out over it."
"I'm just asking for a little faith from you." I stared back at him every bit as carefully as he was at me. "Whatever that woman said to you is utter and complete bullshit, Jimmy. You know that. So why are you still letting it live inside of you?"
He gently rubbed the palm of his hand against the flat of my foot. "Break something badly enough, there's no point trying to fix it."
"That's what you tell yourself?"
"That's the truth."
"Hey, no. It isn't." I reached out, grabbing hold of his arm. Through the fine fabric of his shirt his muscles were strained, his skin hot. For over twenty years, he'd been carrying around all this pain and anger, self-hatred. The two people responsible for loving and caring for him when he was small and defenseless had failed him miserably. Little wonder he was so defensive, he'd been taught to expect attack, to trust no one.
"You are a good person, Jimmy. You're a good man."
"Lena." He stared at my hand.
"She doesn't know who you are today. I do. So who are you going to believe?"
His mouth opened and I waited some more.
Yes, he was talking to me but I needed more, I needed an in with him. The pain he carried around had to end. Few deserved freedom from their past as much as Jimmy did. He'd worked so hard, turned his entire life around.
His jaw shifted and maybe, just maybe this time ...
Someone rapped at the door, the same one I'd so utterly failed to break down. Of course they did, fuck the universe and all it entailed. Though honestly, what were the chances Jimmy would ever take that final step and trust me?
Unlikely.
No, I couldn't afford to think like that. I had to get through to him.
A neat middle-aged woman with short dark hair strode in, bag in hand. David followed behind her, gaze shifting between me and his brother with open curiosity. "This is Courtney. She's here to check out Lena's foot."
"That was fast." The doctor. Crap. My stupid ankle had ruined everything. I really needed to not try storming the castle by beating up innocent doors, in future. But if I hadn't, if I'd just been content to sit outside, locked out, Jimmy wouldn't have told me as much as he had. I'm certain some distance had been covered. Exactly what it meant, I wasn't quite sure.