Twisted Minds (27 page)

Yes. Why?

Come to your window.

Opening up the glovebox, I grabbed the lighter inside it and crouched down by the side of the car. With unexpected vigor, I began methodically tearing out every single page from the journal.

Riiiiiiiiip.

Another page torn out and thrown onto the pile.

Riiiiiiiiip.

And then they were none left. All the pieces of me—all the women that had colored my life—lay stripped on the ground in front of me.

Feeling a little disoriented, I glanced up at Kira’s window expectantly. She stood in her room watching me, though it was hard to gauge her expression.

This was for her. And it was for me, too. It was time to let go.

Knowing her eyes were on me, my attention returned to the pages that littered the ground. I had to act now, before the breeze blew through and swept all the pages away.

Taking a measured breath, I flicked the lighter on and began to set the pages alight. There were so many of them, and it took me longer than I had anticipated, but I didn’t move until every single page began to slowly burn.

As the small flames curled around the pages, my gaze returned to Kira. She was still by her window, watching me, and even though I couldn’t make out her reaction, I was sure this was the response she had wanted from me earlier on in the room.

As the final flames died out and the pages turned to ash, I stood up again and gave Kira one final look before getting into my car.

It was done. I was finally free of my sordid past; free to be a new person; free to turn over a new leaf.

The breeze returned, drifting through the burned remains and scattering the ashes across the ground. Some of the ashes were carried by the breeze, others lay stagnant. But the ashes of the journal were all that remained.

Ashes of a man I once used to be.

Thirty

The City

-Four Weeks Later-

Sitting across the table from my mother wasn’t an ideal situation.

Yet, here I was, staring at her in stony silence as she sipped chardonnay out of a long-stemmed, crystal glass.

Life in New York City. The same old shit it had been before. At least Finn was back, though he’d opted out of my pleasant family dinner. I couldn’t blame him—I wanted to opt out, too.

Since I’d last seen my mother almost two months ago, it appeared she’d had even more work done on her face, which was practically plastic now. That nose wasn’t the same nose I remembered; it was way too narrow and pointed. It was hard to believe there had once been a time when we’d shared similar features.

Her hair was also a few shades lighter from its natural chestnut brown, which looked incredibly unnatural on her. As usual, she was dressed in an expensive, navy blue dress with what appeared to be a ridiculous raccoon fur collar. Her petite hands were adorned with rings and bracelets.

George—or husband number four—on the other hand, looked like he could be her father, as he sat at the head of the table with his greying hair and creased face. His right hand was shaking as he spooned some lobster bisque from a porcelain coupe bowl into his mouth.

The Parkinson’s had worsened in the last year since he’d married my mother, and coupled with a few other kidney and heart problems, he wasn’t doing as well as he had when he’d first begun dating her a couple of years ago.

“Do you need some help, George dear?” my mother asked him, her tone as sweet as honey. She loved to play the role of the doting wife, attempting to act as though she gave a fuck—truth was, no one was as important to her as herself.

He waved her away with his left hand, his brow pinching. “I can do it, Danielle.”

My mother’s surgically enhanced lips pursed in irritation, but she didn’t respond. She had to stay in his good graces until he died, after all. That was, if she wanted to inherit a portion of his vast fortune.

George continued to eat his soup at an excruciatingly painful pace. It was so painful that I actually wanted to go over there and force feed him so I wouldn’t have to see how feeble he’d become.

His mind was still sharp, despite his physical condition. Obviously, he didn’t satisfy my mother sexually anymore—I wondered if he ever had—which was why she was seeking out other alternatives.

At the memory of her on her birthday, my grip on my spoon tightened, until I was pretty sure I could bend metal. I hastily set it aside and reached for the glass of water to my left, swallowing it down.

Since I’d gotten back to New York City, I’d managed to avoid seeing my mother. It had been hard, and I’d managed to trick her by calling her more often, but finally she caught up to what I was doing and demanded that I come over for dinner.

To say that being around her was pure torture was an understatement.

“So, tell me Nathaniel,” she drawled, turning her glittering black eyes onto me, “what has it been like working for Stephen? Awful, I assume.”

