Burning Through Gravity

  Carter knocks me flat on my back, and my head bounces off the floor. The room spins for a minute.

  “You stupid piece of shit.” Carter kicks me hard in the thigh before rolling over. “You touch my balls again, and you’re going to die.”

  “Got it.” I groan before sitting up. “Dude, did you touch her? She’s a hands off situation. Do not, I repeat, do not start shit with her. She’s vulnerable. She’s hurt.”

  “And who put her in that position? Who hurt her?”

  “Point taken.” I lean up against the wall as we pant in and out of turn. We’re both too tired and fucked-up to move.

  “Evelyn is making her miserable. You’re making her miserable. She has things she wants to tell you.” He winces. “Have you told her about your past with Evelyn?”

  “Not yet.”

  He shakes his head. “The two of you are masters of holding back the truth.” He staggers to his feet and swipes his phone off his desk. “Maybe the two of you deserve one another.”

  Carter takes off, leaving his stale, cryptic words to linger in the air.

  Maybe the two of us deserve one another?

  What the hell is that supposed to mean?

  10

  Defying Gravity

  Stevie

  The thick November clouds clutter up the sky in dark navy jags with a layer of crimson woven throughout as if God were revealing the tapestry of our lives, leaving us to decipher what it all means.

  Billy Knoxville. I stalk him often on his various social media sites. Three years after Claire died, he knocked up some chick named Gia. Of course, Gia, being the wise girl she was, left his sorry ass and took her kid clear across to Canada. Billy ended up at OSU, trading in his childhood nickname for William and joined a frat that was notorious for dealing. Since he could change his name but not his ways, William was booked for possession his senior year, was effectively expelled, and now manages an all-night pancake house. I pull his Jinx profile up and see that he’s updated his status. She said yes! He wears a toothy grin, holding a bikini-clad girl in one arm, a margarita in the other.

  I wonder if that’s what Claire would have wanted. A life with pancake house Billy. Reefer dealing Billy. Kid in Canada Billy. But, then, maybe if Claire had lived, none of those quasi-tragic things would have happened to him. Maybe William would be running for senate, they’d have a baby on the way, and Claire would have started a memorial fund for me by now. She had a way of making things better for those around her. And now I wish she would have lived, if for nothing else, for pancake house Billy’s sake.

  Claire fills me with her presence. I close my eyes and let her move through my body, alive and fluttering like a thousand butterflies. She paints my soul with rainbows, rivers and streams, the fruit of heaven. I can feel her. Feel her. My mother jags through my mind with her dark wings and shadowed intent as the needle in the balloon of my fantasy.

  When Claire and I were young, we would trade places so often that our lives became interchangeable. Once, my mother, thinking I was my sister, pulled me into the room and whispered a thing of horror in my ear.

  “Watch your sister. She’s going to need you. Life isn’t kind to someone like that. She feasts off the need to make people pay for their sins, and those are the most dangerous kinds of people. Bare your pure heart to hers. Only you have the ability to wipe her soul clean. It’s my fault she wears her impurities like a badge. I did this. I bore illegitimate children, and God has decided to use her as my punishment. You must help me heal this wound.”

  “She’s the wound?” I asked in the best imitation of my sister.

  “She is my love.” Her features harden. Her lips tighten as if she were onto our rouse all along. “She is the most infected wound of all.”

  I head into the Trattoria and find both my sisters already seated at our favorite table.

  At least I still have my siblings—most of them. That’s about the only thing that’s going right for me. I needed an escape today. I couldn’t take much more of Evelyn’s bitchy freak out. Here she is, plodding through her imaginary first trimester, and everyone is eyeing her falsely distended belly—dousing her with adulations as if she just found the cure to the common cold. A mountain of gender-neutral gifts grows steady on her desk with new packages delivered daily to her office. Of course, she has me open them all and write out her thank you notes. And as a part of her dedication to this ongoing farce, she’s dutifully put on a good twenty pounds. It’s hard to believe Ford has been so patient with her lies. How could he possibly believe them? I thought for sure he’d insist on going to those contrived doctor’s appointments of hers, but maybe Crawford Cannon isn’t the man I thought he was. Evelyn has already moved into his downstairs bedroom, and I haven’t set foot on his property since the news broke.

