Cuts Run Deep (7 page)

I never planned to tell Piper about my dad. I’d never told any of my friends. Not even Tyler or Zach, and we’d been friends since we were kids. Sure, they knew my dad and I weren’t close. Anyone with half a brain could see that. But none of my friends had tight relationships with their dads either. I think it’s like teenage protocol or something. 

But when Piper showed me her scars, I knew I had to be upfront with her. She shared something so personal and deep with me. It was the first time she’d really let me see her without any walls up. And I knew that if I had any hope of her continuing to let me in, I had to be open to her too.

And I don’t regret it. Not at all. I never felt as close to her as I did that day. When she nestled into my chest and held me tight, it was like she was releasing all of her fears and hurt into my arms. Like she was trusting me to save her.

That’s exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to save her. I wanted to make everything better. I wanted to erase all her sadness and pain.

If only it were that simple, but I could tell when I looked into her eyes that it wasn’t. There was a lot of turmoil there. Maybe that’s part of what drew me to her. That raw sadness in her green eyes. It was magnetic to the hero in me.

At least that’s what Zach said. He said that I only like Piper because I have a hero complex. I know that in some ways he’s right. Ever since I was a little kid I’ve had a desire to help people. I remember one time when I was around five years old, Mom took me out to lunch at a little diner. It’s no longer open anymore, but I think it was called Melba’s. Anyway, there was an old man eating by himself, and he looked so sad. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. At some point Mom got up to use the bathroom, and I carried my plate over to the man’s table and asked if I could sit with him. He said yes, so I sat down. Apparently he’d lost his wife recently, and this was his first time eating out by himself. I could tell he was grateful that I sat with him, and it made me feel good. When Mom returned she was upset with me, and on the way home she warned me about talking to strangers. But I knew that I had done the right thing. The man needed help; he needed someone. And I was there.

Tyler knew better than to tease me since our whole relationship was because of my need to assist others. That didn’t stop him from being rude to Piper though. And that pissed me off to no end. Today I confronted him and Zach about it. They had been begging me to hang out with them for weeks. With the play and Piper, I hadn’t had much time for them lately. A fact that they reminded me of incessantly. They texted me nonstop and harassed me about it at school.

So finally I gave in. I told Piper I couldn’t hang out this afternoon, and instead I went over to Zach’s. It killed me, and I almost turned my car around a million times on the way to Zach’s. It’s crazy how much I missed Piper when we weren’t together. Almost like she was a part of me. Like without her I was missing a limb or something.

Anyway, I forced myself to stay the course, and I ended up at Zach’s. Tyler was already there, and they were playing videogames in the family room. Zach had a spread of chips and candy all over the coffee table. Nutrition wasn’t big in Zach’s household. His parents were pretty heavy, and food was all about convenience. When you ate over at Zach’s you were pretty much guaranteed take-out or pizza. And his cupboards were always filled with junk food, unlike the cupboards at my house that were always filled with organic, no sugar, no taste stuff.

So I grabbed a bag of chips and joined the guys for some videogame action. And I was actually having fun until they started in on Piper and the play. Then I seriously lost it. I started cussing them out, telling them to back off. And they were genuinely shocked, which was weird because I’d been warning them for weeks to take it easy on Piper. I guess they didn’t realize how serious I was.

Then Zach said something about how Piper had changed me. How I wasn’t myself anymore. That made me even angrier. So I told them that if they couldn’t accept Piper, then maybe we shouldn’t hang out anymore.

Zach responded with some shit about how maybe they didn’t want to spend time with someone who was pussy whipped like me. And then he made the mistake of spouting off some sexual joke about Piper.

I couldn’t take it. I lunged at him, punching him in the jaw. I knew it was stupid. Zach has a temper, and getting him riled up is never a good thing. He punched me back, getting me right in the eye. I have a pretty good shiner now. Luckily Tyler stepped between us before we could beat the shit out of each other. Frankly, I was shocked that Tyler had the balls to get involved. But I was grateful.

I’d seen Zach beat guys up before. He could be pretty brutal.

I left after that. We didn’t make up. Maybe we never will. That should upset me, but oddly enough I don’t give a shit. Sure, Tyler and Zach have been my friends for years, but right now they don’t mean as much to me as Piper does. And the way they’re treating her is ruining whatever friendship we have left.

It’s funny, the closer I feel to Piper the more disconnected I feel to everyone else. Perhaps this is what falling in love feels like.

The sky was darkening when I finally left my room and headed downstairs. The house was quiet. Silence enveloped me like a thick blanket, warm and restrictive. I padded in my bare feet toward the kitchen. The bright yellow walls mocked me when I flicked on the light switch. Glancing out the kitchen window, I noticed that only Mom’s car was parked in the driveway. Dad wasn’t home, and I was betting that Mom was still in her room.

