Page 50 of A Hidden Past

“You don’t even know,” I say, a little angrily. I take a breath to calm myself, and when she puts her hand on the back of my neck and starts massaging me, I don’t stop her. “She told me when I was fourteen that she wished I was the one who died.”

That stuns Vivian again. She gasps and says, “Oh my God. Oh, Nate. I’m so sorry.”

I shrug. "What can you do? Parents have favorites, and then they have the kids they wish were dead."

I wait for Vivian to tell me that my parents didn’t grieve properly and that if my mother got sober, she’d stop thinking the way she does. I’ve heard that from people before. It’s just another excuse, and I’ll dismantle it when she says it.

She doesn’t say it, and after a moment, I say. “That’s why I want justice for Lila.”

“To get back at your parents by punishing hers?”

“No.” I stop a moment.

Up until now, I thought that was exactly what I wanted. Now that I think about it, though, my motives are different.

“I want justice for Annie. I want justice for the damage her death did to our family. I want the rich asshole who hit her to be punished for destroying four people, then just driving off like it didn’t matter. But I’ll never get it. So I guess I feel like if I can get justice for Lila, I’ll get justice for her too. I don’t know. It’s probably just what I tell myself so I can get through the day.”

“Well, the main thing is that you’re getting through the day. It’s not easy, but you’re doing it. You’re making something out of your life, and you’re not falling into something that could get you hurt or killed. You’re surviving. That makes you strong.”

The rush of guilt that hits me when she says that drives away all the resentment I feel about being treated like a child. I hang my head and say, “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not. I shot heroin the night before Lila died.”

Vivian’s hand stops moving again. When she moves it again, it’s only to take it away completely. My heart sinks to my feet, and I say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload all of this on you. I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I’ll stay away from the Kensington from now on. I did my best, but I’m only making things worse. I’ll stay away from… I mean, you don’t have to…”

She cups my face in hers and turns me so our eyes meet. “Hush. Come to bed.”

She doesn’t say it like she wants me. She says it like she knows I feel bad, and she’s trying to comfort me. It just makes me feel more like a kid being comforted by his mother. I know that’s stupid because she’s about to do something very unmotherly to me, but it still feels like she’s just soothing a crying child.

I want to say no. I want to leave. I want to show myself that I can handle this on my own, and I don’t need what she’s offering.

But I don’t. Instead, I follow her to her bedroom, and when she turns to me and drops her nightgown, I take what she has to offer desperately and without hesitation.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

I don’t have any nightmares last night. I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Part of me feels like I just replaced one drug for another drug. On the surface, it seems like Vivian is a far better drug than heroin, but I’m not so sure anymore.

I’m not so sure any drug is good. All I’m doing is avoiding facing my grief. Whether it’s sex with Vivian, a needle in my arm, or an anger-fueled rant at Julian Kensington, I’m just hiding from the real struggle.

I think I’ll go to Venice today. Today’s my day off, so I only have the four clients I missed from the other day when I went to the cops about Clara’s drug use. I’ll finish those, then I’ll return the van early and take the bus down to Venice. It’s going to be crowded as hell, but that’s all right. I wouldn’t mind getting lost in a crowd today. It’s better than going home where Mom will just have me running to the Circle K for groceries and then to Leo’s for alcohol. It’s a hell of a lot better than staying in Autumn Downs where I’ll either end up lurking around the Kensingtons’ place until I get mad enough to confront them or heading to Vivian’s to use sex to drown my emotions.

I finish just after eleven, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I leave the neighborhood. The security guard is different today, and he doesn’t even look up from his cell phone when I leave. I like him.

I drop the van off, and head to the bus station. It’ll take me about an hour to get to Venice. I figure probably another hour of waiting for food before I can head to the ocean and unwind. The heatwave has calmed considerably, but it’s still ninety-six degrees here, and it’ll probably be close to ninety at the beach, figure maybe eighty with the breeze. The point is it will still be busy as hell.

“Nate! Hey!”

I hear the voice, and at first I think I’m just hearing things. No way he’s actually here right now. I swear, the most irritating parts of my life are clinging to me like gum to the bottom of a sneaker.

“Nate! I know you can hear me asshole!”

Nope. That’s really him.

I sigh, then force a smile as I look up. That smile fades immediately when I see the dark frown on Marco’s face. He’s sitting in his truck at the bus stop glaring at me. The other waiting passengers are ignoring him with the almost instinctive blindness of long-term Metro riders.

I remember the hard look he wore the first day I ran into him in Autumn Downs. I remember how much it reminded me of Arturo’s expression, the one that made me certain that he had earned his teardrop tattoos.

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