Defiance (New Adult Romance) (Isaac & Maya) (32 page)

“Isaac…” he whispers, rising from his seat.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snap, backing away as he circles around his desk and steps forward.

“She’ll be fine.”

“No, she won’t,” I mutter, unable to hold back a loud sob.

“She’ll have the best care in the country, the best rehabilitation.”

“It won’t matter.”

“Yes, it will.”

“No, it won’t!” I yell. “There’s no recovering from this, not for her.”

“Isaac, calm down.”

My throat feels so tight. I absolutely despise my father’s voice when it seems like he actually cares about me. There’s nothing calming about it
at all and I just start to breathe faster, twisting away as his outstretched hand falls on my shoulder. I slap it off, instantly realizing how stupid that was and freezing up, waiting for him to hit me. But he doesn’t, he just says my name again and breaks down himself. Why can’t he just be heartless? Why does he have to be a real person sometimes? It’s so much easier when he’s just a monster in the dark that doesn’t feel anything for anyone. I can’t fucking deal with this right now.

I take a chance and turn my back on him to make my retreat, but he grabs my shoulder. Bile rises in my throat, the sensation of his body so close behind me without being able to see him is unbearable, so I spin around. His tearful eyes meet mine and I realize that I’ve never seen him cry before, not even when he lost his wife. He wants to blame me and I want to blame him, but we can’t. There’s nothing either of us could have done to prevent this and the only person more devastated than I am is the man in front of me.

I’m stronger than he is now and I could stop him from pulling me into a hug if I wanted to, but I don’t. This is what family does, right? Embrace and sob into each others shoulder when they almost lose someone because no one else can understand what they’re going through. Glory would find this outpouring of emotion incredibly distasteful, she’d never fuck either one of us again.

It’s strange how much you can hate someone, yet still care about them. That connection is so difficult to sever internally, even when you’re actively scheming to put the other person in prison or in the ground. My father has got to be one of the most despicable human beings to have ever walked the Earth, but I can’t manage to stop myself from feeling a little bad for him. He’s so heartbroken. He loves her, so much more than I do, probably more than he even realized until today.

It’s not like that for me anymore, but I have to play the part. I haven’t been in such close physical contact with my father and not been completely terrified or miserable since I was a very small child. He used to visit me that first year I lived with Glory. He was a normal dad back then, I wonder if it would have stayed that way if his wife never found out about me. Everybody says that I’m wrong, that he’s attached to me and would never want me gone. Maybe they’re right. I can’t imagine him doing this in front of anyone else.

The tender moment doesn’t last, because his hand leaves my shoulder and cups the back of my head, his wrist resting on the nape of my neck. He did this for the first time when I had a nightmare after what Uncle Nick did. It was so soothing. That’s how I learned to do this to the girls when they were scared and upset. To Glory. To Maya.

I almost throw up, all the hate and rage coursing through my veins until I howl and push him backwards.
You sick fuck
. I’m glad he’s in agony, I almost want her to die just so he can experience more. I hope he lives a long life so he has more time to rot behind bars.

“Why are you so upset?” I snarl. “Did your favorite toy break herself?”

He stares up at me, totally dumbfounded. “Isaac?”

“You’ll get rid of her again, won’t you? The only fucking person on the planet that actually cares about me will eat a bullet because of you.” My voice is so foreign to me, so hostile and nasty. I really need to shut the fuck up and get out of here.

“I won’t leave this time,” he says.

“Yes, you will. She won’t be good enough for you anymore.”

“How dare you speak to—”

“Will you go to her at night, or will she know that you’re drowning your sorrows in the bodies of the younger, firmer women? Will you make her feel beautiful when she knows she isn’t anymore? Ignore it if half of her face can’t move? Help her eat? Listen to her broken voice as it learns to speak again? Watch the woman whose intellect you admire so much struggle to find the right words, to make a simple decision? Will you
honestly
be able tell her that you still love her and none of it matters? Because she will know if you’re lying.” I stand there, seething, watching as the reality of what it could really be like slaps him in face and leaves him speechless. “That’s what I thought,” I snap.

I storm out of his office as he shouts at his men to let me leave. I can’t get away from this house fast enough. He used to see
m so formidable to me, but now the only thing I feel is disgust. I just want him to disappear forever and if Glory can’t make that happen anymore, I’ll have to find a way to do it myself.