  “What’s going on, baby sis?” Aspen pulls me into a long, deep hug. “You look miserable.”

  Her eyes are swollen as if she’s been crying. She has a floral printed scarf around her neck that doesn’t quite cover up a seam of red flesh, nothing but a row of broken blood vessels.

  “Ditto,” I say, lowering the gossamer-thin fabric. “God, what happened?”

  Kinsley gasps as she takes in the bloated red flesh. “Did you burn yourself with the curling iron?”

  I kick Kins under the table for even offering Aspen the out.

  “Look me in the eye, and tell me he didn’t do this to you.” I squeeze my fingers into her flesh so hard her cardigan falls off her shoulder exposing another welt over her arm. I pull it down further—Aspen is red as an apple. “What the hell is all this?”

  “Relax, they’re just hickeys.” She adjusts her clothes and folds her hands over the table as if it were perfectly normal.

  “Excuse me?” Kinsley tries to get Aspen to look at her to no avail. “Aren’t hickeys a throwback to junior high?”

  “Yes,” I answer for her. “That’s what stupid boys do to mark girls. He’s marking you, isn’t he?” I shake my head. “He’s afraid you’ll leave. You are going to leave, right?”

  “This is hardly a crime.” Aspen adjusts her scarf. “He’s my husband.” She grinds her teeth. “There’s no way I’m failing at this.”

  “Failing?” A sorry laugh tries to hammer its way out of my throat. “You were never in a winning position to begin with.” I pull her in and whisper into her ear. “You don’t belong with Henry. You never did.”

  “He’s not a bad person.” She looks away when she says it. “He really wants this to work.”

  “Well, it’s not.” Kinsley points at the scarf wrapped around Aspen’s neck. “This whole marked look isn’t working for you at all. Move in with me and Linc.”

  “I’ll pass.” Aspen shivers as if reliving a bad memory, and, knowing her, that was just last night. “What’s new with you, Kins?” She feigns interest in my sister’s life just long enough to change the subject. She doesn’t have the guts to face me. Her affect falls flat as if she were simply going through the motions. This isn’t the sister I know and love, this is some shell that Henry gutted and poorly decorated with his mouth.

  Kinsley bites hard on her lower lip. “Dillon Collette has been a very good friend to me.” A giggle brews in her throat.

  “Are you sleeping with him?” Aspen pulls her back so hard I half expect a fistfight to break out.

  “No, things are getting heated though.” Kinsley bounces her seat away from Aspen. “Geez, would you relax?”

  “I won’t relax. He’s married in the event you didn’t know. You said he had little kids. You can’t just interject yourself in a situation like that. He’s using you. Don’t fall for it. Marriage is sacred, and it should be treated that way.” She tosses a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “I have to go.” Aspen dives toward the exit, slamming into Lincoln on her way out.

  “And there’s that.” Kinsley lifts her drink as a backward toast before taking a sip. “She’s so screwed up, she can’t see straight. There has to be something we can do.??
?

  Carter blinks through my mind.

  “Sometimes only true love can save the day,” I whisper.

  This afternoon Evelyn insisted I write from the future Mrs. Cannon on those ridiculous thank you cards she’s having me do, so I gave her the finger and walked the hell out of there. That’s when Carter found me and pulled me into his office. He’s been a steady system of support throughout this entire crisis. He insisted I come clean to Ford, and I agreed. Carter volunteered to be there for me when I finally tell Ford everything, and that’s, ironically, when Ford stormed in and beat the shit out of him. I feel terrible. And, of course, I feel equally bad that I have to confess to Ford my true identity—my true intentions. Although, I’m not really sure what the hell my intentions are anymore.

  My days playing the Lionheart spy at Jinx are numbered. Carter suggested we wait until Monday then take Ford somewhere neutral like the beach and lay it all out.

  “What’s going on?” Lincoln scoots in close. “Aspen nearly decapitated me on her way out. You two piss her off?” He looks at Kinsley accusingly.

