Good Girl (Playroom) (33 page)

“I’ll start since I’m always the instigator,” Kieren giggles. “I guess you’ve figured out by all the fucking you and Devon do, that he has some issues. I know he hasn’t to
ld you why or what they are. Devon freaks just before he sinks into you and when you moan a certain way. Well, I only fuck virgins for a reason. I’ve never gotten off,” Kieren whimpers.

“What?” I whisper, but the so
und fills the space like a gunshot.

“I fake it. You heard Tina. She was the only woman I was with that wasn’t a virgin, so it was obvious. Everyone thinks I’m a huge predator. I’ve been with a lot of women and not because I have a raging sex drive. I’m looking for the one that I don’t freak on. A virgin doesn’t know what they’re doing, so they won’t notice me faking an orgasm. Practic
e makes perfect, right?” Kieren humorously mutters.

“Jesus,” I hiss. “Never?”
The word is drawn out with shock.

“Don’t worry, my equipment fires just fine, thank you very much. I
just don’t want to spend the rest of my life fucking my palm. Ya see, something happened, and when it’s time to cum my mind flashes back. I have the same problem that Devon has. A moan, a look, even the sound of ragged breath will flip the switch. Devon’s a lucky fuck, once he gets going, he’s good. But not me. I can’t get there. Sometimes it happens with my own hand, too.”

“I’m sorry,” I whimper, and both boys stroke my flesh that rests under their hands in comfort.

“If you say it one more time, I’m gonna drag your ass to
Axel’s
and get the word tattooed on your forehead,” Kieren jokingly threatens.

“When we were kids,” Devon begins, “My dad was working as an undercover cop in Boston. He only came home a few days a month. Those days were when Rae
and Weston were made. Slowly Dad started coming home more often. For a while he was always home, and then one day he didn’t come back for three months. Mom sent the little ones to our grandparents. She changed. The loneliness and the stress of four kids got to her. When my dad came back, he never left again. He started working for the local department, but nothing ever went back to how it was before. Mom didn’t raise us. Dad did it all, and when I was about ten, I started taking care of the little ones. They were only three and four. Mom just checked out.”

“Our lives came crashing down. I was Fourteen, Kieren was twelve, and the kids were six and seven.
Dad was called out to a scene and the kids were at a sleepover… I can’t-” Devon stops- his silence screams through the space.

Devon abruptly stands up and I topple to the floor. “I’m sorry,” is the last thing he says as he grabs the ladder, hooks it into place, and crawls down to the service bay. The back door smashes shut before I can even take a deep breath to reply to his apology.

“I better go after him,” I say in a panic.

“No,” Kieren
grabs my wrist. “Let him go. Devon needs to be alone. He does this all the time.”

“Is Devon
going to be okay,” I sob.

“I don’t know,” Kieren
sadly mumbles and shakes his head. “I think you knowing, and Devon not having to explain, will be best. Do you want me to continue?”

“Do you want to?” I curl up on the mattress and hug my knees to my chest.

“Yeah, I think I do. I’ve never said it out loud before. Okay, here goes nothing.” Kieren drags in a heavy breath, fortifying himself to explain. “What we didn’t know was that Dad was working on a case, and the three months he was gone was because he was sequestered for a trial. I mean… Mom probably knew, but we were kids and didn’t understand. Seven years later the guys he put away came back. Only they came back to us while Dad was safe at work.”

Kieren pulls me into his lap and fiercely hugs me
- so tightly I can barely breathe. “We heard a noise. It was really late. Since we shared a room, Devon and I both bolted up at the scream. After taking care of the kids for so many years, we did everything together. Neither one of us could have seen what we saw and stayed sane if we hadn’t been together.”

Kieren takes a huge gulp of air and expels it out his lungs in a gush. His body involuntarily shakes and he takes a shuddering breath.

