Tortured Sinner by Tessa James
Claire - 1
Inever imagined the week leading to my freshman year of college would be spent shoving what minimal belongings I could into boxes to be shipped to my new home on the other side of the country. But here I am, doing exactly that. The plan was always to go to Turner University and live where I have my entire life: on the East Coast, at home with my dad.
I sigh and shove a book into the cardboard container.
Dad speaks up from his spot against the doorframe of my bedroom. “Those go in that one.” He points across my messy space. “Here. Give it to me.” He takes it from my hand and examines it. “H.P. Lovecraft? Haven’t you read this a million times?”
I shrug. “It’s my comfort item, don’t judge me.” Some girls have stuffed animals or blankets, but I have stories that weave their way into my soul and hold on tight.
“Fair enough.” Dad tosses it in with the others and turns to face me. “Listen, kiddo. We don’t have to go through with this. It’s not too late to back out.”
Biting my lip, I pull myself together and look him straight in his deep blue eyes. “Dad, you’ve been waiting on an opportunity like this your entire career. You’re not going to blow it off because of me. I won’t allow that. I’ll be fine. Really.”
Part of me would be lying if I said I wasn’t upset about the massive change in my future, but it would be incredibly selfish of me to make my dad miss out on the professional opportunity of a lifetime because I couldn’t accept the new cards I’ve been dealt. Especially when he’s already given up so much to raise me by himself. It’s time for him to spread his wings and do something for himself for a change. And although it sucks to have things change, I fully support him following through with this dream.
Sure, moving to the other side of the country, where I have zero friends and have never actually visited, is a bit of a challenge. But that’s not the most difficult part to swallow—it’s the having to move into my mom’s condo and her offering to help with the tuition for my first year of school.
To an outsider, this comes across like a totally normal thing. But, when your mother abandons you as a toddler to relocate thousands of miles away to become a flight attendant, and then proceeds to have nothing to do with you your entire life, you’re not exactly jumping for joy when she volunteers to play the role of “parent.”
A massive bright side is that her schedule is pretty much nonstop, so I probably won’t have to actually interact with her much. Living in her house is one thing, but having to stomach awkward small talk and pretend to not hate her guts to her face is another.
If anything, this will be like a year-long vacation where I can soak up some sun and work my ass off to get the scholarship I want. The one that will allow me to return to my hometown and finish out the rest of my higher education in the place where I intended.
“I’m going to run down to Charlie’s and pick up our pizza. You want me to grab you a milkshake?” Dad fumbles around in his pockets until he finds what he was looking for.
“Sure. Thanks, Dad.” I scan the room, locating my backpack. I put my laptop inside and neatly wrap up a cell phone charger to go in the front compartment.
The steady thump of his footsteps trail down the steps and out of the house. It’s not long before the door opens again. Only it can’t be him, unless he forgot something.
“Claire,” a voice calls out. “You up there?” Footsteps pound up the stairs and into my room.
I take a breath to steady my pounding heartbeat, the reaction I always have with Griffin, my boyfriend. You never know which version of him you’ll get. I’m constantly crossing my fingers that it’s the sweet and romantic one. Most of the time, especially lately, I’m wrong.
It wasn’t always this way. In the beginning, Griffin was good to me. He was kind and thoughtful and even made me laugh. Over time, though, the niceness faded and now…now I can’t wrap my head around how I got to be so stuck. I’ve clung to the idea that the good Griff would come back, that I was just dealing with a temporary version of him. And in a way, he does return. I see it in waves. Blips of good moments with him. But they’re fleeting, and becoming fewer and further between. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out hope that it will ever stick.
“Hey, babe.” Griffin comes closer, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the ground. He drags me in for a hug and leans in to kiss my cheek.
Immediately, I sense the shift in his mood.
“What? No warm greeting for your man? Isn’t your flight in a few hours? This is how you want to say goodbye?” He runs his palms down my shoulders and onto my forearms, gripping them tightly.
Too tightly.
“Griff, stop. You know I’m just stressed out.” I try to pull my arms away, but he doesn’t let go. I glance up at his stone-cold gaze, his ashy blond hair cascading down his forehead. “You’re hurting me.” I tug again with no success. “Seriously, cut it out.” Tears well in my eyes at the force of his fingers pressing into my skin.
“Come here,” he says through his clenched jaw, jerking me against his body.
The front door slams shut and with it, Griffin seems to snap out of his trance. If it weren’t for the intrusion, I’m not sure he would have let go. That thought alone sends a chill down my spine.
“Let’s eat.” A wicked smile snakes itself onto his face that I once thought was beautiful.
I swallow down the familiar anxiety that comes with his presence.
