His Girl

Secrets

The further we went, the more things changed. The houses were nice, manicured lawns, benches and gazebos on the street corners.

When we turned, the classic Chevy stood out. I gasped. We'd found him.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Wait here."

I watched Jake knock on the door of the upscale home where the truck was parked. Breaker emerged on the porch. He looked like himself in jeans and a t-shirt, his right hand was bandaged.

His body language escalated when he looked in my direction. He threw his hands up at Jake, he was gesturing animatedly. They both walked towards me. I got out of the car.

"What happened?" He was demanding.

"That's what I want to know."

"Look at you." He moved my hands away from my face. "Come inside, put some ice on that."

The house was big and modern. An open floor plan where everything was visible. The kitchen island in the center. We rested while he retrieved an ice pack from the stainless steel, double-door freezer. He used his bandaged hand gingerly as he dressed my wounds. No one spoke.

He led me to a bathroom where he continued treatment. He used peroxide on cotton and disinfectant ointment, then had me hold the ice over my eye.

"What's going on?" I asked. My voice was a pool of anger, confusion and sadness.

"I told you I wasn't a good idea for you, didn't I."

"Are you kidding?"

"No, Chanel. I did tell you that."

"You told me a lot of other things too." My throat was tight, choking on emotions.

"Breaker," a girl's voice, followed by multiple girls voices giggling.

An awful feeling doused me over the head, running down my face and chest. Tears brewed in my eyes as I glared at him.

"Are you coming to the pool?" Their voices were like nails on a chalkboard to my ears. A bevy of blonde bikini girls appeared in the hall outside the bathroom, looking exactly as they sounded.

My entire body convulsed. I couldn't breath, speak or see beyond the bouncing spectacles calling his name. I leaned against the counter, I was about to collapse.

"No, Cassidy, I'm not," he said.

"Aww come on. Bring your...erm...friend." They wailed and moaned trying to convince him. I was physically ill.

"I need to go," I said. I attempted to stand, everything was gray and hazy. My legs were too weak. I felt his arms holding me up. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them, I was looking at a ceiling. Breaker sat next to me on a bed.

"I'm leaving," I said and tried to sit up. He put his hands on my shoulders. I batted at them, "you have a pool party to go to."

"I'm not with that girl, Chanel."

"Which one?"

He rolled his eyes and sighed, "the slutty one. Does that cover it?"

"I'm so confused."

"Who's not? What happened to you?" He touched my face softly.

"They were teasing me about you, I couldn't take it anymore. I don't remember all of it, but I grabbed hair, and then their feet were in my face." I looked away. I'd been a fool to fight over him while he was at a pseudo playboy mansion. A breakup I could explain to mom, but this was bad.

"I'm sorry. I should have stayed away from you." He stood and paced around. I felt more alone than ever. Alone and scared.

"Yeah I guess." As I spoke, my voice cracked. Tears streamed down my temples to my hair. I focused on the ceiling fan spinning.

"Well I will from now on." He pounded his left hand into the wall. A crack split in the drywall. He landed his fist again and again until it created a hole. I was frozen. The sound was terrifying. He grunted with anger each time he hit.

"Why? What's going on, Breaker? Who are you right now?" I didn't know him.

"When my dad left, my mom didn't hold it together and go to night school, Chanel. Okay? There are things you just might not understand."

I did my best to sit up. He was still pacing, escalating.

"Then tell me so I can understand."

"She moved in with a guy who liked to beat on her. I was eleven, I couldn't stop him but I'd jump in front of her and take it because it hurt less than watching. Until I got big enough to hit back. Now, it's a god damn war zone." By then, he was ripping the Sheetrock from the frame.

A flood of anguish rose inside.

"Breaker, I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. My old neighbor, Big Loke, his business took off and he lets me work for him when I need somewhere to stay or some money." He extended his arms referring to the excessive wealth around us. His hand was red with nicks all over the knuckles. "While his whore daughter and her prostitute friends get high all day and try to have sex with everything that walks. They're like ten years older than us, Chanel. They bang disgusting old dudes all the time. I've never touched one of those disease infested skanks, ever. But, my bastard stepdad is in jail so I have to make ends meet for my mom and I can't ask my dad for help."

"Why not? Where is he?"

"He lives downtown," his mouth stretched tight. "In tent city." He rammed his fist through the window, pulling it back quickly.