41

Isaac

Maya is completely exhausted when she gets home, I don’t want to burden her. But in the interest of full disclosure, I tell her everything in the morning. It’s Friday and she doesn’t have any classes, but I still have to go to the hospital. As always, my perfect, understanding, compassionate girlfriend tells me that it’s fine. She gives me a big hug, kisses my face and marches off to the library to help a weary group of freshmen overcome their anxiety about their final exams.

I don’t know very much about makeup and skin care in general, but I haven’t the faintest what shade of lipstick compliments a hospital gown. I guess I’ll just pick up three so she can choose. The right face cream is an even greater mystery, so I ask the girl at the counter for help and she points me toward something that’s tinted and expensive. Since Glory’s skin color is about the same as mine, we use that as a guide. At least I know what flowers she likes. I used to buy a specific bouquet when I fucked up to say that I’m sorry, but I decide to go with a different arrangement, something cheerful and sunny. Now I want to bring a bigger one home to Maya, but I can’t because she’ll know I only got it because of this.

I step into the hospital elevator to go up to her floor, confident that I won’t be turned away this time and therefore terrified about actually seeing her. I’m so glad that I went to her house that day, I never would have forgiven myself if this had happened to her and I’d left it like it was at the investigator’s office. I know that’s fucked up, but I can’t help it.

The elevator doors slide open and I see Glory’s pit bull of an assistant standing outside her door. Fuck. I try to find a place to hide before she spots me, but it’s too late. Eyes flaring and high heels clapping, she stomps toward me, already waving me away. To say that Jennifer isn’t my biggest fan would be an understatement. She completely despises me even though she’s not allowed to. Glory keeps Jen out of her personal shit in a lot of ways, but I was around way too much and totally screwed up her life for several years.

“
What
do you think you’re doing here?” Jen barks.

“Visiting,” I reply.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I fucking am,” I shoot back, looking around for the helpful, rule breaking nurse I met yesterday. “Glory told me to come back today.”

“I’ll let her know you dropped by.”

“Jen…” I shouldn’t make a scene. “Where the hell were you yesterday? Why was she by herself?”

“You’re kidding right?” she scoffs. “She was by herself because I was a little busy dealing with the repercussions that are bound to happen when one of the most powerful women in the country drops to the floor during an extremely important meeting because blood stops flowing to her brain. Have you picked up a newspaper today?”

I wonder if she realizes that Glory is about to make headlines for a very different reason. Jen might never work again after this, just one more life that my father gets to destroy. That realization tempers my hostility as I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I guess I didn’t think about that part, I’m sure she appreciates it.”

“
You’re
sorry?” Jen hasn’t spoken to me since my personality makeover. Why did I always have to be such a dick?

“Yeah, I learned how to apologize,” I explain. “I owe you a few more for being a total fucking maniac back in the day.”

“Better late than never, I suppose.”

“Glory wants to see me, Jen. Ask the nurses. If there’s a list, I’m on it.”

“She might have mentioned something about you…” Jen grumbles.

“Can she talk?”

“Not very well, so she won’t. And she doesn’t appear interested in speech therapy or any other type of rehabilitation, though it’s a little early for that discussion.”

“Fuck…”

“Maybe you can lift her spirits, Isaac. This was relatively minor, she has excellent prospects for recovery, but she just doesn’t seem to care. I don’t get it. All her fight is gone.”

I bet it is. “I’ll do what I can,” I mumble, stepping past her as I summon the courage to face whatever is behind that door.

“Is that
makeup
?” Jen snaps.

“Um… no.”

“It’s a Lanc
ô
me bag, Isaac.”

“No, it’s a…” Fuck. Glory did say smuggle after all, I kind of dropped the ball here.

“She’s not allowed to wear any because they need to check her skin and lip color for oxygen flow!”

Hmm. That sounds rather important.
“You said you wanted to lift her spirits,” I reason.

“I give up,” she laughs, opening her purse. “Here. She can have this back too, I guess.”

“You took her mascara?” I reply, sounding so unexpectedly outraged that I have to laugh at myself. Jen rolls her eyes at me and starts to walk away, pulling out her phone. “Jen, wait. She’ll probably stab herself in the eye with this.”

“So put it on for her.”

“I don’t fucking know how.”

“Too bad,” she laughs. “You’re on your own now, kid.”

It certainly feels that way. I stand in front of the Glory’s hospital room door and try to open it. After a few attempts, I turn the knob, closing my eyes as I step into the room. When I open them, I see that Glory’s bed is turned so it’s facing the window, with her back to the door.

“Hi,” I say softly, walking up beside her. She doesn’t respond with words, but her hand reaches out for mine, so I give it to her. Her face is turned so far in the opposite direction that it has to hurt her neck. “I, um, brought the lipstick and face cream Glor.”