It’s not that I want to stay with him, to continue being this person he torments, but I’m also not stupid enough to think that breaking up with him will be an easy feat.
I’m hopeful that with a couple thousand miles between us, I’ll find the courage to finally rip his claws out of me. I’m a silver-lining kind of girl, and maybe this will be the chance I need to get him out of my life for good.
Griffin snatches a light-gray sweatshirt off the chair by my desk and extends it toward me. “You look cold.”
I blink at him in confusion but take it anyway. It’s not until my arm is stretched out to grab it that I see the finger marks already appearing on my skin. Sure enough, that’s going to bruise.
I pull the thing over my head and tug the sleeves down to my wrists. I glance in the mirror and free my long, mud-colored hair, only to secure it in a low ponytail.
Griffin raises his hand near my face, and I instinctually flinch.
He’s never outright hit me, but I wouldn’t put it past him. Not anymore.
He loops his finger under the scrunchie and yanks it out. “I like it better down.”
* * *
Istep off the plane and immediately take in the drastically warmer air. It’s different than back home, much drier than that of the humid East Coast. I’ve never really been a fan of colder weather, so skipping a snowy winter is another perk of being out west.
In reality, this whole experience wouldn’t be terrible if I had a semi-normal relationship with my mother and visited enough to be comfortable with the area. Being thrown into this on such short notice has been a shock to my system.
Life is full of the unexpected though, and if I intend on doing this whole adult thing, I have to be resilient.
I turn my phone off airplane mode and order myself a ride to my mom’s place. Of course, she couldn’t be bothered to rearrange her work schedule to welcome her estranged daughter to her home.
Countless texts pop across my screen, but I swipe them away to finish my task. They’re all from Griffin anyway. Usually, I wouldn’t dare ignore them, but the thousands of miles between us gives me a newfound courage that I am definitely embracing.
I lug my bags across the airport, my long-sleeved shirt making me stick out among all the shorts and tank tops most of the people are wearing. I stand patiently with the rest of the arrivals waiting for their rescue from this overly crowded area. Everyone seems antsy and ready to get the hell out of here. Me on the other hand, I’m equal parts excited and anxious for this next chapter of my life.
Once I’m tucked inside my transportation, I thumb the notification screen down, scanning through the messages from Griffin and clicking on the one from Rosie.
Rosie: You landed!! I’m totally a stalker BFF. I’ve been tracking your flight!
Me: Haha, yeah. I made it. Heading to Beth’s house now.
The three little dots appear immediately.
My driver clears her throat and makes eye contact with me in the rearview mirror.
“You just visiting, sweetheart?” Her voice is scratchy but otherwise comforting.
I nod. “Yeah… Well, sort of. I'm hoping it's short-term.”
She raises an eyebrow as if questioning my answer and then switches lanes.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
Rosie: She’s not there though, right?
I quickly type a reply.
Me: Nope, she’s gone for another week, I think.
I return my attention to the real-life woman in the front seat. “It’s sort of a long story.”
She points toward the GPS device attached to the dash. “We’ve got time.”
I smile and settle back into my seat. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“So, it’s one of those situations… I see.” She merges the car onto the highway. “Well, unless you’re one of those overpackers, your luggage is telling me you’ll be here more than a weekend.”
“More like a year.” I pause and then add, “At best.” I scan the dash to locate her name badge.
Greta mumbles an acknowledgment of my declaration.
I continue, making my own taxicab confession. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was going to go to college back home. But my dad got this amazing job opportunity. He’s a journalist. A damn good one. And his company offered to send him to Africa for two years to live with locals and do this crazy in-depth report. He wasn't going to accept it—that’s how he is. Self-sacrificing to a fault. But I couldn't let him pass on an experience like that because of me. Not when he's given up so much already." I take a breath and watch the cars whipping by us.
“Do I want to ask about your mother?” Greta glances at me, giving off the vibe that she’s aware of that topic's rocky terrain.
I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s why I’m here. She’s been absent my entire life. By her own choice. But when my dad had told her about the situation, she volunteered to cover my living expenses, and her job has some deal with the local university for tuition reimbursement. I won’t have many out-of-pocket expenses, and considering I never wanted college to be this thing that sent me into a huge debt right out the gate, it would have been foolish to turn it down. I verified all my credits will transfer completely, so it’s not a terrible compromise. But I’m not thrilled to spend a year pretending things are peachy.”
“Nobody said you had to.” Greta shrugs. “You don’t owe anyone anything they don’t deserve. I’m not telling you to be mean to this woman, but letting her off easily, given what you’ve just shared, doesn’t seem appropriate either.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s weird, ya know? I’ve only seen this woman in photos. I mean, she’s my mother, for Christ’s sake. And here I am, at the age of eighteen, going to live in her house.”
