For so long, I felt alone at home, hating the place, wanting to be free of everything involved with my father, and that included my mom. Who knows? Maybe to some extent, he abused her too. I don't know that one way or the other, and I don't need to know, but having forgiven my mom makes it so much easier for me to realize I need to forgive myself too.
Because I’ve hurt people. Used people. Guys, mostly. Trying to feel something so I wouldn’t feel numb, trying desperately to fill an ache inside of me.
An ache I still have.
But it’s growing smaller as I try to become the person I want to be, and that has to stand for something.
But the person I want to be is someone who reaches out and helps those who are in pain. Maybe I shouldn’t try to take down the mugger, but I really do think reaching out to Ashley is the right course of action. From there, we’ll see.
My phone’s in my hand yet, and in the call history, I spy the dojo. I have Declan’s number, and I call him. As it rings, I mentally berate myself for having not texted instead.
“Brooke?” He sounds surprised.
“Hey, you aren’t busy, are you? I was wondering if you could come with me. The mugger struck again. At least I think it’s him, but this time, it was at a woman’s house, on the sidewalk right after she parked. Declan, she’s one of ours. She went to our self-defense class. Ashley Medhurst. I want to go by her house and talk to her, but I thought maybe you could come with me.”
“Do you have to go now?”
“I don’t want to wait.”
“Because I can’t do now,” he says.
“You’re busy.”
“Eating lunch.”
"Here's a napkin, Declan," I hear over the line in the background.
“Is that Julie?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says. “Thanks.”
The "thanks" was for her.
Unreal. Un-fucking-real.
"Forget it," I snap, and I hang up and shove my phone into my pocket. It vibrates. He's calling me back, maybe. I don't want to check, but I do just in case it's Detective Rivera. Nope, it's Declan, so I hit to end the call. He then sends a text, but I don't bother to read that.
It’s not a super far drive to Ashley’s house, and I park behind what I assume is her car. I climb out, and I swallow hard. I don’t want to overstep, but I also don’t want her to be alone in this. If I were in her shoes, would I want the instructor from the self-defense class to come by and check on me?
Yes, yes, I honestly would. I’m beyond fed up with the police, and to talk to a fellow victim might be therapeutic.
Besides, I’m already here. What am I going to do? Get back into my car and drive away?
So I walk up to the house. Before I can reach the door, though, I hear a car approaching. I turn and look, half-expecting to see a truck, which is ridiculous, but instead, I spy a familiar car.
Declan's car, to be exact.
I gape at him as he climbs out, long legs appearing first. He manages to walk over to me quickly without appearing to rush.
“What are you… You were with Julie.”
“Yes, but we had finished eating already, and I can’t believe you would just come here without me.”
“Well, I didn’t want to ruin your… meal...” I grimace. “You found her address online?”
“Yes, and I had to break every speed limit posting to make sure I got here as quickly as possible.”
“Because you knew I wouldn’t—”