Stepbrother Bastard (21 page)

“
I
don
’
t
know,
”
I cry out, leaping to my
feet,
“
All
I know is
…
That I need a second, here. I need to
think. I need
…
I need to get out of this place.
”

“
You
want to leave? Just like that?
”
Cash asks, taken aback,
“
Maddie
—”

“
I
can
’
t
stay,
”
I tell him, pacing the
dew-soaked grass,
“
What just happened with
me and my mom, everything she said
…
And
your dad, Christ
—
I don
’
t
even know if I feel safe around him. I can
’
t
think about something as important and you and me with all this shit going on
—”

“
If
you leave now,
”
Cash
says, catching me by the arms,
“
How do I know I
’
ll
ever see you again?
”

“
You
don
’
t,
”
I whisper, keeping my
eyes trained on his,
“
I can
’
t
give you any certainty, Cash. I can
’
t
leave you with anything but your own faith in us. I
’
m
…
I
’
m
so sorry.
”

He
stares at me for a long, hard moment, searching deep into my soul for an
answer, an explanation
…
but there
’
s
none to be found. I have no idea what
’
s
going to happen next; to me, to him, to our families. But I
’
m
certain that I have to go. Right now. I
’
m
drowning, here. I can
’
t clear my head until I
’
m
back on dry land, back in my real life that I
’
ve
built in Seattle. The life that doesn
’
t
include Cash Hawthorne.

His
eyes harden as he realizes that there
’
s
nothing he can do. He lets his hands drop from my arms, takes a step away from
me. The first step of many that will carry us both back to the lives we know.
The ache in my core as this new, irresolvable distance springs up between us is
wrenching, nearly intolerable. I can only hope that each step gets a little
easier
…
whether
they lead us back to each other or not.

“
Fine,
”
he rasps, rubbing his
sharp jaw.
“
Do what you
’
re
going to do, Porter. Just don
’
t expect me to show up
begging at your doorstep. I
’
m not the type to get
down on my knees.
”

And
with that, he turns away from me. He strides across the wide lawn with cold
purpose, ripping open the driver
’
s
side door of the pickup. The engine roars to life as blinding headlights tear
through the gathering twilight. Without a parting glance, Cash peels out of the
driveway, tearing off at top speed. As the sound of the racing truck fades
away, nature
’
s nighttime orchestra swells to fill
the silence.

A hollow chasm tears open inside of me as I go to collect my
things…I have a feeling that nothing will ever fill that space again.

Chapter Ten

No
one even tries to stop me as I take my hasty leave from the lake house. My mom,
John, the Hawthorne boys, and even my sisters have all scattered for the night.
Everyone is busy licking their wounds behind closed doors. But hey
—
that
’
s
always how we
’
ve done things in the Porter house.
Every woman for herself. Maybe we have more in common with the Hawthornes than
I thought.

By
rights, I should be a wreck right now; sobbing, screaming, and tearing out my
hair. But as I haul my suitcase back to my car and settle in behind the wheel,
I just feel
…
nothing. Nothing but an indifferent
numbness. As I pull away from the Hawthorne house, I have the fleeting hope
that Cash might intercept me on the way out. Maybe he
’
ll
have come up with some brilliant solution to our quandary. Maybe he
’
ll
block my way, refuse to let me go. Maybe he
’
ll
just hold me
—
nothing could seem hopeless with his
arms around me.

But
of course, Cash doesn
’
t miraculously appear as
I flee from the lake house, cutting our time here together in half. I set off
to retrace my route home unimpeded. The man I
’
ve
fallen for this week isn
’
t a mirage, after all. He
’
s
not an ideal, unattainable fantasy. He
’
s
a person. A real, complicated, deeply flawed person who I desperately wish
could be a part of my life.

Here
’
s
hoping I didn
’
t just ruin the chances of making
that wish come true.

I
drive until my eyes are bleary with sleeplessness. As I hit the halfway point
in my journey and cross the state line, a familiar neon sign catches my eye.
“
Drink
Here,
”
it commands from the side
of the road. I let my lips open as a laugh rises in my throat
—
but
the sound comes out as a ragged sob instead. As I speed past the bar where I
first laid eyes on Cash, the place where we spent our first night together, my
numbness finally gives way to sharp, slicing pain.

And
here I thought I was going to get away with a little case of the blues.

I
blow past the now-familiar motel, unwilling to take my foot off the gas. I
couldn
’
t
bear to revisit the place where I first laid eyes on Cash. The room where we
spent our first night together. It
’
s
stupid to keep driving in this state
—
reckless,
even. But at this point, I
’
m racing my despair home.
If I can just make it through the next eight hours, I can fall to pieces in the
familiar mouse hole that is my lonely apartment. The comfort of privacy is all
I can hope for now.

It
’
s
early Sunday morning before I ease open the front door of my Seattle studio
once again. My body aches from my desperate flight as I wrangle my suitcase
through the door. Everything is just as I left it a week ago, down to the empty
bottle of wine on the counter. But the normalcy of this place doesn
’
t
stabilize me the way I thought it would. It
’
s
all the more disorienting, stepping back into the flow of my real life. Going
from the whirlwind, breathtaking, full-throttle spree of this past week to the
mind-numbingly normal is giving me serious emotional whiplash. For lack of a
better idea, I leave my suitcase by the door and sprawl out on my narrow bed. I
can
’
t
muster the will to do much else.

The
second I hear my phone chirp, however, a bolt of energy lights me up from the
inside. I spring across the room, praying that Cash has sent some word, any
word at all. But my hope dashes itself on the rocks as I look down at the
screen and see Sophie
’
s name.

Sophie:
Where are you?

Swallowing
a sigh, I tap out a short reply.

Me:
Home. I needed to leave early.

