Page 36 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

“Okay,” I sigh, “Isabelle had bullied me all through high school. I couldn’t date because she turned the whole school against me. I couldn’t have friends for the same reason. She played cruel pranks, like the time she went as far to have our squad drop me on the gym floor during a pep assembly. I broke my wrist, but my pride took the hardest fall. So, I finally quit cheer. But she just kept harassing me. Being gone a year in college was heaven. I was excited to come home, but I was also nervous. Turns out, I had good reason to be. Despite being out of school for a year and it having been six years since our brothers died—she still has it out for me.”

“Denise,” Alice slowly shakes her head, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how bad it was.”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have… Well, at the fair, she wouldn’t stop. She just wouldn’t stop with the slurs and nasty remarks. And I’ll admit, I might’ve had a little bit to drink,” and I was itching for my next supply of pills. “At first, I walked away—” I stop myself. I was about to admit but she followed me. What happened after she followed me? I’m not ready to confess any more. Even though it’s weighing so heavy on me. Why would I turn so violent? Why would I leave her there? Sure help arrived, but I should’ve stayed by her side and called the ambulance myself. My chest begins to hurt and tears turn my vision blurring.

“If she was only saying horrible things about me, I could handle it. But she knows my weaknesses. She goes straight for the kill, talking about us, our family,” I sob.

“We should’ve seen how badly this was affecting you. I’m so sorry.” If only you knew all of it, Alice.

I wipe my eyes. “It’s in the past, and I’m moving forward.”

Rachel raises her coffee cup and announces, “To moving forward.”

We all clink mugs and make plans for tomorrow night. I feel like a weight has been lifted. The pressure in my chest and shoulders has left. I can breathe. It’s been a long time since I’ve had an anxiety attack that bad.

As I’m driving back home, an old beat-up truck flashes its front lights. It’s him. I sigh and pull over. Keaton pulls his vehicle right behind mine. I roll my window down. He puts his forearms on top of my car and leans his head through the window. I can’t help but notice how strong his arms look supporting his weight.

“Do you know why I pulled you over, ma’am?”

I scoff. “Because you’re bored?”

“You left without saying goodbye.” I give him a confused look, so he continues, “I went to the main house this morning to see you, but you’d already left.”

I roll my eyes. “Are you upset that I didn’t clear it with you that I was leaving the house? I don’t recall being on house arrest as part of the deal. Gonna get me a cute little black bracelet with a box next?”

“Do I need to?”

“I said goodbye last night. You were expecting me to check in with you today? Ask your permission. I don’t ask for permission, Sloan.”

“Wow. You turn everything into an argument. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that I was at the guest house, so I figured you might come by and talk about last night. That’s okay though. We can discuss it over lunch.”

“Or not.” I begin to roll my window up and face the road.

Keaton sighs and asks, “Lunch or police station?” I start to open my mouth, but he holds a hand up. “You know what? Fuck it. Wyatt left Charlee. She got jealous seeing me with you and called begging me back, but I shot her down. I got my revenge, so everything is square. Hopefully, you’ll be more cautious about who you choose to hang around.”

I narrow my eyes. Is he referring to Wyatt or is he still hung up on who I’m getting my pills from? Before I can ask he pats the top of my car and says, “But you know what? It’s not my problem. Have a nice day.” He tips his head, walks away, and then gets in his truck and leaves.

I sit there wondering why I feel disappointed. I’m off the hook. I should be happy, but strangely, I’m not. I’m confused. I chalk it up to being hurt over Wyatt’s betrayal. I know that’s lame. Let’s be honest, my pride is more wounded that he tried to play me. A deeper part of me worries that maybe everything Isabelle had said about any guy that would like me was true. I know the real reason I’m disappointed is because a part of me still feels slightly guilty I never paid for a crime I committed. I should go to the police station. Confess that I was the one who keyed her car and beat her up.

I can only imagine the maelstrom Isabelle would unleash. The payback wouldn’t end with me. She’d want to get my parents in trouble somehow, if for no other reason but to humiliate them. She’d take it too far. I’m protecting them now from her family. If we hadn’t gotten in that fight, her drug issue wouldn’t have been uncovered. In a way, I’m helping her. Suddenly, I feel pretty good about myself. I latch on to that feeling because I know it’s fleeting. My faulty reasoning will only hold on for so long before the truth will start eating away at me. Then the vicious cycle will start back over. Fear, anger, guilt, depression, and utter loneliness will swirl around until I find something, some far stretch of an excuse to deny my problems a little longer. I’ll grab that little lie and hold on to it, convincing myself that I’m not hurting anyone. That I’m doing the right thing. I’ll feel a sliver of peace, and relish in the hope that the cycle is over, that I’m going to do better starting now. When you’re desperate and so deep in your own personal hell, those moments are both a blessing and curse. A blessing because you have a moment when you think you’re going to be okay. A curse because it’s the worst kind of lie since it gives you false hope.

Keaton’s words about being cautious about who I spend my time with play back in my head. I suppose a guy who would blackmail me is the type of person I should have lunch with? He has some serious nerve. Besides, it’s not like I hang out with the actual drug dealers. But your ‘friends’ are the ones who introduced you to them. A little voice nags at me that Keaton is right about my friends. They’re not even that good of friends. Before I can think too much more on it, I text a couple of my friends to see if they’re available for lunch. So what if I’m not really close to any of them, they’re good for casual get-togethers like this. I also text Rachel and Alice to let them know I saw Keaton and he let me off the hook. I have a couple of texts and missed calls from Wyatt, but I let those go unanswered. I pull my car back on to the street and drive to a diner to join my friend, Samantha, for lunch.

During lunch, Wyatt texts and calls nonstop to the point where he’s extremely annoying. I can feel myself getting more anxious.

Samantha smirks at me. “Why don’t you just take something?” I bite my nail, and she scowls. “Eww. Stop. You’re going to ruin your nails.”

I look around the diner to make sure nobody is paying us any attention. “Have you heard where one of Seven’s might be?”

She nods enthusiastically. “A hint was dropped on social today. A number will be around the Pierce Apartments.”

I flinch. That’s a sketchy neighborhood for them to be. I wonder why? Oh well, I need something. I’m way too wound up. Samantha checks her phone and then groans. “Gotta go, Babe. Mom and I have a spa day. Wanna join us?”

“You go ahead. Thank you, though.”

She gives me a knowing smile as she stands. “I see. Be careful, ‘kay?” I nod and lift my nail back to my mouth but she smacks my hand. “Stop it!” I hear her giggle as she sashays out of the restaurant.

My phone dings with an incoming message.

---