Opening the fridge, my gaze landed on the casserole dish covered in tin foil. Mrs. Simmons from next door brought that over earlier. At the time I thought it was so weird. I’d never understood why people brought food over when someone died. Like how would food bring that person back? How would it make it better?

But now I was grateful she brought it over. After sliding it out of the rack, I carried it to the counter. I peeled back the foil, exposing a casserole topped with a thick layer of cheese. Even though I had no idea what it was, my stomach growled. Whatever it was it looked better than the tofu quinoa stuff my mom usually made.

Mom worked as a personal trainer and nutritionist at the Red Blossom Fitness Center, so healthy eating wasn’t just a hobby for her, it was her job. Jackson hated my mom’s cooking. For years he’d eaten at his friend’s houses more than here. He used to tease Mom all the time about her food. She never thought it was funny, but I did. And sometimes he’d sneak me a slice of pizza or a bag of candy.

Reaching up into the cupboard, I pulled out a plate and set it on the counter. Then I grabbed a spatula and spooned out a section of the casserole onto the plate. After shoving the plate in the microwave and pressing the numbers, I turned around and leaned against the counter. The scent of cheese and sauce filled the kitchen. My stomach rumbled again, and I wondered when the last time I ate was. It must have been yesterday when Jackson was still alive. God, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Could it really only have been yesterday?

When the microwave dinged, I reached in and pulled out the plate. After grabbing a fork out of the silverware drawer I headed to the table. Sitting down by myself in the quiet house, I took a bite of the food. It tasted good on my tongue. Definitely more flavorable than what we normally ate. I was sure that everything in this casserole was against my mom’s nutritional guidelines for us, but I didn’t care. And honestly, I didn’t think she’d care at this point.

I had a feeling everything would be different for all of us now. Things that felt so important yesterday seemed silly now.

As I leaned down to take another bite, I made a mental note to thank Mrs. Simmons next time I saw her. When she came by earlier I’d been kind of rude. Sometimes living in a small town can be tough. Everyone knew everything about everyone. There was never the option to grieve on your own. And I guess I wasn’t in the mood to share my grief with one of our neighbors when she came by.

A memory hit me fast like a bolt of lightning, almost knocking me out of my chair. Jackson and I had had a similar conversation just a month earlier. It was when Shane Dawson died. He was a student in Jackson’s grade. It was a senseless, tragic death, much like Jackson’s.

I didn’t even think Jackson knew him. They were in the same grade, but they didn’t exactly run in the same circles. But Jackson took Shane’s death really hard. In fact, looking back, Jackson’s mood took a drastic change after Shane’s death. In the days following Shane’s death, Jackson retreated into himself. He spent more time in his room, more time alone, and he went out less. That was probably when he started reading and writing poetry.

At the time I thought it was a little strange, but I also sort of understood. I mean, our whole school was reeling. It wasn’t every day a teenager died in this town. In fact, it rarely ever happened. And Jackson had always had such a kind heart. He worried about people a lot. It’s one of the things I loved about him. Even though he seemed like this fun-loving jock, there was a sensitive side underneath. Not everyone got to see it, and that made me feel special.

I’d never been in the popular circle, but with Jackson I felt like an elitist.

A few nights after Shane’s death, I caught Jackson sulking around the house. It was like a perpetual black cloud hung over his head. So I called him on it.

“You okay?” I intercepted him in the hallway while he was heading towards his room. He wore jeans, a black t-shirt, and a baseball cap on his head. That’s how I knew he hadn’t been out with Piper. He’d told me once before that she didn’t like when he wore hats.

He shoved his hands in his pocket, and in that moment he appeared smaller than normal. “You ever get tired of living in this town, Court?”

“All the time,” I said with a bitter laugh. “But I didn’t think you did. You’ve always loved it here.”

“I know.” He frowned.

He’d officially perked my curiosity. “What’s changed?”

“I just never realized how much everyone gossips in this damn town.”

“Are you kidding?” I raised a brow. “It’s the worst. Always has been. Did you seriously just notice?” Dumbfounded, I crossed my arms over my chest. I’d been a recipient of gossip enough times to hate it. I was surprised Jackson hadn’t noticed it before. Then again, he’s a guy. Maybe they didn’t gossip as much as girls. I suspected that they didn’t.

“I think it’s more apparent now with Shane’s death. It’s all anyone talks about, and I guess it’s just bothering me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Did you know him well?”

He shook his head vehemently. “No. Barely at all.”

“Oh.” I stared at my brother, wondering what was upsetting him so much. If he hardly knew Shane, why was he so agitated?

“It’s weird though, huh? That he was here one day and gone the next?”