About five weeks ago, I’d started my position as an acquisitions and development consultant at
MDC
. Basically, I was starting at the bottom, planning and communicating with third parties during the acquisitions process. My father had told me it was only temporary and that he would move me onto bigger projects by the end of the year.

Yet, even as I dived into my job, I did it with the realization that I was privileged and that there were people out there who didn’t have what I had. And it wasn’t because they chose to be that way; it was because that’s what they were born into.

Finn had started at
MDC
a little after I had, and had jumped into his role in the financial department with an enthusiasm I couldn’t rival. He needed the job more than I did, something to lose himself in.

“It’s fine,” I said, not looking her directly in the face. The only image I had when I saw her was the one of her head rolling back in ecstasy as the pool boy ate her out. “It keeps me busy.”

The job couldn’t have come at a better time because it kept me distracted from all the shit that had gone down in Ripley. Even though I thought about Kira and the time we’d shared, I’d had no contact with her since I’d returned to the city, other than what little Finn told me about her.

She was due to arrive here any day now to get settled in before classes started next week. It was strange not seeing her every day, not talking to her, not touching her, but that’s the way things had to be now.

“I don’t know how you work with that man.” She was referring to my father, obviously. “He’s a micro-managing nightmare. Just
awful
.”

Considering the woman had never worked a day in her life, it was rich of her to assume anything.

“What would you know about hard work?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “Other than spreading your legs?”

My mother almost choked on the bisque she’d just spooned into her mouth. “How dare you, Nathaniel Richard! I am your mother!”

Danielle Henriksen—or whatever last name she was going by these days—was no mother. Theresa Walsh was a mother. She was a woman who put her family first. She was a woman who believed in instilling noble values in her children from a young age.

“I’m pretty sure a mother doesn’t allow the pool boy to perform oral sex on her fifty-year-old vagina while her naïve, frail husband supports her financially and pays for her terrible nose job.”

Oh, fuck. I’d gone and put my foot in it now, but attempting to be civil around this woman was close to impossible. There were too many fake people in the world; sometimes you had to break the illusion with truth.

“That is enough out of you, Nathaniel,” she snapped, not sounding quite so proper and ladylike anymore. Her artificial face tried to assume some form of outrage. “And my nose job is not terrible; it was done by Dr. Roberts, and we all know he’s one of the best in the world.”

The fact that she seemed to care more about the nose job comment instead of the oral sex one was pretty fucking disturbing. It also showed what a shameless person she was.

“What is going on here?” George demanded in a raspy tone as though my words had finally sunk in. “What pool boy?”

“Look what you’ve gone and done,” my mother chided, shooting me a look of warning to shut the hell up. “Poor George is all upset now.”

It was true. George seemed a little out of breath, as though listening to my mother and I fight was physically exerting for him. Even though I was seconds away from pulling my phone out of my pocket and showing George exactly the kind of person my mother was, I suddenly felt bad for letting my temper get the better of me.

George was already an old man dealing with his own health problems and trying to manage his investments as best as he could before he died. The last thing he needed was to discover that his doting wife was actually an adulteress.

This wasn’t the path to being a better person. It didn’t involve revenge or retribution. It didn’t involve playing twisted games with people. Sometimes being a better person was simply knowing when to walk away.

Pushing my chair away from the table, I stood up too quickly. “I have to go.”

My mother’s face turned lobster red. “Don’t you dare leave! You’ve caused an awful mess that you need to fix.”

“No, mother, I don’t.” I shook my head at her, suddenly feeling sorry for her and the monster she’d become. “You’re the one who did this. It’s yours to fix.”

Moving away from the table, I began to walk towards George with determined steps.

She rose from her chair, her hands shaking with anger. “Stop right there! You don’t get to walk away from this!”

“Hey, George,” I said, leaning down to speak to him.

George glanced up at me with dull, brown eyes. It seemed as though the life had been sapped out of them. No doubt being with my mother was a strenuous job and I had to give him props for putting up with her.

“What is going on, Nathaniel?” he asked, seeming exhausted by all the noise erupting from my mother’s mouth.

