Accidentally On Purpose Part 36

I thought sharing a few days with my closest friends would be a distraction from my own head, and I thought I would have a great time, but after one day, I realized I was the odd man out. Donya had Jerry when he wasn't in a gamepr, Mayson had Fred, and Tabitha had Leo. I had Lucas, but that wasn't quite the same.

In addition, since my exit from the state nearly two years before, Donya and Mayson had grown close, and it seemed that more recently, Tabitha made the duo into a trio. They talked about things I didn't know about and had inside jokes. I felt so left out.

I called Luke five days before Labor Day to ask him if he was coming. Without an explanation, he simply said no. When there was only the sound of his fingers clicking on his keyboard, I lost my head for a moment.

"If you're going to be like this again, I may as well not come back. Lucas and I can settle down somewhere else."

"I can't come out there, Emmy! I'm busy! Don't you understand that?"

"The only thing I am understanding is your bad att.i.tude."

I ended the call, shut my phone off and left it on my bed. The other girls were waiting for me on the deck for a girls-only dinner. The kids were in bed and the guys went out to do whatever it is guys do when they get out away from their women for a night.

For the first part of dinner, I didn't say much. I listened to everyone else talk about their s.e.x life and their men. I just kept pouring myself wine until I got bored with that and started making drinks out of liquor I found at the bar inside. I didn't have much to contribute to the conversation since my s.e.x life only picked up recently, and I didn't really have a man, per se. By the time conversation got over to me, I was pretty well lit.

"So," Donya said, looking at me over a fork full of chocolate cake. "I was looking in your purse for some gum today and I found that gorgeous bracelet Kyle gave you."

I couldn't even be mad at her. I go through D's personal things like they're my own, especially her closet.

"Who gave you a bracelet?" Tabitha asked, knowing the least about my life before Lucas.

"Kyle Sterling gave her a bracelet, about two years ago. Em said it was for her job performance."

Tabitha shrugged. "So? Lots of employers give their employees gifts. I knew a guy who even got a new car as a bonus."

"Emmy is middle management, Tabitha," Donya pointed out. "If the bracelet was worth a few hundred bucks - h.e.l.l, even a couple grand, that would be one thing. That would be believable. Emmy, tell your cousin how much your bracelet is worth."

"At the time it was bought or its current value?" I asked before taking another long sip of one of my concoctions.

"If I bought that bracelet from Tiffany's two years ago, how much would I have paid for it?"

"About seventy grand."

Tabitha's jaw dropped. "Shut up!"

"Exactly," Donya said to her.

"So what's your point?" I asked, feeling a little annoyed.

"What is the real reason the bracelet was bestowed upon you? May and I have some theories, but only you can tell us for sure."

"Why are you asking me now?" I asked. "Why didn't you ask me before?"

"You seemed a little...unstable," Mayson said. "Now you seem to be more like yourself...which is still...rather unstable."

"Just answer the question," Donya said. "It's us, not your wacky mother or your stuck up sisters."

"I'm so lost," Tabitha said, looking at me with big eyes. All three of them were looking at me with big eyes.

I guzzled the rest of my drink and with a drunken smile said "Kyle bought me the bracelet as an apology for breaking my wrist."

"I knew it!" Mayson slammed a hand against the table, making dishes and gla.s.ses rattle.

"That mother f.u.c.ker broke your wrist?" Donya asked, incredulously.

"Yessss," I rolled my eyes. "That's what I said."

"On purpose?" Tabitha asked and before I could answer, shook her head and waved her arms. "Wait! You were s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g Kyle Sterling? The d.i.c.k?"

"Yes, I was, Tabs and no he didn't do it on purpose."

"Were you s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g him while you were with Luke?"

"Yes, Tabitha!" Donya said, irritated that my poor cousin wasn't catching on fast enough. "How did it happen, Emmy? I can't see you taking that s.h.i.+t."

"We had dinner with Leo while we were in Miami, and during dinner Leo and I eluded to the fact that we f.u.c.ked around when we were kids and -"

"Whoa!" Tabitha slapped the table now. "You had s.e.x with Leo? When?"

I waved a hand. "A long time ago, when he and Leslie were broken up."

"Which time?" Tabitha spat out, sarcastically. She didn't really expect an answer, but I was drunk.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Two, maybe three times. Maybe four. I don't remember..."

Her jaw again hung open, but now she looked p.i.s.sed off instead of surprised and quizzical.

"Interesting how he's never mentioned that to me."

"It was a long time ago, Tabitha! d.a.m.n." Donya snapped before turning back to me. "So, Kyle got p.i.s.sed off and broke your d.a.m.n arm?"

