Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez
Chapter Twelve
Jasmine
After we discuss our project, a comfortable, yet tense, silence surrounds us. Comfortable, because he’s like coming home, a piece of my past that’ll always run alongside memories of my brother and best friend, of another life. Tense because a million questions are running through my mind, questions I’ve wanted to ask for so long. Why did you join a gang? Why didn’t you ever come to see me in the hospital, or after? Why did you forget about me?
I ask none of them.
Instead, we visit about safe topics, like how I want to take surfing lessons when we get to Hawaii. He asked about homeschooling and early graduation. Our topics remained casual, both of us somehow sensing now wasn’t the time to dive deep. I’m just grateful he let me stay a little longer to finish working out the jitterbugs from earlier.
A deep sigh leaves me. “I think I’m ready to get going. Thanks again for helping me out earlier, and for being cool about the project. I really appreciate it.”
When I move to stand, Alex is already there, blocking me, having shifted closer without my notice. His knees touch mine as he reaches over and tucks a raven strand behind my ear. “Anything for you, corazón.” My entire being comes alive with the contact as his fingers curl around my jaw, keeping our gazes locked, and stuttering my heart. He breaks our trance when he stands. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
“You don’t have to walk me out.” I protest, but hope to hell he will. Going outside again is like voluntarily facing the firing squad. Scary as fuck.
The look Alex gives me in return says I’m crazy as his hand slides precariously close to the top of my ass to guide me to the door.
As we exit, he wraps his hand possessively around my hip, pulling me closer as he glares at the surrounding houses. Figuring it’s safe for now, I venture a peek. Several people are lingering, but none of them meets his eyes. Everyone seems to know that an infraction has occurred. I wonder if they think I’m a lady friend of his. The thought doesn’t disgust me… in fact; it warms my blood.
Once we reach my car, Alex opens the door, and then boxes me in. “Tomorrow; after school?”
“Yes.” I practically sigh. His body heat is radiating, engulfing me, and charging straight for the southern wetlands.
“Give me your phone.” He orders, and without question, I hand it over. “There.” He hands it back, leaning in. His lips brush against my cheek, his breath tickling as he whispers in my ear, “Next time, call me before you decide to come for a visit, and I’ll come get you.”
The motion of my nod drags his lips against my sensitive skin, causing goosebumps to skitter across my arms.
“Good, girl.” His hand snakes into my hair and tightens, bringing my eyes back to his. “Make sure that you go straight home.”
I nod again, the best I can with his restraining grip.
“Promise me, corazón. I need your words.”
“I promise.”
His eyes trace mine, searching for any deception, but I have none to offer. My resolve is utterly and truly shattered after one evening in Alex’s presence.
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He backs up, removing all his warmth as he gives me room to get in the car. When I’m buckled in, he leans down once more, “Drive safe.” He closes my door softly and taps the hood, signaling for me to go.
A shy smile and wave is my parting gift as I drive back to the wealthier side of town with a stupid smile plastered to my face, hinting that I rather enjoyed my time with Alex, even if it started horribly.
As I watch the lower-class neighborhoods pass by, I wonder what it’d be like to live there. Everyone’s yards hold a bit of personality and most look like they take pride in their homes, while the wealthier yards are all the same manicured lawns, bushes, and shrubs, lining every sidewalk and house. A part of me wishes I’d left with the Navarro’s.
Twenty minutes later, I pull into my driveway, and the four two-story white pillars at the front of our house greet me as I park the car in the garage. I’m returning home later than normal, but still hope to catch my dad before he goes down for the evening.
Once inside, I head straight for his room, ecstatic to find him still awake, and his nurse putting his nightly meds into his IV.
“Hey, Daddy!”
His eyes light up when he sees me. He puts on his strongest smile and blinks once.
“I was hoping you would still be awake. How was your day?”
He blinks once again.
“To tired to talk to me, huh?”
He blinks once.
“Well then, let me do all the talking.” The smile on my face grows, happy that for once I’m not drowning in a cesspool of despair, and by my dad’s wide-eyed reaction, he sees it too.
“School was all right. I can graduate early, which is going to be awesome! My teachers are nice and supportive of the idea, so I think I can do it.” His expression flairs with excitement, which is why I pause for a second before spilling the next bit of info. “My lab partner in biology is Alex Navarro. We have a project together; it’s due a few days after we get back from the senior trip. What do you think about me talking to him, Dad?” I’m concerned that it’ll upset him, but before he can confirm, I turn away and continue talking. “I know Mom doesn’t want me anywhere near him, or his mom, but… I don’t know. I just can’t see how they should be blamed for any of it. They’re living through the same nightmare we are, and—”
“Jaaazzzz.” His voice is stronger than I’ve heard in a long time.
He achieves his goal of getting my attention when my eyes shoot to his, absorbing his silent pleas as he gives me one long, solid blink.
I wait for the second blink that never comes. When he only stares confidently back at me, I ask. “Are you sure?” My voice thick and uneven. Relief sweeps through me—I can talk to him without feeling guilty.