Sophie:
Are you OK?

Me:
Not really. Are you?

Sophie:
Pretty far from it. I
’
m bailing early too. Heading back to school.

Me:
And Anna?

Sophie:
Heading back home on her own. Mom meant what she said about staying.

Me:
Talk about going our separate ways.

Sophie:
Yeah.

I
can
’
t
think of what else to tell my little sister. I almost wish I could confide in
her about what
’
s been going on with Cash. But doing
that would mean telling her how I
’
ve
been considering all but cutting myself out of the family for his sake. Our
relationship is strained enough as it is. I don
’
t
want it to snap because of a badly timed text. But before I can work out a
reply, Sophie goes on.

Sophie:
I
’
m sorry we didn
’
t get to say
goodbye. Or talk about everything that came up with Mom. I didn
’
t know you were
having such a hard time out there, Maddie. Just know that I
’
m here for you,
OK?

I
smile sadly in my empty apartment. Despite her hard edge, Sophie
’
s
always had a secret soft spot for me and Anna. The three of us are like war
buddies, in a way
—
having gone through the
trauma of our father
’
s death and our mother
’
s
collapse together. Even though our battles are distinct, now that we
’
re
adults, we
’
ll always be rooting for each other
from our respective fronts.

Me:
Thanks, Soph. We
’
ll make it through this somehow, I know it. I love you.

Sophie:
I love you too. Take care of yourself.

The
only way I know how to take care of myself at a time like this is with a good,
long session of girl talk, some trashy takeout, and a bottle of something
fermented. And I think I know how I can get a hold of all three.

I
pull up Allie
’
s number from my contacts and wait
for the healing to commence.

It
’
s
only by the grace of Allie that I make it through my first day without Cash.
She races over to my apartment the second I tell her I
’
m
home early, and that I need her. It
’
s
only when she arrives that I truly let myself fall to pieces. She
’
s
my best friend in the world, the only person who was there for me when I nearly
dropped out of school, after my dad died. As I let loose the torrent of my
conflicted pain, she doesn
’
t even ask for details. I
’
ll
tell her what I can, in time. But for now, I just need a friend.

The
coming week looms before me, daunting for its emptiness. I still have a week of
vacation time left. My bosses aren
’
t
expecting me back until the following Monday. That means I have nothing to do
for the next seven days but wallow in my own self-pity and loneliness
…
And
that
’
s
just not something I can bear.

As
hard as it is, I try to keep myself busy. I drive out to my favorite hiking
spots outside the city, walking all day to drive thoughts of Cash from my mind.
I tear through all my favorite books, willing them to sweep me away to worlds
far away from my own. But some part of me always stays anchored in thinking of
him
—
wondering
if he
’
s
called, hoping that he hasn
’
t written me off, and
wishing that he
’
d
show up under my window with a goddamn boom box like in the movies.

But
as the days wear on, there
’
s no sign of Cash
Hawthorne. No calls, no texts, no sudden appearances. He wasn
’
t
kidding about the ball being in my court, now. If only I knew what my next play
might be.

* * *

“
Hey
there, Mads! Long time no see.
”

I
glance up from my office laptop with a tight smile for my boss, Brian (i.e. Mr.
Intriguing). It
’
s my first day back at
ReImaged, but my brain still feels a million miles away. The only activity I
’
ve
managed to do this morning is run endlessly through all the reasons I shouldn
’
t
care that I still haven
’
t heard from Cash. It
’
s
been more than a week since we parted ways, and I
’
ve
yet to hear a word. I keep telling myself that I
’
ve
moved from despair to begrudging acceptance of our separation
…
Maybe if I think it
enough times, it
’
ll somehow become true.

“
Hope
you
’
re
feeling nice and rested after your trip,
”
Brian goes on, rapping on
my desk with his knuckles. He
’
s in his mid-thirties,
tall and lanky with an eager smile and a Silicon Valley bro
’
s
wardrobe. Brian
’
s the good cop to his
business partner Carol
’
s bad cop, but I
’
m
having a little trouble matching his enthusiasm this morning.

“
Oh
yeah. Montana was very relaxing,
”
I tell him.

“
Hmm.
Montana,
”
Brian says, nodding his
head,
“
I
never consider vacationing there. Very intriguing
…”

Across
the room, Allie glances up from her computer and cocks an eyebrow at me. I
actually feel like smiling as Brian utters his buzzword for the first of many
times today. Maybe this whole assimilating back into my real life thing won
’
t
be so impossible after all.

“
Team
meeting in five,
”
says a no-nonsense voice from the doorway
to the conference room. I look up to see Carol there, her eyes glued to her
smart phone, as ever.

“
Great,
”
Brian smiles,
“
Allie,
Maddie, we
’
re gonna need 100% from both of you
for this next campaign, so get ready to dive in.
”

“
Oh.
Maddie. You
’
re back,
”
Carol says, glancing up
at me for half a second.

“
Yep,
”
I reply,
“
I
just got back from
—”

But
she disappears from view without another word, completely blowing me off. A few
years ago, I
’
d be miffed. But I
’
ve
gotten pretty used to Carol
’
s complete lack of people
skills since I started working here. There
’
s
a reason Allie and I have the client-facing jobs at this business. You know
—
the
jobs that actually require speaking with real humans. 

As
I start gathering my things for the meeting, I sneak another look at my cell
phone. Still no messages from Cash
—
just
an endless stream of passive aggressive texts from my mother. As per usual.
Allie
’
s
hand closes around my wrist as I stare wistfully at the screen, and I look up
bashfully at my redheaded partner in crime.

“
Why
don
’
t
you just text him first?
”
she asks me,
“
It
’
s
been a whole week, for Christ
’
s sake. You have a right
to know where you stand with him, Maddie.
”