Page 30 of Absolution

“Yes asshole, he is my brother. That’s what happens when your mother is a fucking whore. You know, like the women who flock to your club and beg for attention on their knees with open mouths,” I recoil at him with tears welling up in my eyes.

“Ricca, I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers out, but I have nothing left to give him. I gave him what he wanted, and he’s spit the trust I put into him back into my face.

He tries to move closer to me, but I barricade myself with my outstretched arms.

I’m emotionally drained, and having his touch enveloping me won’t solve anything, it will only confuse my heart even more. Why was I so stupid to believe that he would understand? That he would just accept it at face value. The part of me that wanted him to leave is reveling in the face that I did this to myself. This is my own misery. I gave him what he wanted, and he’s spit the trust I put into him back into my face.

“No, don’t you dare try to play the pity card with me, Ratchet. You wanted the truth, and right there he is.”

Ratchet flops back into the seat, and watches along with me as my brother disappears into the town car with my sperm donor. I could have mentioned that to him, but he didn’t care enough to ask. He’s made up his mind, which also helped make up my own. We aren’t strong enough to be together, and probably never were. The realization hurts as the dreams of my future shatter into pieces.

Without a word, I turn on the truck, and barrel out of the school parking lot. When we reach Willie’s, I skid into the open spot near his bike and kick him out of the truck. He tries to protest, but his words fall on deaf ears. Before he can even latch the door closed, I speed off. The door slams shut as I take the corner hard.

I can’t deal with this anymore. The need to be away from him and everything else is almost overwhelming.

I try to drive around town to ease my anger, but nothing helps. The former addict who lives inside of me screams to find a hit to dull the pain. To give into temptation because in the end, it’s easier to forget the pain than to live with it.

No, I won’t give in. That isn’t my life anymore. It will never have a hold on me ever again.

I finally give up, and head back to mom’s trailer. I bust into the door, and head straight to the nearly bare refrigerator. The only thing my mom apparently kept in here was beer, and for once, I am thankful for her vices. As much as I want to drink myself into oblivion, one beer should be enough to take the edge off and help me clear my mind of Ratchet and the drugs.

I pop the top of the beer on the cheap counter top, and take a few swigs, before I manage to spill the fucking shit all over myself. Setting the bottle down, I rip off my beer-covered shirt and toss it to the ground. The clock over the stove catches my eye, and I swear out loud. My shift at Willie’s starts in a few hours, and I reek of beer. I’ve lost one job today, and there’s no way I am going into my last one smelling like a saloon. Willie would fire me in an instant, if he thought I was drunk on the job.

Deciding it’s easier to shower than it is to take the chance, I make my way back to the bathroom. The hot spray from my shower helps release the last wisps of anger that were not taken care of by the beer, but relaxation is as short lived as the hot water supply in this place. Wrapping the towel around me, I pad into the bedroom and slip on a pair of panties, when I hear the door of my trailer swing open.

Fuck, I’m being robbed, and I’m fucking naked. Just great. That’ll make the perfect headline for the local paper. “Daughter of town whore found naked and burglarized.” That’s exactly how I want to go out in this world.

I search for my switch knife, but it dawns on me that it’s out in the kitchen in my purse. The only way I am going to get to them is to go out there and face whoever is in my house. I reach down for the towel, wrapping it around me like paper armor. It won’t protect me, but at least my dignity can stay intact for the coroner to identify my body, if this goes south.

I quietly pull open the door, and peer out. My feet make tiny steps down the hall, and I pray that the floor doesn’t creak under my weight. The corner to the kitchen comes into view, but I stop dead in my tracks when I see who the intruder is.

Fucking Ratchet is in my god damn house.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” I scream at him. I eye a beer bottle on the counter and consider throwing it him to emphasize my point.

“Don’t you even think about it, Siren,” he booms. “You throw that bottle, and I will paint your ass red.”

“Get out. I don’t want you here. You got what you came for, and now you can leave,” I yell back as my hand grasps the bottle. My fingers curl around the smooth neck.

Ratchet’s hands come out in front of him in a submissive gesture, like he’s the china shop, and I am the bull wreaking havoc. In a way, he’s right.

“We both know that’s a lie. You would have never shown me that boy if you wanted me gone. You want me here, even if you think you don’t. I make you feel safe, and that’s exactly what you need right now.”

“I don’t need you for shit, asshole.”

His face is visibly frustrated at my lack of submission to him. Do I want him here? Yes and no. Being near him is like toeing the line between heaven and hell. Lean a little bit too far on either side, and it’s too late to save yourself.

“Jesus, Ricca. I am trying to apologize here, and you’re not even giving me a fucking chance.”

“Nice try,” I chide him. “You were pretty fucking clear that you wanted nothing to do with this. You accused me of lying to you, and now you want to apologize?”

Ratchet inches closer to me with his hands still in front of him.

“I was an asshole, but you didn’t exactly give me time to process the situation. This isn’t what I was expecting you to be hiding from me.”

“Well, it’s not what I expected either, but it’s the hand I’ve been dealt. Not that you would understand.”

Ratchet winces, and for a second, I see a pain in his eyes that I have never seen before.

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