“Thanks,” she whispers, squeezing my hand.

I exhale a huge amount of air that I didn’t realize I was holding, the relief so comforting that I nearly fall over. That sounded pretty normal. A bit of a lisp on the end, but not that bad at all. Glory is quite the perfectionist, though. “How are you feeling?” I ask.

“My head hurts.”

“That kind of makes sense if you think about it.”

“I suppose it does,” she murmurs. Yeah, there’s definitely speech damage, but it’s barely noticeable.

“Why aren’t you looking at me, Glory?”

“I’m not sure,” she chuckles. “Aside from these fucking nurses, you’re the only one that’s seen me without my face on for the last ten years.”

“I never understood why. You don’t look a day over thirty.” That’s not always true. She’s far too thin right now, it ages her. “Glory, if your face is sagging on one side or something… that’s not always permanent, I looked it up.”

“Oh,
God
,” she spits in disgust. “Is that what you’re picturing?” Glory takes a deep breath, letting my hand go and bringing hers to her face for a few seconds. She turns towards me, keeping her chin tucked to her chest for a moment before she finally lifts her eyes to mine.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Glor,” I exhale. “You scared the shit out of me for some dark under eye circles? You’ve looked worse coming off a three day weekend bender.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” I laugh.

She smiles at the bouquet of flowers I sat on the table behind me, but then her eyes lock onto the department store bag I’m holding. “Bring me that mirror,” she says, pointing across the room. Her finger doesn’t seem to be able to straighten all the way. I give her the bag, trying to not to notice how much she struggles to open it and fish around inside. “Tinted moisturizer? You are the best fake son a wicked step mother like me could ever hope for.”

“That is a messed up compliment.” I grab the mirror, soon realizing that I’ll have to hold it for her while she applies the contraband.

“My left hand works okay, I’m just not used to using it,” she explains as she smears cream all over her face.

“Jen put your mascara in there...”

“That’s probably not a good idea yet,” she grumbles. “Unless you think you could—”

“No way,” I refuse. “You could do a better job with your toes than I could
with my hand.” That’s totally not true, I’ve seen girls do that thousands of times, but I’m not going that far. Maya would hate it. Then Glory starts to struggle with the lipstick and I can’t stop myself from peeling off the little plastic wrapper. “One of them is the wandy, glossy kind with the little stick that goes into the tube,” I say, handing it to her.

“Oh, perfect,” she replies, putting a dab on and smearing it around by rolling her lips together. “Bring under eye concealer next time please.”

“Glory…”

Her phone beeps and she starts frantically gathering up the cosmetics. “Hide this. The bitches are coming.”

“What?”

She shoves the bag into my hands, which I promptly drop on the floor and kick under her bed when I hear voices getting closer. The door opens to reveal the faces of two nurses that are very surprised to me.

“A visitor!” one of them says sweetly, though it probably sounded more like condescension to my wicked step mother. “That’s a good sign. Has she said anything to you yet?”

Glory’s eyes widen, pleading with me. “Not a word,” I reply, stepping aside.

They take her vitals and ask her to do simple things like wiggle her toes, raise her hands above her head, make simple sounds, stuff like that. Gloria just sits there with her arms crossed and won’t even look at them. She finally narrows her eyes and sticks out her tongue, which goes way over to one side of her mouth. They wish me luck, laughing as they depart.

“Are you pretending that you can’t talk?” I ask in a low voice, pulling a chair up beside her bed.

“Yes,” she replies, inhaling raggedly.

“Why?”

Her eyes meet mine and her jaw starts shaking so bad I wonder if I should call the nurses back in. I grab her hand instead. “Because I can’t do this anymore,” she whispers.

“Do what?”

“Him. I don’t want him to touch me anymore. I can’t… He’s too…” Glory chokes out a sob and grabs my hand.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not. That’s what makes it so terrible.”

“Oh.” Of course she’d react like that, I should have figured as much.

“I lied,” she admits. “It’s not nice to have him be like he used to be. I don’t want that anymore, I don’t want
him
. And I can’t keep pretending.”

“Glory, it’s almost—”

“You have to come home,” she interrupts me, her nails digging into my palm.

“I have a home now, Glor. That’s not it.”

“Isaac, please.
Please
,” she begs. “If you’re around, he’ll leave me alone.”

Why did she have to put it that way? “I can’t,” I choke.

“You have to,” she sobs. “I’m going to fuck this up at the very end, I know it.”

“Glory…”

“
Someone
has to stop him, Isaac.”