“Fuck.” I run a trembling hand down my face. Way to keep my cool. “Well done, asshole...”
Admitting her sins that blatantly couldn’t have been easy. She opened up to me, showed her rawest form, unearthed things she probably has a hard time thinking about, let alone confessing, and making exactlyzeroexcuses while doing so. She laid the hard, cold truth down... and I snapped.
As I do wherever Mia’s concerned.
I get up to follow Blair, but one glance at the couch stops me taking half a step. I can’t leave Noah alone.
Flexing my fingers, I ball my fists repeatedly to purge the tension and influx of unpleasant emotions from Blair’s confession. The hard-to-stomach memories and the protectiveness I’ve felt toward Mia since I saw her struggling with Asher.
To this day, I don’t know what triggered the response. I was never interested in her, never saw her as anything more than a little sister, but the need to defend her engulfed me. No matter how much time passes, no matter the fact she’s engaged to my brother, I still feel responsible for her.
Guilt smacks me across the face as Blair’s confessions swirl round my head, my challenge-loving mind deciphering the clues.
“Such an easy way to have friends, to be heard and seen...”
The fleeting mention of her mother’s schizophrenia, and how death might be kinder to her than life. How she weighed every word to make sure nothing she said could be interpreted as an excuse. How she looked like she’d resigned herself to a life of guilt and regret, not worthy of any good moments.
Heard. She wanted to be heard and seen...
I grab a packet of cigarettes from the kitchen drawer and head to the balcony, surrounding myself with thick, white clouds. It helps center my mind, clear the clutter, and focus.
Three deep drags, and the web of information, the scraps Blair threw my way, unravels, creating a simple but bone-chilling picture. Areason.
She bullied Mia to feel like she had an ounce of power and control in this world. Living with a mentally ill parent had to be a nightmare. To top it off, throughout all the years I’ve known her, Blair’s never mentioned her father.
And the fact I don’t know the guy speaks volumes about his involvement in his daughter’s life.
Was Blair alone with her mother all those years?
Did she watch her die?
I don’t know much about schizophrenia other than what I’ve seen in one episode ofHouse M.D.If it’s anything like that, then a five-year-old girl would’ve been properly messed up after witnessing her mother’s mental breakdowns.
The more I think about her words, the more sense I find and the more empathy I have for the little girl who watched her mother wilt away. The more I understand why she stood by Jake Grey’s side, taking her hurt and frustration out on Mia.
“It doesn’t fucking change anything. She could’ve stopped, she could’ve...” I zip my mouth, though I admit I get why Vee talks to herself.
It really helps center the thoughts.
The cold, harsh truth is that Blair’s confession does change a fucking lot. And... she did stop bullying Mia for a while. I don’t know why, but now I’ve got to know her, I think she tried to do better. Be better...
“Shit.” I toss the cigarette butt in the ashtray and head back inside.
I should’ve never let Blair get this close. We’re at the friendly neighbor level, I think, but that’s still way too fucking close.
“Juice,” Noah’s voice brings me back to here and now, his big brown eyes staring from where he sits on the couch, wide awake. “Juice.”
“Sure, little bud. Give me a sec.”
And just like that, the negative emotions disperse, leaving nothing behind. That’s what my nephews do to me. They bring a sense of order, peace, and bliss. Hanging out with a kid is easier. They don’t have a care in the world, and I let myself off the hook for a few hours.
SEVENTEEN
Blair
THE CHESS LESSONS NEVER HAPPENED. I stood outside Cody’s apartment for ten minutes last Monday, my hand falling to my side every time I tried to knock.
Afraid of facing him, I tucked my tail between my legs and fled. It was too easy to forget how much he hates me after he saved me from Alan, held me when I cried, and made me come so many times I lost count.