"No. Back at the hotel, we started arguing about it and I got p.i.s.sed off and left. I went back to Leo's, drank a lot of alcohol, and things got a little heavy."

"You f.u.c.ked him again again?" Tabitha yelled.

"No," I said bitterly. "He didn't want to take advantage of me apparently, because I was drunk."

"What the f.u.c.k," Tabitha grumbled.

"Then what happened?" Mayson pressed, and then "Wait! Did you sleep with any of my boyfriends?"

"No, I promise."

"Okay, good," she said, relieved.

"I just made out with one."

"You see?" Tabitha said. "She's a wh.o.r.ebag."

"c.u.m bucket," Mayson nodded in agreement.

"You guys," Donya made a disgusted sound. "Can we save the name calling for later? I want to hear the hoe's story."

I told them the rest of the story, all the way up to the night the bracelet was presented to me.

"Okay, Mayson wins that bet," Donya said, digging into her purse. She handed Mayson a few bills. "I thought it was like a promise gift, you know?"

"Now you have to spill the beans about New Years, Emmy," Mayson said seriously.

"What happened on New Year's?" Tabitha asked. "Did you try to hump Leo again?"

"Okay, you need to deal with that another time," Donya said. "Leo didn't do anything to you. n.o.body knew you would end up with him."

Tabitha slumped in her chair and mumbled "He knew." knew."

"New Years," Mayson pressed.

"I've never spoken about the New Year's incident," I said quietly.

"Speak about it now," Donya insisted. Even Tabitha looked interested underneath her anger.

I had to pour myself another drink before I started.

Chapter Forty-Four

It's funny how I can omit certain, crucial details and have you believe one thing, when in fact circ.u.mstances were completely different. I'll bet the average onlooker thought Kyle was squeaky clean and was only a d.i.c.k by nature. Maybe he was a d.i.c.k by nature, but crystal meth had a way of making a d.i.c.k into a monster. My broken wrist in Miami was the result of jealousy and a little bit of meth up a nostril. Up until New Years, there was nothing worse than some shoving and aggressive yelling and empty promises of getting off of the drug, along with promises of ending his relations.h.i.+p with Jessyca.

I was smarter than my actions proved. I knew that I should have broken up with Kyle months before Luke left, and especially afterward. I knew that when he started taking hits of meth for "therapeutic reasons" that I should have bowed out, but I guess my addiction to Kyle was just as bad as being addicted to any drug. The results were the same: on the surface it felt really good, but the damage to one's body and mind was irreversible, deadly.

In the early hours of the new year, our addictions consumed us. Kyle had struck me, and even as I sat there on the floor in confusion, thinking it had to have been a mistake, he was already lost to me. When he took a handful of hair and tried to force me to my feet, I clawed at his hand. The blood seeping from the gouges I created did nothing to deter him before he slammed my head into the mirror over my vanity. As the gla.s.s shattered to the floor, all I could think about in that moment was about the destruction of the last gift my grandmother had given to me before pa.s.sing away when I was only nine years old.

While Kyle roared like a beast and destroyed other mementos in my room, I crawled through the gla.s.s to the side of my bed and pulled myself to my feet. I watched with an open mouth as he overturned a tall dresser, still full of clothes and other miscellaneous items. When his eyes turned on me, I didn't see Kyle. I saw madness, and it took my breath away. As he yelled at me, cursed at me, and threatened my life, I understood that there would be no reasoning with him, and there would be no escape.

I would like to tell you that I defended myself, that I fought back, and I kicked his a.s.s, but then I would be lying. The meth made Kyle's level of strength inhuman. I was a mere mortal, with no stupid drug in my blood. Nothing short of a miracle was going to turn me into Wonder Woman or some other awesome female super hero. This wasn't one of those happy ending hour long prime time shows where the heroin stands up to her attacker and overcomes him with wits and luck. If I further provoked Kyle by fighting back, he was going to kill me.

I avoided his blows as much as possible, but my primary goal was to protect my unborn child. Instead of holding up a defensive arm, I covered my belly and took whatever he was delivering. When I was shoved to the floor, I had enough sense to put my hands out so that I wouldn't fall, literally right on top of my child. As soon as I was able, I ran into my bathroom and locked the door just as he reached it. Kyle screamed from the other side of the door, kicking and punching at the door, demanding that I open it. I was afraid that he would eventually kick it down, but when it seemed that the door would hold, I slid to the floor with my back against the tub. I stared at the door in horror, bleeding all over my white rug, every part of my body throbbing in pain.

