Reckless Mind (4 page)

“I have Emma's number, and I'll text her and let her know she and I are fine. Hearing another empty apology, like I have all my life, isn't something I care to hear, Brandon.” The moment the words were out I knew it was a mistake. It wasn't much in the way of information about me, but it was something, and even with the undeniable pull I felt toward Brandon I wasn't sure I wanted him to know anything about me yet.

“Kahlen, what are you talking,” but I cut him off before he could finish.

“Seriously, Emma and I are fine. You are off the hook. My insignificant self is officially removed from your life, so you go have a nice one Brandon Lucas.” I knew my eyes were begging him not to go, and I was so damn proud of myself for looking him in the eyes, just not what I was sure he was reading in them.

Something caught him off guard, and slowly he moved his foot so he was no longer stopping the door. Quickly, he put his hand up so it wouldn't instantly shut, his fingers brushing across mine. I audibly inhaled at the warmth spreading through me from the touch of his skin on mine. “I really am sorry for what I said to you Kahlen. You're right, we don't know each other and I had no right to take my anger out on you.”

“I'm used to it, it's whatever. Just tell Emma I'll talk to her later. See ya.” And with that I shut the door hard. I wondered how much of my sordid sad life he pieced together to tell Emma. From what Emma had picked up on, and what I slipped up over saying around him tonight, if he did tell her anything I likely lost a friend before I ever really had one.

Plus, a guy like Brandon Lucas wouldn't have anything to do with someone like me. He seemed like a fast paced, multi-girl, fly by the seat of his sexy ass pants type of guy. I could lose myself in him, and right now I needed to learn how to control my emotions creeping up on me before I could be honest with myself about how I felt toward another person. If I lost myself in someone, I might never find my way back. It would be too easy to let them take over, to not fight myself to get to a point where the images from the past didn't seem to control my present.

Chapter 3

A couple weeks had gone by since I'd walked away from Emma at her parents
’ house, and since Brandon walked away from my apartment that night. I knew it was essential I talked to Emma today if I had any hope of keeping her as a friend. Even if I didn't give her all the details, she deserved to know the truths I would force myself to be comfortable with sharing. She had a right to know what she was getting into being friends with me.

My mind cluttered with shit I didn't want to remember, a lot of times it made me do things without thinking of the consequences, like how I freaked out during orientation and poor Emma was left to pick up the pieces of the crazy puzzle that was me and attempt to put it back together without knowing anything.

But school had started, and I was finally getting into a rhythm of my own with it. Classes during the day, some free time to go back to my apartment and study, then I'd go to work. Multiple times every day I'd pick up the phone to call her, but I needed time. Time to sort through the emotions of bringing someone, even a friend, around me on a constant basis. The amazing thing about Emma, she never triggered the past. Maybe because she was a female, I wasn't sure.

Picking up my cell I saw new notifications for missed calls and text messages from Emma, all wanting to either make sure I was okay, apologizing for her brother, or asking if she could come over. She had been doing this daily, and I think seeing how true she was about being my friend, even though I wasn't hanging out with her, still made me feel like I could trust her. If she was fighting for the friendship, and apologizing for something that wasn't ever her fault, that showed loyalty and in turn a level of trust established because of it.

Biting my lip, forcing my fingers over the keys of my phone, I sent a quick text telling her to come over, then ran to my room to get dressed. But the knock on my door was almost immediate, and I remembered Brandon lived in this apartment complex too. She probably stayed at his place last night, or was just over there. I had forgotten he lived over here, which explained how he knew which apartment was mine that night, and he was not following me around. My accusations of him were completely unjust, leaving me looking crazy and paranoid.

When I opened the door Emma stood there with puffy red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. She immediately threw her arms around my neck repeating how sorry she was a million times, squeezing me harder with each word until I was sure she cut off my air supply. “Uh, Emma,” I tried to pry her arms from around my neck unsuccessfully.

“Oh, sorry.” She released me and I told her to come in.  She had on a white tank top and a pair of basketball shorts I could only figure belonged to her brother. I thought about how Brandon would look in those as they sat low on his hips.

Once he was in my mind, he kind of took over. Over the last two weeks I had replayed every single encounter I'd had with him about a million times in my head. Something about the look in his eyes kept me engaged in how I felt about him in those first moments, how my body tingled everywhere when he came around the counter at work, the way those honey eyes made me catch my breath.

I realized I'd spaced out when Emma cleared her throat. “Have a seat on the couch, I'll grab us some coffee.” I looked at her cautiously, wondering just how far I could take this conversation today. “Cream and sugar?” My back faced her as I set everything out on the counter.

“The more the better, especially the sugar.” Her small laugh made me smile, and I was more relieved than I would've thought I could be at her being here. “Kahlen, I really am so sorry for my brother. I tried to get him to talk to you a few times, but he kept blowing me off and wouldn't listen.”

Well that was interesting. Why'd Brandon want his sister to think he didn't talk to me? Not that I wasn't grateful, he obviously didn't relay any of my weirdness around him to Emma, but still, why not tell her he did what she asked.

“It's not a big deal, really. I showed up during a private conversation, and he had no idea I was there. He has every right to be upset. I'm not saying I appreciate being called insignificant, but can understand a person getting upset when someone knows details about them they wished had been kept private.”

I carried the cups into the living room and set them down on the coffee table. Awkward moments were not rare around me, and the silence was eating at my nerves. I picked at the garnet and black university throw blanket I had on the couch, and averted my eyes from hers.

“Kahlen, is there something going on with you? It doesn't matter what it is, obviously as you have seen my family is anything from perfect. I don't want to push, but I'm here okay?” She tilted her head down a little so I was in her eye line, smiling reassuringly at me.