  “Nope.” I run my finger over the rim of my glass absentmindedly. “Her husband pissed her off, she just doesn’t know it.”

  “Let’s order, I’m starved.” Kinsley flags down a waitress, and the two of them put in their usual, but I choose to decline.

  “Never seen you turn down a meal.” Kinsley eyes me with suspicion. “Everything okay?”

  “I haven’t had much of an appetite as of late. In fact, I’ve been sick to my stomach.” I tell them about Evelyn’s fucked-up thank yous and my trip to Carter’s office. “I’ve decided to do it.” I lock eyes with my brother. “I’m coming clean with everything on Monday. Carter is coming with us to Shipwrecks. I’m going to tell Ford exactly who I am, and then I’m going to cut myself loose from this madness.”

  “Is that what you think you’re doing?” Lincoln’s eyes harden to flint. “You think you can just end this because your ‘heart got crushed along the way?’” He says that last part as if it were the ridiculous ponderings of a child. “Why the hell do you even care about that asshole? The Cannons have been a thorn in our side for the past few years. This is your chance, Stevie. You can fall into our father’s good graces. You deserve to be written back into that will, both you and Aspen.” His gaze steadies over mine as if he were pleading with me, and I believe he is. “You have it all in the palm of your hand, don’t let this bastard come between you and the family. I’ve talked to my mother. She’s impressed with your loyalty.”

  A disgruntled huff expels from me. He had me until he mentioned his mother. His mother is the exact reason I’ve been denied a father all these years, and now I’m wondering if I want one at all.

  “I have you guys.” I force a bright smile. “In a few months I’ll have my degree. Life isn’t all about money and trust funds. I can manage just fine without a dime of ‘Daddy’s’ money.” There’s a pang in my chest, deep and hot as a bullet, as if my words had the power to kill me. “Besides, it was never our father’s money I wanted. I wanted him. I’m not sure he’s capable of giving me what I’ve always craved.” And that’s love. I once thought Ford was capable, and now I’m not sure of that either.

  “And you think this guy—who thinks he’s having a kid with someone else, is going to give you what you need?”

  I search Lincoln’s face as if he held the answer to the very question he asked.

  “I don’t know. But I think I’d be stupid not to find out.”

  I snatch my purse from the back of my chair and rise to leave.

  “Stevie, wait!” Kinsley pulls me in. “Don’t turn your back on the family. This is your opportunity to prove yourself to Daddy. You can do this. You can have both. If this guy really loves you…” her voice trails off because even Kinsley, in her constant state of debutant delusions, knows that I have can’t have both. If I kick Jinx out from beneath Ford, that will be the final nail in our coffin.

  “Monday. It all ends.” I take off.

  It’s time to tunnel in for the weekend and bury myself in ice cream and chick flicks.

  I need you, Lo.

  I stare at the text until each letter burns into my mind. I see them when I close my eyes. I can hear him whispering them straight into my ear. Ideally, before I ever tell Ford a damn thing, Evelyn will come clean. I have it all mapped out in my mind. Carter and I will take Ford to Shipwrecks right after lunch on Monday. That gives me a few short hours to somehow convince the Evil One that she needs to vomit out the truth.

  I shovel another spoonful of Cherry Garcia into my mouth.

  Evilyn has always been the wild card. Odds are she won’t cooperate. The last thing I want to do is spill her lies myself. Ford already stated emphatically that she would never fake a pregnancy. I wonder what makes him so sure? What makes him so confident she wouldn’t slash and burn her way through this world just to be with him? Nope. Evilyn has to tell him herself. It’s the only way to ensure she won’t pull another stunt. Once he sees for himself the cobra he’s kept by his side, all these years, he’ll realize how dangerous she really is.

  My phone buzzes again. It’s an interoffice text.

  Don’t forget, the Kinx mixer is tonight! This is a mandatory event for all employees and interns. Open bar, one night only.

  I text Ford. Timely threat, Superman.

  Anything to see you, Lo.

  Something stirs in me, and I get my ass off the couch. There’s an employee mixer I’m suddenly anxious to attend.

