Stay With Me: Diamond In The Rough 3 Read online

  Michael’s voice broke through my thoughts. And I wanted him to shut the hell up.

  “Look, I know this time is different. But I want you to know I’m here for you. Me and Allison. You’re not alone, even if you might feel like it right now.”

  I sighed. “I appreciate it.”

  “And if you need anything at all, we’re only a phone call away. Anything. I mean that.”

  “Can you get Clint back for me?”

  He paused. “Well, anything but that.”

  I snickered and opened my eyes before a groan fell from my lips. Fucking D.J.’s bullshit, rundown car was sitting in the middle of the damn driveway. Just my luck. Just what I fucking needed after this hellish night. I shook my head as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I couldn't unlock the door, though. I couldn't bring myself to open it and get out.

  Michael cleared his throat. “You can always come back to my place, you know. Crash on our sofa. My parents wouldn't mind.”

  I nodded. “You lucked out with them, you know.”

  “I know. A lot of kids who are adopted end up in terrible situations. I came out lucky.”

  “Don’t ever take that for granted.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t. And I won’t. I promise.”

  “Thanks for driving me home.”

  “The offer still stands if you don’t want to be here.”

  “I know. I just want to be alone right now, though. I’m sure I can avoid them when I walk inside.”

  “Well, if you can’t, I’ll stay parked out here for a little bit. If you get to your window and wave me off, I’ll leave. If you don’t, I’ll assume you’re coming back out with your things.”

  I smiled softly. “Sounds like a plan.”

  I finally got my hand to move to the door handle. I shoved it open, then reached for my purse. I let myself out of his car, clutching my purse close to me. Trying to root myself in anything akin to reality. It felt like the world was spinning. Like I was floating up to the darkened heavens. None of this felt real. And yet, I knew it was real.

  This torture was real.

  The sirens grew, coating the neighborhood with their sounds as dogs began barking. Cats began meowing. The whole of the dirt of our side of the fence slowly woke up. People flicked on their lights. Others cursed at the animals to shut the hell up. I closed Michael’s car door and made my way to the porch, fishing my keys out of my purse.

  Please don’t be downstairs. Please don’t be downstairs. Please don’t be downstairs.

  I took one last peek back at Michael before shoving my key into the door. I unlocked it as silently as I could, then eased the door open. I didn't hear the television going. I didn’t see any lights on. And as I slipped inside, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  No one was downstairs.

  I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. Heavily. I wanted to sit down and cry. But, I couldn't. Our foyer was like a fucking acoustical stereo. If there was any part of the house that required my silence, it was here. I locked the door softly, wincing as the sound of the latch echoed off the damn corners of the walls. I paused, holding my breath. Waiting for the hallway light to click on before D.J. yelled down the damn stairs at me.

  But no sounds came.

  I tiptoed into the kitchen. I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. It took a couple minutes of rummaging around to find a decent-enough snack. But, after finding an unopened bag of chips, I headed up stairs. I skipped the ones I knew creaked. The ones I knew might wake my mother up. And as I made my way down the hallway, I heard soft panting. Soft groaning. Soft, murmured curses coming from my mother’s bedroom.

  For fuck’s sake.

  I rushed the rest of the way to my room. I closed my door silently and locked it. I reached for my headphones and slipped them over my head, plugging the port into my phone. I turned on some music to block out the sounds. I walked over to my bedroom window and waved down at Michael. He flashed his lights before backing out of the driveway, and I stood there. Watching him leave.

  With tears brewing behind my eyes again.

  I had to take my headphones off in order to shed my wet clothes. I piled them onto the floor, racing the steady sounds of my fucking mother in the room next to me. I stripped myself bare, shivering as I walked over to my dresser. And as I pulled out a long shirt, the sounds grew. Morphing and growing, as if I weren’t here.

  Then again, they didn’t know I was here.

  It made me sick to my stomach to listen to. Then again, I should’ve been used to it. I ripped the shirt down against my body before quickly putting my headphones on again. I fell onto my bed and reached for the chips. I eased them open, careful not to disturb the disgusting party going on next door to my room. I snuggled underneath the covers and cracked open my water, chugging it back as I grabbed my remote.

  I turned on my box television before immediately muting it.

  I listened to music and watched the silent images of Golden Girls flash by. Mom and I didn’t have cable. We each had cheap antennas on our televisions. But that was it. The nice one that D.J. purchased her was downstairs for movie nights. And the box television we’d had down there made it into my room as a ‘gift.’ I mean, don’t get me wrong. I was grateful for it. But, knowing this television had made its way into my room because of D.J. never did sit right with me. Almost made me feel dirty every time I used the damn thing.

  But I needed the distraction tonight.

  I munched on chips and sipped my water. I watched the images on the television aimlessly as one song poured into another. Rock anthems. Rap songs. A few random musical numbers I’d come to enjoy. I mindlessly ate until the entire bag was gone, even though I knew damn good and well I’d hear about it tomorrow. I rolled my eyes and licked at my fingers. I tossed the empty chip bag into the small trash can beside my bed. I finished my water and threw that away, too. Then, I took a chance and eased my headphones off my head.