I didn't cry. Crying wasn't going to help my situation. There was nothing to help my situation - my phone was lost in the chaos that was my bedroom and my neighbors were a little too far away to have heard my screams and Kyle's yelling. I had to wait for him to either leave or pa.s.s out, and eventually he did pa.s.s out, but so did I.

When I woke up, sunlight was pouring through the bathroom window onto my face. I was stiff and sore and it took me a few minutes to get to my feet. I looked at myself in the mirror and shrunk back at what I saw. My head was covered in dry blood, cuts and bruises. My lip was busted, my eyes blackened, and there were bruises forming on my arms. I lifted up my s.h.i.+rt and forced myself not to cry when I saw the light bruises on my chest and belly. I felt Lucas moving around as he always did first thing in the morning, and I took some comfort from that.

I looked away from the mirror and plucked gla.s.s from my hands before putting my ear to the door. I listened hard until I heard the unmistakable sound of Kyle's light snoring. Carefully, I opened the door a crack and peeked out. Kyle was asleep on the floor right outside the door, his head leaning up against the door frame and his legs across the length of the door. As quietly as possible, I stepped over him and tip toed through the carnage and out of my room. I went into the kitchen, picked up the phone and slumped into a chair.

I didn't know who to call. It would have been wise to call the police, but I had relatives on the police force and no matter what secrecy they were sworn to, this would get back to my parents, and then my dad would shoot Kyle, only after my mother cut off his nut sack with a rusty knife. I didn't want to see my parents go to prison for my mistakes, so I didn't call the police, and I didn't call my mom and dad. I could call Donya, but the result would be the same - prison for dismemberment and murder. I wish I could tell you that I was exaggerating.

After a few more minutes of thought, I decided who to call and punched in the number. Walter Sterling answered on the second ring. He sounded tired and hung over. He probably had a h.e.l.l of a night at the party, and the after party he no doubt went to at the gentleman's club.

"Your son is unconscious in my bedroom," I said into the phone. My voice sounded terrible, like I had screamed all night. Oh wait. I had.

"Sounds like a personal problem," Walter said.

"It's going to become your your personal problem if you don't come get him right now." personal problem if you don't come get him right now."

"I don't think you're in a position to make demands, Miss Grayne."

"Oh, but I jest, Walter Walter. Kyle had a c.o.c.ktail of meth, alcohol, and G.o.d knows what else last night. He destroyed my bedroom and beat the s.h.i.+t out of me. So, you have a choice. You can come get him and you and I can have a little talk, or I can call the police to come and get him and you can have a talk with them. Please choose quickly, because my patience is non-existent right now."

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then "f.u.c.k."

Twenty-five minutes later, Walter Sterling and three big goons were standing in my foyer. The goons showed no emotion, but Walter looked at me with regret - not regret that I was hurt, or that his son was a derelict, but regret that his pockets ran deep and that I was about to dip into them.

"Take Kyle to the guest house on the estate," Walter told the goons. "Keep him there, don't let him leave. I'll be in touch."

They nodded and went upstairs. Walter followed me into the kitchen. I took a long sip from my third bottle of water since escaping the bedroom while he poured himself a gla.s.s of Tequila that had been sitting on my counter for months, untouched, except to clean under it. Okay, I didn't clean under it. A couple of minutes later, we heard incoherent mumbling from Kyle coming down the stairs. The door opened and a blast of cold air blew through the house before the door slammed shut and all was silent.

"He may need a doctor," I said.

"I'll take care of it. What do you want, Emmy?" He looked tired, worn out, and old. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not really.

"I need to see a doctor, someone who won't ask too many questions or report what he sees."

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. There was a short conversation with very little information exchanged and then the call ended. He wrote down on a napkin the name and address of a Doctor Larkin.

"He's expecting you and he will be discreet. What else do you want?"

"I need someone to come clean up the mess Kyle created when he hulked out. The bedroom is trashed and there's blood in the carpet."

"I will send someone before the morning is out. Surely, that isn't the end of your demands."

I was not in need of anything. I had more than enough money for myself and the baby. I didn't need extravagant things, a house on the Mediterranean or a fancy car, but I wanted to hurt the Sterlings, and the way to hurt the Sterlings was through their pockets.

"I know you're not straight with your business dealings, Walter. Pillow talk, you know. So, why don't you anti-up and I'll pretend to be completely ignorant of your fraudulent behaviors?" I sounded so bad a.s.s, but I was really weak, tired, and pretty much shattered inside. If he gave me a hard time, I was going to jump across the table and try to kill him with my water bottle.