“Mom was held down in the middle of the living room with a guy brutally raping her. Devon ran to stop him, but we didn’t see the other two guys. I’ll spare you the gory details. I’m pretty sure your imagination will fill in the blanks.” Kieren recounts in an emotionless voice. “Pan forward a few minutes and Devon and I were duct taped to our dining room chairs- chairs that were placed front and center to the action. Three guys, one mom, and two kids who had to watch and listen. When Mom passed out, their attention was diverted to us. So if you want to know why certain noises and actions yank us into hell… There ya go…”

“What happened to those men?” My voice cracks under the strain of my fury.

“Dad came home. They didn’t notice because by then they were busy looting the house. Mom was still passed out, but Devon and I were trying to break free. Dad walked right past us and we heard a series of pops. It’s the best way to describe it. No yelling or screams, just…
pop
…
pop
…
pop
…
dead
.”

“Your mom?”
Malcolm’s words echo in my mind.

“Cam
illa Mason was a weak woman. Mom was weak before this happened. She blamed Dad for not being home, and then the men. But Mom was made weak. She couldn’t handle any stress at all. Dad was under investigation for the killings. It took months to settle. By that time, Dad made us burn all the furniture, paint the inside of the house, and no matter how bad we wanted to forget, he wouldn’t let us. Dad’s philosophy is to exorcize your demons. But Mom loved her demons. She cradled them and fed them until they took her life. On a random Sunday night, the day before the official report was to be released, Mom went to bed and…
pop… dead…
more furniture to burn and another room to paint. Out of respect for my father and our family, the official report stated Mom was killed during the invasion and my father was declared a hero.”

“I… I…” I speechlessly try to come up with something appropriate
to say, but nothing could ever change the past.

“It’s alright, Spanky. It was seven years ago. As horrible as it was, I’m just thankful that Weston and Rae weren’t home when the men hurt us
, and that they were so young when Mom killed herself on the other side of the wall from where we sat. The stupid bitch didn’t account for trajectory- the bullet pierced the wall and went through the television. Mom could’ve taken one of us with her.”

Kieren hauls me to my feet and embraces me. He’s calmer than I
’d expected. I would’ve run like Devon did. I see Kieren in a new light, and it shines a revelation on me. Adulthood isn’t about age or intelligence, or even emotional maturity. It’s how we react to the world around us. Kieren may act immature for the most part, but right now he is a grown man.

“I didn’t give you the details because Devon may want to someday. Elements of that night and the months that followed
, separately belong to each of us. I’m not sure if I can ever speak my parts, but I do feel better after giving the abbreviated version- lighter, like the burden has lifted. Thank you for listening, Willow, and for not judging.”

~Chapter Twenty-Nine~

“Shit,” I hiss when I drop my keys on the
porch underneath the doorknob. I wanted to run to Devon, but Kieren assured me that he needed his space. I waited until the brothers were together and spoke to each of them on my cell before I made my way home.

I
heavily sigh while I fish around for my keys. This was the last time I burn, and it was painful, so different then the thousands of times before. I don’t regret it, but I didn’t get to enjoy it either- another excellent lesson in my quest of wisdom.

I go to slip the key in the hole while crouching down
, and the door opens itself. “Willow,” Auggie coldly says, glaring down at me.

“Auggie,” I
snidely reply. “We’re you waiting up for me like a parent. I believe we’ve been over this before.” Auggie steps over my back and shuts the door until I’m trapped between his intimidating size and the closed door. I shimmy up, trying to avoid touching him as I stand. Auggie’s size never intimidated me before and it won’t tonight. The fact that Auggie’s trying to use it against me, just makes him an arrogant prick.

“
You need to leave.” Auggie’s voice is deep and frigid. Instead of avoiding my gaze, he won’t look anywhere but my eyes. He doesn’t even blink. His usually happy, seafoam green eyes burn me with glacial fire.

“Why? Do you have guests over?
The Playroom
isn’t open for business.” I scowl up at him. How dare he ruin our Grand Opening.

