Page 8 of Reckless Rebel

Lincoln appears in the door, taking in the scene before him with that ever present frown on his face. He looks at me like he barely knows me anymore, which he doesn’t, none of them do. I’m not the same person I was before. I can’t breathe under their comfort, it’s suffocating me. I don’t look back at Elle as I pull my arm from her grip.

“I’m sorry, Elle, I just can’t.” I leave the room, pushing past my brother before either of them can say anything else, and head straight to my room.

I jump into a cold shower, letting the ice water cast over my skin until the numb pain is the only thing I can feel. I wish I could stay here all day, letting it paralyze me into a state of nothing, but I can’t, they’d come find me. I need to get out of here.

I dry myself quickly, brushing my hair back into a bun and finally swilling some Oxy down with a swirl of water from the tap. Then toss on my ripped jeans, a random band tee and my Vans, grabbing my keys and heading out. I take the long route to the garage to avoid the kitchen and living area, where I can hear my family gathered and don’t stop until I reach my car and drive out of the house and estate quickly without looking back.

* * *

Since yesterday, I've read the file on my sister over and over again. Its contents burnt into my brain for eternity. Sofia Decker, seven years old, daughter to Gerry and Ava Decker, younger sister of their seventeen year old daughter. And me.

It’s completely insane, how the fuck do I have a little sister that I knew nothing about? And how did she win the family lottery and land herself the picture perfect home. It's even got a white picket fence for fuck sake. I've been sitting out here for over an hour and I still haven't seen her. I don't even know why I'm here, I don't know what I'd actually do if I did see her. But I do know I have to. I have to see her in person just once, see with my own eyes that the little girl who is my own flesh and blood is happy, safe, and taken care of.

Her picture is at the forefront of my mind. Seeing it was like looking into the past. She is the mirror image of Rachel when she was that age, it's scary how much they look alike. I probably would have made the connection quicker if I wasn’t so fucked up. Rachel. God what would she make of this. She always wanted a little sister, she never admitted it out loud, but I knew. She just wouldn’t have wished the life we lived on another helpless soul.

The file said my mom was already pregnant when Rachel was killed. Did Rachel know? Did she keep this from me? My fingers flex around the steering wheel of my car. A car I hadn’t even driven until this morning, a perfect replica of my old, red Dodge that I lost in the fire at our loft last year. Elle has more money than fucking sense sometimes. My knuckles are white I am gripping the wheel that tight, trying not to think about how fucking sober I am, despite the pills I took. The sweat is pouring down my back, alerting me to just how desperate I am for something else.

I turn the key in the ignition, ready to give up and go get a hit of something when the front door opens. I’m not worried about being seen, it’s not like I parked right outside, but still I notice the movement straight away. A man walks out, he looks to be in his early forties, gingery, blond hair, and a little bit of a beard. He’s talking on the phone, glasses sitting on top of his head, and he’s dressed casually in chinos and a checkered shirt. He continues to talk away on the phone as he makes his way down his front path. He reaches the mailbox, says something else into the phone before he ends the call and shoves his phone in his pocket, reaching in to pull out his mail.

He sorts through it quickly and moves to turn back towards his house, until his eyes land on my car across the street. Fuck he’s spotted me. I could leave now, but he’s already crossing the street towards me. What the fuck do I say? Before I can come up with any sort of excuse, he’s knocking on my window and I have no choice but to roll it down.

“Jace, right?” He offers me a friendly smile as he says my name. “I’m Gerry.” I was not expecting him to know who I am and he must have seen the frown on my face because he adds, “Elle said you might come by.”

“Of course she did,” I mutter under my breath.

“Yeah, she’s a bit of a force that one.” He responds with a laugh, having heard me.

I look at him up close, he doesn’t look surprised to find me here or even mad at my presence. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just shown up like this.” I start, but he is already shaking his head.

“Nonsense, I’m glad you finally came.” The way he says it, makes me grind my teeth. I only found out about their existence yesterday and it just reminds me how long my family kept this from me. He doesn’t let me wallow in my self pity though. “Would you like to come in?”

“Erm,” I start, suddenly panicking at the thought of actually meeting my sister, even though that’s obviously how I found myself here.

“Sofia isn’t home, she and my wife have gone into town for the afternoon.” He offers that information and it settles me a little, god why am I so nervous? “Please, come inside, we can talk and get to know each other a little.”

I want to drive away, I’m not ready for this, just like Marcus said I wasn’t, so why do I find myself taking my keys from the ignition and following him inside. The house is the same on the inside as it is outside: clean, tidy, utterly perfect. I cringe thinking about the shit hole I grew up in. Everything here is light and cosy, a perfect family home, and the crushing pain in my chest begins again.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Gerry asks, and I have to stop myself from asking for a whiskey, my throat aching for the taste of it.

“Just water would be great,” I respond with a tight smile.

He nods, gesturing to the sofa. “Make yourself at home,” he says, disappearing down the hall before I can answer.

I take a seat, breathing in deeply through my nose to try to calm my racing heartbeat. I can still feel the sweat gathering on my back and now my hands have begun to tremble. I close my fists tightly to try to keep them from doing it.

Gerry returns, offering me a cold bottle of water and then taking a seat in the armchair opposite me. I don’t say anything, I don’t know what to say, I can’t imagine either of us have ever been in this kind of situation before. I can’t even look at him as I feel his stare burn into me.

Gerry decides to just dive right in. “I met your Mom at the clinic I volunteered at,” he starts, and I swing my eyes to him immediately.

“You knew my Mom?” I ask to confirm and he nods slowly.

“It was just after Rachel passed away.” He speaks slowly, like he thinks he might set some sort of reaction off in me, clearly he doesn’t know how numb I am to it all. “She came to a support group I was running, begging for help. She told me she was pregnant, she told me she’d lost her daughter.”

I can’t hide my sneer and I don’t want to hear whatever he has to say next. There is only one thing I remember about my mom and that is that she loved drugs more than her own children, that’s all I need to know, so I change the subject.

“Does Sofia know about me?”

He pauses at my words, thinking about what to say I’m sure, before he starts, “Elle called me yesterday, told me she finally told you about her. So I sat her and my eldest daughter down and told them both. Sofia has known for a long time that Ava and I aren’t her birth parents, so she took it pretty well.”

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