Without Scars (29 page)

Pretty sordid.

But I didn’t think we knew how to want each other timidly. We had to tear at clothes. We had to kiss until it bruised. We had to fuck senseless. We had to almost implode. When you were in love was there ever not a riot inside you?

As we straightened our clothes my orgasm haze faded—the frenzied need gone—leaving reality to intrude. Neither of us spoke right away, but Charlie and I were good at silences by now. We could accurately assess each other if we observed long enough.

“Yeah, dude, you win. You made me come. Point proven. After all my self-righteousness and holier-than-thou stuff, I still get wet for you,” I said, going for mobster cool. I even gave him a weak shrug when I sat on the bed.

I was
really
great at pillow talk.

The comment hurt him, and he grimaced for a second. Then he released a grunt of frustration. “Okay, maybe that was a little part of it, but this was me
missing
you, Nik.” Charlie sat next to me, never taking his eyes off my face. “Even just being able to talk to you like we used to.”

His gaze was moving between my lips and eyes. He wanted to kiss me. “We can talk, Charlie…
only
talk.” Where was my unwavering determination, like, ten minutes ago?

“You regret having sex with me.”

“
No…
never.” I didn’t. I just wished we weren’t like this.

“Okay…talk…” he mumbled to himself. Never imagined a world where Charlie and I would be awkward. We should’ve been swinging each other’s dicks or something. “Wanna hear what I got Lux for her birthday?”

I laughed. “A lot of stuff she’s only going to play with for a week.”

“Yeah…but there’s more. I told Mira I’ll pay for a year of whatever Lux ends up falling in love with…maybe like dance or writing or an engineering and science camp, even clown school.”

I snorted. “Clown school…”

“Yeah…whatever she wants to do. When she gets really passionate about something.” He bumped my shoulder with his. “We both did at young ages. Like a gift she can grow with over time…definitely better than a toy, right?”

“Right…” Only he would think to do something like this for Lux. My heart clenched and I looked away from him. Because this kindness was how I had fallen for Charlie in the first place, and this was what I had to guard myself against now. “I bet they’re going to have cake soon. We should go back out.” When I stood up he took my hand, and I indulged in the intimacy until we were in the hallway. “We can’t hold hands or act like we just had sex, okay? It’ll cause more drama.” One minute we were fighting, fucking the next.

“Fuck.” He laughed flatly and rocked his head back against the wall. He reached for me again, but retracted his hand because he knew touching me would burn. “I don’t know how to do
us
broken up, Nik. Not when you’re right in the same fucking room with me. Seems like you got it all figured out, though.”

“No, I didn’t say that. I miss you, too. I
love
you, but I won’t have it used against me, Charlie. I won’t get caught up in some back-and-forth, roller coaster situation with you. I want to be here for you, but I am
not
the woman who saves tortured men from themselves. Especially while she’s sacrificing every fucking thing about herself in the process, trying to fight her way into all the stuff he has closed off. I’m too busy trying not to destroy
me
. Let me tell you…
that’s
turning into a
long-term
project.”

“You think I want to be saved?” Charlie pushed off the wall and stood directly in front of me. “You think that’s what’s happening here, Nik?
Fuck
saving me.”

“Then, what is happening to you! What is fucking happening to you?”

He shrank an inch. I could tell he was fighting the need to protect himself. He looked torn and embarrassed. “When we met, you told me you fell in love with Kings of Leon because you wanted a voice in your head that wasn’t your own. I would
kill
for that. Because it’s Richard fucking Mauser in there every day.
Every fucking day.
I think about my work being trash. I think about all the shit he said to me in his office. I think about whether any of this matters. It’s his fucking voice reminding me all the fucking time that I’m not good enough. That I’ll fail, anyway. That I’ll keep failing because he couldn’t see any talent or worth in my work. And to make it all worse, I never really got to tell
anybody
that eventually I
believed
him. That I still do.”

I gasped, surprised by the admission. I did know Charlie was hard on himself, but I hadn’t thought he’d taken on what Mauser said at such a deep level. I didn’t know what to say as disgust crossed his face.