I nodded. Yeah, death had always scared me. I hated the finality of it. It was disconcerting to think about. That’s why I mostly tried to avoid the topic.

“And it upsets me how everyone is sensationalizing it. Shouldn’t we let the guy rest in peace?”

I took the last bite of the casserole, my stomach starting to hurt. Was Jackson resting in peace? I was never even sure what that meant. How did someone rest in peace? If heaven was real, then I imagined it was filled with peace. But if heaven wasn’t real, then did we just cease to exist? Or did we roam the earth as ghosts? That didn’t seem so peaceful.

I hoped heaven was real. In fact, I more than hoped. I desperately needed to believe it. Because if it were true, then maybe it wasn’t goodbye. Perhaps it was just see you later. I smiled, liking the idea of that.

It gave me hope that I’d see my brother again someday.

Thank god that Mom and Dad finally left. It couldn’t have happened soon enough. Not only were they getting on my nerves, but I desired time to myself. After they left, a nurse came in to check on me. When she left, I asked her to turn off the light. Luckily the other bed in this room was empty so I could have some peace and quiet. Well, at least as much peace and quiet as you could have in a hospital. The door was still open, and noise and chaos abounded in the hallway. But the nurse dragged the curtain closed near my bed, so at least it blocked out some of that.

I was grateful to be alone. It gave me an opportunity to gather my thoughts. Maybe if I had time to sort through my mind I could figure out what happened last night. It was so weird that I couldn’t remember. Was it because of the concussion? I doubted that, because I could remember everything before. So perhaps I was subconsciously repressing the memory. I used to think that only happened in romance novels or soap operas, but apparently it’s a real thing. I was living proof.

What was so bad that I would need to repress it?

Dad’s words floated through my mind, but I shook them away. No matter how bad it appeared, I’d never believe that I intentionally hurt Jackson. There had to be another explanation for why he was killed with my dad’s gun.

My dad didn’t have the gun when I tried to kill myself. Once he got it, I found myself wishing he had. It would’ve been easier and much more effective to kill myself with one press of my finger. Easier and less messy. Sawing into my arm with a razor was difficult, painful and gross. Whenever I thought about it, I cringed. Not one of my finest moments, let me tell you.

Mom was mad when Dad bought it. I think she worried I would try to use it on myself. That’s why they locked it in a safe and didn’t give me the password. I knew why Dad bought it. He said it was to protect me, but it wasn’t. It was to protect himself.

After what happened last year, there was enough hate in our neighborhood to spark fear in my dad. They didn’t just hate me, they hated my whole family. Even though I was the one who caused the damage, my parents were guilty by association. When the harassment got to be too much and the police wouldn’t help us, Dad decided it was time to move.

Not that I blamed him. I was scared too.

I still was sometimes.

My phone had been changed so I no longer received threatening texts. No one knew where we lived, so I no longer got hateful words yelled at me or spray painted on my front lawn. But that didn’t stop the nightmares. There was nowhere to run from those. I couldn’t outrun my own mind.

And I couldn’t outrun the rumors. I had no idea how people at this new school had any information about what had transpired last year. My parents sure as hell didn’t tell anyone. Not even when they enrolled me in this school. But still people knew. I mean, they didn’t know the truth, but they knew things. And it bothered me.

Jackson was always telling me to let it go. That it was no big deal. That kids liked to gossip, but that it didn’t mean anything.

Only it did. It meant something to me.

And today it had gotten personal.

It was no secret that people didn’t like me at this school. I’d been here for months and still Jackson was the only person who paid attention to me. Sure there were a few kids in drama class that were pleasant enough, but none of them were BFF material. However, the worst offenders were Jackson’s friends. Or former friends really. He hardly even spoke to them anymore. My least favorite was the girl with the big boobs. It was clear she had a thing for Jackson. Jealousy was written all over her face every time she saw me.

When I went to my locker today it had been spray painted. The word MURDERER was scrawled across the metal in bright red. Below it a fabric doll hung from the slats held in place with a knife. The doll reminded me of a voodoo doll. It was a male with dark hair and eyes. Probably just a coincidence, but it hit too close to home. My heart arrested, my hands quivering at my sides. I couldn’t even bring myself to walk up to the locker, to touch the doll, to wipe off the spray paint, or at the very least get my books out.

Instead, I whirled around and raced down the hall. Tears blurring my vision, I ran with my head down.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Jackson’s voice stopped me.

When I glanced up at him, his face dropped. “What happened?” He reached for me, his hands framing my face.

I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t speak. My lips trembled, the words caught in my throat. So I turned around and pointed. When his gaze connected with my locker, his expression hardened. The darkness in his eyes made my blood run cold.