  Only to be met with louder, more fervent sounds.

  I rolled my eyes and slipped them quickly back over my ears. I wiggled down into bed, turning off the television in the process. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out what the fuck to do next. I kept checking my phone. Every few minutes, I checked to see if Clint had called. Or texted. Hell, fucking emailed me or some shit like that. There was nothing, though. A text from Michael, telling me he’d gotten home safely. A text from Allison, asking me if I needed anything. Another text from Michael, asking me to respond so he knew I was still alive.

  So, I shot him a quick message back.

  Me: Alive and well. Uh, kind of. Avoided D.J. and Mom. About to pass out.

  Then my phone fell back to my chest.

  The songs fell into the background. The entire world kind of faded away, really. The ceiling darkened and the room spun around me. Almost as if the chips had made me drunk. I felt my eyes closing and my body sinking into the mattress. My head fell off to the side as my breathing evened out, but I didn’t quite feel asleep.

  Oh, no.

  Suddenly, I saw it. The bridge. The skid marks. I heard my own voice yelling for Michael to stop the car before I leapt out, rushed to the edge and peered over it. And as I gazed into the darkness below me, I called out his name.

  “Clint!”

  I tried jerking myself awake, moving, opening my eyes. But it was no use. I kept calling out his name while Michael pulled me away from the edge. And the more I fought against him, the angrier he got with me. I felt licks of fire kissing the back of my neck. I tore away from his grasp. And when I whipped around, I didn't see Michael behind me.

  Just a fiery being that looked like Michael.

  “You’re pathetic.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”

  “You want to go for him?”

  “You need to help me. He’s down there. His bike’s right over there!”

  “What bike, Raelynn? What bike do you see?”

  I whipped my head over to see th
e bike, but it wasn’t there. And neither were the skidmarks. The fire in front of me grew, engulfing Michael and swallowing the rest of him whole. I felt my body lock up. Fear coursed through my veins. And as a fiery tongue made its way for me, I leaned back.

  All the way over the railing.

  “It should’ve been you, Raelynn.”

  The tongue wrapped itself around my throat and hoisted me over the edge. I cried out for help. I cried out for Michael. Then I cried out for Clint. Tears slid down my cheeks. I tried wrapping my hands around the fiery tongue, trying to get a grip on it so it would let me go. So it would stop searing my skin. So it would stop torturing me.

  Then the tongue dropped me.

  And as the darkness swallowed me whole again, I finally jerked myself awake. Just as the sun started streaming through my window.

  Signaling the beginning of a new day.

  3

  Clinton

  I barely slept that night. Between the pain in my face and the hurt in my heart, sleep stayed away. I hated it. Every fucking second of it. The worrying. The turning in bed, over and over. I’d written more in my journal that night than ever before. Page after page of angry musings, random poems with Rae at the center, and a list.

  A half-done list of all my possibilities after I graduated.

  The list had more numbers than suggestions. It was depressing, really. Making a list, then putting two things on it. ‘Get a job’ and ‘move out.’ Those were the two things on my list.

  And I still had no idea how to actually accomplish those two things.

  The sun slowly rose and I eased myself out of bed. My entire body hurt. I shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the light, shielding my eyes. My head hurt. Still. My hips hurt. Still. My knee hurt and my knuckles were bruised and even I knew my ribcage was black and blue again.

  Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of myself in the mirror, though.

  “Holy fuck.”

  The bags underneath my eyes were fierce. The soft red marks around my throat reminded me of more things that happened last night. Things I hadn’t remembered until I looked at the marks on my body. The scratch marks. The bruises. The way that fucking thing on my face held my nose upright.

  “I can’t wear this shit to school.”

  I tried taking it off, but it felt like it was plastered to my nose. The bruises on my cheekbones made me angry. The light black and blue marks that peppered my ribcage made my blood boil. I turned my back to the image of myself and decided to suffer through a shower. I knew it would hurt, water battering against my abused body. But I stunk. I smelled of rain water, sweat, and hopelessness.

  And if the plan was to do research today, I needed my wits about me.

  I got into the shower and groaned all the way through it. Every droplet hurt. It felt like my body had gone into overdrive, like my nerve endings were exposed. I probably should’ve gone to the hospital. But I didn’t want to be in the same facility as my father.

  When the hell was he coming home anyway?

  I slipped out of the shower and dried myself off, pressing the towel softly against my skin as I walked into my bedroom. Everything felt muted. It almost felt like I wasn’t piloting my own body. Not really, anyway. I felt out of place. Out of time. Alert, but not really there.

  Until a knock came at my door.

  “Clint?”

  Cecilia’s voice caused me to pause. I quickly wrapped the towel around my waist before I reached for the door. I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath. Because I knew seeing me like this would throw her for a loop.

  Then I opened the door.

  She gasped. “Clint, you need a doctor.”

  I opened my eyes. “I’m fine.”

  “Your ribs. You—come with me. Come on. I’ll get you somewhere.”

  “Cecilia.”