My father blinks again.
“Sorry to interrupt,” the nurse says, “but his nightly meds are kicking in and I’m not sure how much longer he’ll be able to talk with you.”
“Thank you, Jenna.” She’s been my father’s nurse for the last nine months. We’d gone through six before we found her. I don’t know what we’d do without her.
“Well, it looks like I should leave you to it.”
My dad blinks twice rapidly, his stubbornness causing a laugh to burst free.
“Now who’s the stubborn one? It used to be Jace and me who wouldn’t go to bed on time.” The smile on my face dissolves, realizing Jace’s name has passed my lips for the first time since his passing, but then remembering when we used to hide in each other’s blankets to stay awake all night draws the smile back up. The shining mirrors to my dad’s soul are weeping, understanding this profound moment.
I wipe away his tears before they can fall. “None of that now. They’re happy times to remember. I love you, Dad.”
He blinks one long blink, longer than normal, signaling his meds are kicking in for the night. I slide off his mattress after kissing his forehead and walk out the door, closing it quietly behind me. Then head to the kitchen to see if there’s something to munch on. When I round the corner, I walk right into a clawed hand, nails as sharp as talons.
My mom grabs my wrist—the bad one—and tosses me to the ground with surprising force. A reverberating slap sounds as my hands hit the floor, blocking my face from impact. Pain shoots up my arm, like splinters shoved under the skin, consuming my left side. I collapse instantly, cradling my wrist against my body as my mom saunters over.
“I told you to stay away from him!” She yell-slurs.
“You were listening to my conversation?” I accuse.
“I’ll do as I please, you fucking cunt!”
She strikes out, snatching my hair and twisting her fingers tight. Using her grip as leverage, she pulls me through the kitchen toward the hall. Her glass of alcohol shatters against the marble floors when she throws it to the ground. The assault continues as she drags me through the broken glass, grinding the shards against my skin, not caring that the fragments are ripping clothes and slicing skin.
“Mom! Stop!” I scream. Fire licks along my burning skin from the cuts blending with the alcohol. “Mom! You’re hurting me!”
She lets go suddenly but blocks any escape, glaring at me as if I were a vile creature, and not her daughter. Any love she may have harbored is gone, and no one left to appease. No one to deflect her wrath. Jace can no longer interfere. Nothing Dad can do. Pretending is a moot point.
To prove she’s upping the ante, she strikes like a cobra—fast and hard—slapping me in the face and knocking me against the cupboards.
My fingers find their way to my stinging cheek as tears gather from the shock. She’s never hit me before, but as I watch her stand over me with shaky hands, I know she’ll do it again.
She staggers back a couple of drunken paces, regarding me with disbelief, surprising herself with her actions. There’s no remorse. No regret. Just a sense of smug satisfaction that she actually hit me.
Her hands swing around before her words catch up to her gestures. “Clean up this mess. I meant what I said; stay away from that boy.” I can hear the or else in her tone.
I scoot along the cupboards, creating distance between us, even as the sharp glass digs into my flesh. She sneers once more before walking away, leaving me to break and bleed on the floor.
I’m cut to hell, battered and bloody, and all because of my mom. My face drops into my hands to breathe and collect myself. I’ll never give that witch of a woman the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
After the floor is clean of blood and glass, I slowly head upstairs to take a bath. The water runs warm as I concentrate on the bathroom mirror, naked, pulling glass shards from my body as blood continues to drip down my skin. Such a stark contrast between my ivory complexion and the burgundy of blood. With each tug, a wince fractures my brows, the tweezers my worst enemy. My wrist is throbbing and swollen; enough to wear my brace for a few days.
Once I finish with the glass, I climb into the tub where the water stings my cuts as I slowly sink down. Once I’m fully under, I try to release any tension that’s bottled up, but it’s easier said than done. I was just attacked by my mom, and I was still in shock.
That one thought finally breaks the dam. Silent tears glide down my cheeks. My heart aching badly enough to let them fall free, refusing to swipe them away. I used to think my life couldn’t possibly get any worse, but boy was I wrong.
When the tears finally subside, I attempt to wash my hair with both arms, but even that task is hard with all of my injuries. I climb out of the tub to dry and check the mirror again. Spending an hour in the bathtub has given the bruises time to form. My wrist’s swollen, minor cuts cover my left side and arm, and there’s a lump on my head where she pulled my hair. To top it all off, I can see a handprint on the right side of my cheek.
“Never thought Mommy Dearest would go this far, did you, Jace?” I ask out loud, his glass pendant glittering in the light against my chest.
I slip my sleep tank and shorts on, grab my brace from the top drawer, and slip into bed. The soft sheets are cool from the evening breeze coming through my open window.
I can’t wait to get out of this house. The only dilemma is that it’s impossible for me to escape. How can I leave my dad in that woman’s hands? I’d be leaving him here to die alone. When my father passes away, my grandma will cut her off, so the longer my father is alive, the longer she can live in purple pill heaven.
Life is so unfair.