“Who did that?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, even though I did. It had to have been Big Boobs or possibly Zach. That guy’s an asshole.

He withdrew his hands from my face and snatched up my hand. “It’s all right,” he spoke gently to me, but flames still danced in his irises. A fire had been lit, and it wasn’t going out until he got revenge. I knew that feeling, and it gave me a sick sense of satisfaction.

Other kids in the hallway had noticed my locker. When they saw Jackson and me walking toward it, they parted like the Red Sea. With his hand firmly tucked in mine, he stalked over to my locker and ripped the doll off.

Then he held it up, his gaze scouring the halls. “Who did this?”

No one responded. A few kids shook their heads, others looked at the ground, while others high tailed it in the other direction. I didn’t blame them. Jackson looked terrifying in this moment. But to me he never looked better.

“When I find out who did this, you’re gonna pay. Understand?” His voice boomed around the hallway.

I held my head high, still holding tightly to Jackson’s hand. When the hallway started clearing out, he dropped the doll in the nearest trash bin and then swept me into his arms.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again, okay?”

I nodded against his shoulder.

“I’ll get this cleaned up. Don’t worry about it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted blond hair, large boobs. She was staring at Jackson and me from across the hall wearing a scowl. Before I could point her out to Jackson, she quickly hurried off, disappearing from sight.

There were no more incidents the rest of the day, but when I got home I still couldn’t shake the uneasiness I felt. All I wanted was a new start. Why couldn’t I get that? Jackson had some commitment with his sister, so he couldn’t come over. It killed me to walk into an empty house after the day I’d had. It also was the perfect breeding ground for my anxiety to crop up. That’s how my mind worked. I’d always had an active imagination, but when I was alone it came alive. My mind whirred and spun until I drove myself nuts. That’s what was happening this afternoon.

And that’s why I decided to try to get into the gun safe.

Not to hurt myself, but because I was scared. I felt like I might need it at some point for protection. I mean, that was why he had it, right? And I was the one always home alone. So shouldn’t I know how to access it?

I crept into my parents’ room and dropped to my knees on the carpet in front of the safe. Then I tried a few combinations. My mom’s birthday, dad’s birthday, my birthday. No luck. Sitting back on my butt, I bit my lip and thought. What was important to Dad? That’s when it hit me. I leaned forward and used the date that Dad graduated from medical school. It was the same date he’d used for many passwords over the years. I felt a little smug when it worked. Dad should’ve picked a better combination if he didn’t want me to be able to get into it.

I opened the safe and dipped my hand inside, my fingers closing around the gun. The metal was cool on my skin as I dragged it out. When I lifted it up, the dim lighting in the room glinted off of it. Holding it in my palm, it was heavier than I had imagined it would be.

A chill ran through me as I studied it. Weird that such a small object had the power to end a life, huh? It felt exhilarating to have that much power in my hands. And that scared me.

“What are you doing?”

I jumped at the sound of Jackson’s voice. Where did he come from? Slowly I pivoted my head to look at him. He stood in the doorway wearing jeans and a grey hooded sweatshirt, a ball cap on his head. Bentley used to wear hats. I hated them now. There was a light dusting of water on his cap and the shoulders of his sweatshirt. I glanced at the window and saw a sheet of rain descending from the sky. I hadn’t even noticed it was raining.

Jackson’s gaze fixated on the gun in my hand, his lips curving downward. “Piper?”

“Oh.” I came out of my stunned stupor. “I was just…” What was I doing? How could I explain this? I was just paranoid and wanted to make sure I had access to a weapon in case I needed it? Then when I held it I enjoyed the feeling of it in my hand? Uh, yeah, that sounded completely normal. I was sure if I said that Jackson would run to the nearest door and never look back. “It’s my dad’s.” Hey, it was the only thing I could think of to say. “How’d you get in here?”

Jackson stepped into the room, concern etched on his features. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer. The door was unlocked, so I came in.” He narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you hear me calling your name?”

I shook my head. God, how out of it was I? I guess I had been focused, and it’s not like I had been listening for him. “I thought you were busy with Courtney this afternoon.”

“I was. We finished early. Besides, I was worried about you.” With deliberate movements Jackson lowered on to the ground beside me, reaching for the gun in my hands. Then he plucked it up into his thick fingers. “Let’s put the gun away, okay?” He used a soothing tone.

I nodded as he slid it back into the safe and closed the door.

“Piper, are you all right?” He turned to me.

I nodded again.

His arms came around me, drawing me close. I slumped against him, my fingers finding the edge of his collar and fisting it.

“I think it’s time to tell me the whole story,” Jackson said.

I knew he was right. The problem was, I didn’t know if I could. I’d been keeping it inside for so long that I didn’t even know how to formulate the words.