“It's just,” she continued. “The way you acted at orientation, and you are like super jumpy. You flinched any time I came close to you, and I thought you'd turned into petrified wood or something the first time I hugged you. But your eyes, Kay, they look just like,” but she didn't finish, just shook her head lightly as she held back tears forming in her eyes.

“I did ask you over so we could talk.” My mind was moving a mile a minute. Could I trust Emma with my secrets? Would she understand enough about what I endured to believe I never wanted any of it? Could she see herself as my friend after she knew the truth, and if not would she tell people about me? So. Many. Unanswered. Questions. I took a deep breath, “I want to open up to you, I really do Emma, I just...my life before, how I grew up, it wasn't...normal. I'm here now trying to start over, leave everything behind. Honestly, I'm not sure I can.”

She nodded her head as she processed what I said, and the blonde messy bun sitting on top of her head bobbed with the motion. “Living life without anyone knowing who you really are can't feel like living at all though, Kahlen. Putting up walls, only letting people see what you want them to see...the only thing accomplished by doing that is being alone. I give you my word, no matter how bad anything is I won't leave. We're besties, remember?” She said, playfully bumping her shoulder into mine.

“I've never,” I tried to swallow but the lump in my throat made it basically impossible. My hands began shaking and I put them under my thighs to hold them in place. I couldn't do this, not all of it. Maybe I can tell her enough to stop the questions, but not everything. Maybe telling someone is what I need to lessen, or even stop, the mental flashbacks. There was no way to know for sure though, none.

“You're freaking me out a little Kahlen.” She nodded in silence for me to go ahead, placing her folded hands in her lap she waited. I shifted my gaze from her to my fingernails, and began picking at the light purple polish.

“Most of my early, early childhood I have blocked out. I don't remember, and that's how I want it. When I was a little younger than a teenager is pretty fuzzy as well, but the last four or five years I couldn't forget even if I wanted to.

I never knew my biological parents, I was in the system before I was born from what I've been told. Even though I wasn't a bad child, I bounced from foster home to foster home. I didn't talk much and I think they all thought I would be a handful as I got older, but that wasn't the case. Plus, the reason I never spoke was because I didn't have anything to say.”

So far so good. That part I'd previously told other people. My emotions were absent, my voice sounded hollow even to my own ears, as I relayed what I'd told every single case worker I'd ever had my entire life. Emma's concerned eyes locked on mine, waiting.

“The last foster home I went to when I was thirteen. At first they left me alone. I got up by myself, fed myself, got to and from school by myself.” I nodded slowly remembering how I'd look through the dumpsters behind clothing and shoe stores hoping they'd be getting rid of something my size. “But as soon as I hit puberty, they took notice.” My hands started to sweat, and I knew I needed to tell her
something
, I just didn't know how. I felt like I was going to throw up, I couldn't go through with this, not yet.

“Kahlen, it's okay. I won't tell anyone what you tell me, I promise.” She meant well by promising, but that was all I ever heard.
I promise it's not that big of a deal, I promise I won't let them really do
anything to you
. I promise, I promise, I fucking promise. I stood quickly, covering my ears with the palms of my hands, shaking my head back and forth, believing I could block out the voices. Hopefully the nervous energy coursing through me would dissipate as I moved around the living room.

I continued as if Emma hadn't spoken. “It's safe to say they were into illegal things, I don't specifically know what, but the crowd they brought around was shady. Really fucking shady, low life kind of people.”

I couldn't tell her anything else, and whatever ending she made up in her mind would probably be the truth anyway, so I was done with my story. I wouldn't tell her how, by the time I'd turned fifteen, Helen, my foster parent, started talking to me about what girls were obligated to do so guys would like them. A girl was next to nothing in her opinion if she didn't have guys wanting her.

My back was to Emma again, this time I looked out the window remembering all the different times Helen had me practice on her, as if she was the guy, to be sure I took her instruction in. I shook the images from my mind, but I could still hear her voice.
Breathe like this, touch them here...
My hands threaded through my hair and I pulled until I could focus on the pain, then growled in frustration. I braced my hands on either side of the window, my head hanging down, as short choppy breaths did nothing to help me feel like I was getting oxygen.

I would contaminate Emma's pure mind with Chuck, my other foster parent. Just the thought of his name was like forcing a bad taste from my mouth. She didn't need to know how he started calling me out of my room when they had company over. It didn't make sense to me at first why a bunch of their friends would want anything to do with me, or even give a shit who I was.

But they cared all right, especially after Helen would whisper in my ear to do what she taught me. I was fifteen, I thought I understood what they were trying to make these gross men think, but I never imagined my own foster parents would do that to me.

I dug my fingernails into my palms until I felt something wet on their tips, focusing on the pain there. Blood no doubt coated the tips of my fingers, but sometimes the pain was better than reality. If I didn't live up to what they thought I should and help them with their
business connections
, as they called them, they would punish me. I have the scars to remind me every single day. Yet they always told me what they did was because they loved me, they wanted a better life for me, and they were so sorry I couldn't understand. But every ounce of pain was better than being locked in a room with one of their clients.

Tears pooled in my eyes as I turned to face Emma. I wouldn't be alive today if I told them no, if I refused all together. No, they would have killed me or let someone else do the honors a long time ago.

“Kahlen,” she stood and walked over to stand in front of me. “I know there is more you aren't telling me.” I clenched my teeth as she took my hands in hers and gasped as her fingers touched my now drying blood. She moved, walking backwards down the hall, with my hands in hers until we got to the bathroom. Grabbing the wash cloth from the side of the sink, she soaked it in warm water and began cleaning the cuts my nails left behind. She couldn't even talk to me, Emma hadn't looked at me since she felt what I'd done to my own hands.