“You’re a great guy, George,” I ignored his question and placed a hand on his shoulder instead. “Good luck with her.”

With that, I walked out of the lavish dining room and headed out of their upscale Upper West Side home. The air was refreshing as it hit my face, as though it was cleansing me of whatever poison had infiltrated me while being in my mother’s presence.

I’d caught a cab to get here, but for some reason I wanted to walk the eight blocks back to my apartment. Finn was working late, so there was no rush to get home.

As I headed down the dark street, my head was a swirl of chaos. My mother yelling, George’s confusion, my own revelation, and my departure.

I was done with my mother. Done with the games she played. I was done acting like I could stand to be around her. I was done keeping her dirty, little secret.

Setting myself free from her was the best damn decision I could ever make. It was the love of the Walshs’ that I missed. It was their good nature that I missed. And Kira—she was the one I missed above everyone.

The past few weeks had been lonely, but at the same time they had been liberating. The people I’d previously frequented clubs with were the ones I began to avoid. Actually, I hadn’t entered a bar since I’d stepped back in the city. Probably the biggest change I’d made was women. Or should I say lack off?

There hadn’t been a woman in my bed for four weeks. No one caught my eye. There wasn’t a stirring of lust as women flirted with me. I simply smiled and nodded in disinterest—because I had known it since the moment I had first laid eyes on Kira, and a sense of completeness had descended on me. There was no one like her. There would never be.

Despite knowing there was no chance for us, that she would always see me differently, I continued to hold onto a hope that one day things might change. I guess you could call me a fool in love, and now that I was one, it wasn’t such a foolish thing to be.

In the noise of the city I had searched for solitude, and I had found it. I reflected on the things I had done in the past and how I could be better. For what it was worth, even though I wasn’t entirely there yet, I was trying. Just like I had promised the universe that day—which felt like eons ago now—as I sat atop the pebbly hill at Ripley Beach with Finn.

My phone vibrated in my pocket just then, and a sinking sensation swamped me as I guessed it was my mother. She had probably sent me a message full of profanity, demanding that I return and lie to George about what I’d meant about the pool boy.

Pulling my phone out, I stared down at the message, reading it slowly. Blinking, to make sure I wasn’t seeing things, I read it again.

The message was from Kira.

I need a friend to come find me.

Attached to the message was a picture. Kira had taken a selfie—a very bad one at that—of the side of her face, which was blurry. My eyes analyzed the dark building she was standing in front of, recognition flooding me.

My heartbeat increased. She was standing outside my apartment building. She was here.

Without even responding, I took off at a run. I was still five blocks away from my apartment, but the drive to get to Kira was strong. I pushed my feet to move faster as her message flashed through my mind. Those words—they were what I’d said to her over dinner at
Great Lakes
. At the time, it had seemed cheesy, but now they seemed pivotal.

Kira was waiting for me. She wanted me to come and find her.

My years of running track were of good use. My legs weren’t screaming, my chest wasn’t aching, as I rounded the corner and my building came into view. I had made it here in ten minutes flat. That was pretty good time, considering the West blocks were slightly longer than your average block.

At first I couldn’t see her. Then I caught sight of long legs stretched out on the bottom step. Kira must have heard my pounding feet, because she shot up and turned in my direction.

And there she was in all her glory, wrapped up in a coat, all smiles and sunshine hair. As perfect as the day I’d first laid eyes on her.

My feet slowed, as I tried to calm my frantic heart. Kira approached me with slow steps as though she wasn’t sure how I would react to seeing her.

“Hey,” I said, suddenly feeling anxious as my eyes ran over her. “Fancy running into you here.”

A smile, as bright as the day, broke out across her face, and she wrapped her arms around me, catching me completely off guard.

“It’s so good to see you, Nate.” Her warm breath brushed against my ear.

Now that Kira was in my arms, I didn’t want to let her go. She fit so perfectly against my body, the missing piece of me. But I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Just because she was here didn’t mean she was mine.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, releasing her.

Kira stepped back, seeming disappointed. “I told you. I needed a friend.”

“
Friend?
” The word sounded bitter in the air. “Is that what you want?”