  “Your nose doesn’t look much better, either. We need to schedule surgery.”

  “Cecilia.”

  “Come with me. You can skip school and—”

  I snipped at her, “Cecilia.”

  She paused. “Yes?”

  I sighed. “You shouldn’t be here when my father gets home from the hospital. Whenever that is. It won’t be safe for you. Not after you calling the paramedics and having him hauled off last night.”

  “I’m not concerned about that right now. I’m concerned about you. We need to go get you checked out. For all we know, your father’s knocked something loose or busted stitches somewhere we don’t know about.”

  “I’m fine. It’s all topical.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  I snickered. “If I were bleeding internally, I’d technically already be dead.”

  She stared at me and I took her in. Really, truly took her in. The color of her eyes that had slowly faded. The disheveled nature of her hair as she piled it at the crown of her head. The bags under her eyes were heavier than I’d ever seen them. And, without makeup, she looked ten years older. She had crows’ feet at the corners of her eyes. Her lips were downturned, causing her entire face to sag. Her shoulders were hunched. She favored her left side.

  I nodded slowly. “Didn’t get much sleep, either?”

  She brushed off my question. “I won’t take you to the hospital your father’s at, but you have to see someone.”

  “I’ll make an appointment with the doctor I saw.”

  “That’s the hospital Howard’s at right now.”

  “I’ll figure it out, then.”

  She sighed. “Why won’t you let me take you?”

  “Because it’s not your responsibility.”

  I saw the hurt in her eyes. And had I not already been dead inside, it would’ve killed me. The truth of the matter was that all this was my mother’s responsibility. But she’d abandoned me. None of this should’ve happened. Dad shouldn't have been an abusive fucking asshole. Nobody should have had to bear the responsibility of it.

  I wouldn't let Cecilia dig her hole any deeper.

  Just like I wouldn't let Rae do it, either.

  “You really should take advantage of this time. Withdraw some funds. Pack up your things. Get the hell out of here and find a better life for yourself.”

  She stepped forward, placing a hand against my arm. “While that’s sweet, it’s not your job to look after me, Clinton. I appreciate it, but right now I’m worried about you. You can’t go to school looking like this.”

  “Then I won’t.”

  “There’s nothing I can do to convince you to let me get you to a doctor?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Are you staying here for the day?”

  “No.”

  “Where are you going, then?”

  I shrugged. “Anywhere but school and here. I need to clear my head for a bit.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

  You’re much too good to me. “No, there isn’t.”

  She sighed. “Well, at least keep in touch, okay?”

  I nodded. “I can do that.”

  Reluctantly, she left my room. She walked down the hallway toward her and Dad’s bedroom, but stopped in the doorway. I watched her back expand with her breath. I saw her shoulders roll back. And as she suddenly held her head high, she let out the longest sigh I’d ever heard in my life.

  Before slipping through the large double doors and disappearing behind them.

  You’re too good for any of us, Cecelia.

  I finished getting myself ready for the day and covered up the best I could. I slipped on a pair of sunglasses and went rummaging around for a coat. Anything to slide up my arms in case there were bruises I’d missed somehow. I found a light jacket shoved in the back of my closet, neatly hanging from a hanger. A bomber jacket, made out of some lightweight material, that Cecilia had gotten me for Christmas a year or two ago.

  I ripped it off the hanger and slipped it on. I grabbed my n
otebook and pen from my bedside table and slipped my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans, cursing myself for… well, everything.

  Then I made my way downstairs.

  With my eyes covered and that bomber jacket covering the rest of my body, I made my way out the front door. Nothing in tow except my wallet and that fucking notebook. I had one goal in mind for the day. And that shit had nothing to do with school. By the time I was done today, I’d have that entire list filled with ideas on how to get the fuck out of here. How to start a life for myself with mediocre grades and no life skills to speak of.

  There had to be a way for me to get out without using resource shelters in the area.

  I walked toward school, then kept on walking. I walked past Valley High, down the mile and a half stretch until the main part of our little side of town came into view. I crossed the road, eyeing the railroad tracks off to my right. Fear seized me as images of that night bombarded my mind’s eye. Including the moment where I was sure that damn river would sweep me away.

  Rae saved you. And look at what you’re doing to her.

  “I’m saving her from me,” I murmured to myself.

  I trotted across the road and found my way into a coffee shop. The one next to the grocery store, actually. I walked inside and felt all eyes on me. Some random high school kid with sunglasses on, a navy blue jacket that almost didn’t fit, and a nose brace on his face. But, thankfully, it was still early. Which meant the morning rush was all drive-thru. No one really came inside.

  Giving me the privacy I needed.

  I ordered my coffee and stood there to wait for it. I was thankful to be there. The last place I wanted to be was at school. I couldn't face Rae. I knew she’d corner me and ask me about last night. About us. About what the fuck happened. I couldn't face her right now. Because I knew if I looked her in the eyes, I wouldn't be able to lie to her.

  So my only option was to avoid her at all costs.

  “One large black coffee with rosewater and caramel?”

  I reached out for it. “Thanks.”