  Kinx is located within walking distance of Gravity, which inadvertently creates a marketplace for nightclubs in downtown Breakers—not that Breakers needs a nightclub, let alone a string debauchery laden dens. Everything Ford Cannon does is by design with the exception of where he puts his penis. He seems much more liberal with that not-so-little detail.

  I don my tightest little black dress and stuff my feet into a pair of patent leather FMs. It takes less than fifteen minutes to drive down to the club. Bella is already here somewhere swarming with the rest of the worker bees as I head inside. Its employee-intern night, so the public will have to wait another day to partake in the brilliance that is Kinx. The worker bees are happy and smiling, shouting at one another above the music with a laugh in their throat. For a moment I envy them. They don’t have evil preceptors or company takeovers to weigh them down.

  I navigate my way downstairs. There’s a party in the basement, and I plan on dancing the night away. Come Monday, Ford won’t want me anywhere near this place.

  It’s dark inside, the walls painted a deep marine, and it gives off an underwater feel. The stairwell glows an electric blue as I wind my way to where a DJ pumps out the beats so loud my chest acts as a facilitator for the bass. Bodies grind up against one another. I spot Jener and Bella having a great time and frown. I forgot she essentially has a plus one. I’d better find the Evil One and give a brief wave before taking off. Knowing her, she’ll have my internship revoked for being a no-show. A familiar song streams through the speakers, and I can’t help but get pumped. My mood has been swinging like a pendulum as of late, so it doesn’t surprise me that I’m all over the place—eating Cherry Garcia one minute and rolling my head seductively to the rhythm of Pearl Jam the next.

  I spot Pepper and head over.

  “Where’s your boss?” I’m sure wherever Evil is, Ford can’t be too far behind since he’s unwittingly been recruited as her henchmen—not to mention the fact she doesn’t believe in letting him out of her sight.

  “In the sapphire room.” She nods down the hall, and I make my way over. The music increases with intensity, the crowd sloshes around in a blur. I enter the room at the end and find it dark as hell with bodies glowing an ethereal blue, floating around like ghosts. The whole place has a haunted appeal. It makes you dizzy—makes you drunk without a drop of alcohol running through your veins although I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’s not liquored up with the exception of Evelyn. She’s been
pretty staunch in her lie, even omitting her daily consumption of sushi to propagate the mass perjury she’s committing.

  And here she is. Evilyn dances with her head tossed back. Her body writhes up and down Ford’s like an accomplished stripper. In Ford’s defense, he’s standing against the wall with his knee bent, hands in his pockets while talking to Carter through the side of his mouth. Evilyn is simply a gnat he’s trying to ignore.

  His eyes latch onto mine, and he whispers something to his brother. It takes less than a second for Carter to maneuver his way through the crowd and appear by my side.

  “Are you playing bouncer?” I almost laugh. “Does he want me gone?” It makes no sense. He’s the one that summoned me here, and I’m positive it wasn’t to witness Evilyn’s latest dirty dancing moves.

  “No.”

  I wrap my arms around Carter’s waist before he can finish and start swaying to the music.

  “I’m not doing this with you, Stevie.” He slips my hands to my side. “He wants to see you.”

  “He can see me from there.” I pull his hands onto my hips, and he gives a wry smile.

  “Stevie.” Carter closes his eyes a moment.

  “What? He’s with her. She’s having his baby. Who am I to stand in their way?” It felt like treason just slipping from my lips.

  “He wants to see you, alone.”

  “You can tell your boss I’m not going anywhere with him. If he wants to talk to me, he can talk to me right here. After all, I’m just another intern.”

  I glance over at Ford. We simply flew too high too fast. I think I finally get my mother’s twisted poetry. It was never about falling upwards, the buoyancy of love. It was about the inevitable crash. After all, it’s the fall—reentry that reduces you to cinder. That’s when you really burn through gravity—when you’re crashing back to reality.

  “You’re not just another intern, Stevie.”

  My eyes trace the floor until I’m staring at Evelyn once again and her hip-thrusting maneuvers. She has her mouth over his ear, her knee hiked up around his waist, and I lose it.