My cell buzzes, and I ignore it.
“Maybe treat her like a roommate. Considering that’s kind of what she is. Be courteous and all that, but also have your boundaries.” Greta looks back at me briefly. “That’s my advice. You can take it or leave it. I’m just a random old lady. I only wish that someone would have told me at an earlier age that it’s okay to not always let people get what they want. It would have saved me a lot of heartbreak. You matter, too. Don’t forget that.”
I let her words sink in. It’s not that I didn’t already know these things, but I’ve never actually had someone confront me this way. I’m usually the people-pleaser who compartmentalizes my own feelings to serve others. Things are easier that way, at least for everyone else.
“You can get that, if you want.” Greta holds her thumb and pinky fingers up to the side of her head to signal a phone.
My gaze falls onto the glowing screen. Two texts from Rosie and seven missed calls from Griffin.
Shit.
I steady myself and click on the photo of Griff. It barely gets through one ring when he answers.
“Claire, what the fuck? Why haven’t you been answering me? You’ve had me worried. Your location shows you almost to your mom’s house.” His tone is harsh and callous.
One of the requirements to being with Griffin, him knowing my every move. At first, he played it off like he was simply worried about me and wanted to make sure I was okay, but over time, I realized it was one of the ways to keep his thumb on me.
“Sorry, Griff. My phone died. I had to charge it in the Uber. It just came back on.” I lie my ass off and hope he believes it.
Greta doesn’t bother correcting me, nor does she bat an eye at my false story.
“Right. And you expect me to buy that? The messages show delivered. The calls were ringing through. If it was dead, it would have gone straight to voicemail.” Griffin exhales dramatically. “This is already going south, and you’ve been there a whopping five minutes. You’re going to have to try harder, Claire.”
I swallow and grit my teeth, unable to form a proper response.
Griffin doesn’t bother to wait. “I have to go. The guys are here.”
“Where are you going?” Not that I entirely care, but shifting the focus away from me and my many failures is a bonus I’ll gladly take.
“Out,” is all he says.
“Oh.” The word barely leaves my mouth, and the line disconnects.
Cool, he hung up on me.
Greta breaks through the awkward silence. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah.” I shove my phone into the side of my backpack and focus on the landscape around us.
We’re in a city now and driving much slower than we were. We pass buildings of various sizes and shapes. Trees are randomly placed along the sidewalks to bring some natural color to this land of concrete.
Greta puts on her turn signal and brings the car to a slow crawl, parking in front of a gated structure.
I recall the passcode that was given to me to get into the complex. Six–two–one–three. I had to repeat it in my head for days on end to get it to stick. It’s not that I have a terrible memory, but there was no easy way to get that sequence to remain unless I said it over and over and over again.
Greta opens her door and steps out.
I grab my stuff from the back seat and follow suit, meeting her at the now-open trunk. Once I have all my luggage, I pause, not quite ready to say goodbye to this wise woman. I never would have expected I'd get attached to someone quite so easily. Greta feels like a gift from the universe, my own real-life guardian angel.
She puts her hand on my shoulder. “You got this, kid.”
I force a smile.
"My next statement is the most cliché thing ever, but…do what makes you happy. I'm serious. Life is too short to let people walk all over you." Greta closes the hatch and makes her way to the driver's side. "I believe in you."
And somehow, despite the words coming from a complete stranger, they spark something alive in me that had been dormant my entire existence.
It’s not at all strange when I find myself wrapping my arms around this woman I only just met, hugging her in hopes that she understands how much our short time together means to me.
“Thank you,” I tell her, the significance of my words deeper than she might know.
I sling my backpack over my shoulder, grab the handles of my bags, and head straight to the keypad. I punch in the numbers and the gate unlocks. It takes me a second to get the door open and maneuver my bags through, but I manage to make it work.
I’m adjusting my belongings and turning toward the courtyard when a body slams into mine. The strap slides down my arm, and I lose my backpack. My cell goes flying out of the pocket and lands face down on the paver stones.
I make the briefest eye contact with my target. Dark green with full eyelashes. A black T-shirt hugging his broad shoulders. He's kind of tall, I think. From this angle, it's hard to tell.
“Fuck,” he says and keeps on going.
He doesn’t bother to say sorry. He doesn’t stop and help pick up my stuff. He simply keeps going on his merry way, not giving a damn that he just ran into me. Not a care in the world other than himself and whatever he’s in a rush to get to.
Great, the first person I meet my age is a complete asshole. This better not set the stage for how the next year is going to go.
At least with my brand-new outlook on life, I know with certainty that he’s the type of guy I need to ignore.