“You broke the one rule I will not tolerate. I’ve warned you. This is reality, Willow. There are no punishments to take away what you did
tonight. I won’t idly stand by while you ruin your life. I can’t watch it,” Auggie clips out in disgust and steps away from me, as if he can’t stand being in my presence.

“What the
hell are you talking about,” I angrily whisper. If I don’t whisper, I’ll fucking scream.

“You smell like pot. Did you think
you could get away with it?” Auggie incredulously asks me, popping that God damned auburn eyebrow of his.

“I didn’t plan to get away with anything, Auggie. I was going to give you a play
-by-play. You’re doing it again. I come home and you accuse me of shit without giving me the benefit of the doubt- without trusting me.” I clutch my chest and frustratingly pound my fist in time with my heartbeat.

“There is never trust when i
t comes to an addict- never,” Auggie hisses.

“I had a
good reason for smoking tonight. Whether you agree or not, it’s not your call. You’re not the one who has to live with the decision,” I spit out.

“The only reason I could think of that is a good one
, is a medicinal reason. Unless you were diagnosed with a rapid case of Glaucoma in the past few hours, I don’t give a fuck what your excuse is,” he seethes.

Auggie
doesn’t shout at me, he doesn’t call me names- he’s calm, collected, and in control of every cell in his body. He finds himself justified for his reaction. I’m fed-the-fuck-up with his bullshit parenting. I just stare at Auggie in shock while he looks at me with immense disappointment.

“As far as it being my call or decision… It’s my call
on whether or not I allow a lying, manipulative, untrustworthy, going-nowhere-in-life-addict in my home. Willow, I won’t allow you to taint my personal space. It’s my decision who I spend my time with. Who I build a life with. And, Willow, that person will not be you, because you’re incapable of acting with maturity instead of illogical instinct. I want you to leave. Go home to your parents, to your childhood room. If you behave like a child, you should sleep where a child sleeps.”

Auggie
gestures to a backpack- my backpack from when I was in high school- a child’s backpack. The zipper is strained from holding most of my belongings. I bite back a sob. Everything I own fits into a backpack… un-fucking-believable.

Wordless… speechless… thoughtless…
faithless… emotionless… numb…

I stand before Auggie as he finally breaks his trust- not the trust he has in
me, but the trust I have in him. Auggie thinks himself a mature person who reacts with forethought, yet time and time again he has to apologize for jumping to the wrong conclusion- for seeing me as the old Willow.

Fury slams into me.

“What the fuck was ever wrong with being myself? I’ve never had someone make me feel so infinitesimal, and I don’t mean my size. I was a kid, a kid who was just trying to find her way. Instead of helping me, befriending me, you’ve judged every step I’ve taken. Ya know what, Auggie? I don’t need to make excuses to you. I don’t need to lie to you. Ya wanna know why? Because I am an adult… and Goddammit! I like me! I like the Willow I’ve become. And if you’re too blind to see her for who she is, then fuck you,” I whisper the words, because anything more audible would cause an explosion inside of me.  

I take a page for Auggie’s book. I don’t yell, stomp my feet, or throw a shit-fit. I
walk over to the bag that Auggie packed for me- the bag he packed like a controlling parent. I look at him, really look at him, and show him my displeasure in what I see before me.

“I’m done. Don’t bother apologizing for this again. In advance, I don’t accept your future apology. You’ll never change. I evolve by the minute, yet you keep repeating your past mistakes. Maybe it’s you who needs to grow up, Auggie.”

I give Auggie one last look. The indecision that crosses his face vindicates me. I can already see the wheels turning in his head.
Was he wrong about me? Did he misread what I did?
On the heels of those thoughts, I can see the moment of revelation- the moment Auggie realizes he just epically fucked up, and this version of Willow won’t back down. Nothing was wrong with the younger, more naïve version of me, except for the fact that she wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at forgiving Auggie the moment that expression crossed his face.