“I have my parents and my sisters. I grew up in a stable household, and it’s still that way. I got into the school I wanted. I have friends. There’s
no trauma
in my background. There’s no devastating event. I can’t even count the death of my bio dad because I never knew him. So, I have a
great
life, right? But I guess my pain is somehow less real. My struggles—anything that hurts me—it’s all bullshit…because someone always has it worse than me. I have to be quiet and bury it all down deep. And I get it, in a way.

“Deacon particularly drove the point home. He laughed at me when I called freaking out over what happened with Mauser. I was depressed and fucking scared and hurt. He asked me if I was serious. While he was laughing. He asked if I was fucking serious. Then he told me how he had real shit to worry about. And hung up on me. This was basically what happened every time I tried to explain how I felt. I didn’t ask for my life or how I grew up, but somehow it all means I never get to be
sad—
”

“Charlie, you thought I would do the same because of
my problems
? We were in a
relationship
and
I love you
. I would’ve been sad with you.” I shoved him backward. “
I would’ve been sad with you.
We were equal.
Your demons were safe between us, too. They were
always
safe between us. I thought you knew that.”

For the first time since we’d known each other, I didn’t know how to read him. He looked away for a moment. “If for a few hours, some pills stop me from thinking about how I let
him
take what I love, then so be it. You had to draw a line. I guess I do, too. I’m sorry, Nik.”

Chapter Fifteen

Charlie

You know what I could write a script about? Breakups!

They were so fucking easy!

All you had to do was transfer all the time you spent with your ex-girl to other shit, like getting drunk with your boys, bro’ing out with your boys, catching up on the Netflix shows
she
didn’t like (how could she not appreciate the epicness of
Entourage
’s early seasons, anyway?), and I had so much more time to review all the shows Kenny was sending us that were looking for producers.

Yeah, when you got to this stage of the breakup you were halfway to not giving a shit. About the relationship or her.

The problem was, I was still stuck on the staring at the wall, listening to Ed Sheeran, and wanting to die part.

I reached for my iPad on my nightstand and blew away the dust speckling the screen. It was the residue from three or four crushed pills. No, I didn’t snort them. I was trying out that technique Nikki used with alcohol: destroying what destroys you. The rest of the pills were in the city’s sewer system.

I’d quit cold turkey two weeks ago, and the withdrawal was a bitch. It wouldn’t kill me; just make me feel like shit for a while. Once or twice over the past few days, I’d been tempted to get more pills. Like when I felt the crushing weight of my plummeting serotonin levels. When Elliott kept pressing me to buy. When Mauser’s voice filled my head too much. But the Internet said I could get through this. Lots of people were trying to get off prescription speed.

I beat back my anxiety—which was hitting me like bricks to the head these days—as I opened my mail app, and every time I saw an email address from Hillington I wished for a pill. The last script for
How to Fuck up a Friendship
had already gone out to the cast and crew, so I wasn’t sure what they wanted. Maybe they were finally dropping us. Maybe they’d caught on to the fact that I was a fraud. That I was just a stupid kid who thought he could prove an old man wrong.

“Sweetheart?” my mom called through my bedroom door.

“Just a sec…”
Let me hide my drug paraphernalia
.
“Come in…just Mom.” I knew Ahsha and Pree were lurking because they’d been romanticizing how miserable I was the entire time I’d been here. I‘d heard Pree joyfully telling someone on the phone about it: “My brother
literally
won’t get out of bed or eat. He and his girlfriend broke up. He, like, can’t live anymore. Oh my god. She’s, like, his everything. How come boys at school can’t be like that? All they want are nudes.” First, who the fuck were these shitheads trying to get naked pics from my underage sister? Second, she wasn’t wrong about my present condition. I really didn’t want to see what kind of shit I looked like, either. Bloodshot and brooding, probably.

A fucking Ed Sheeran song.

I heard two other sets of footsteps shuffle by as my mom walked in. “They’re just worried about you. And I have been, too. You’re always welcome here, but you still haven’t worked things out with your roommates?”

My heart lifted a little when she sat next to me and squeezed my arm. We used to do this a lot when I was younger. Whenever she was away on cases, I’d stay up late on nights she’d get back and we’d talk for a while. We stopped the summer before middle school—when she went from Mamma to Mom—because I thought I was too cool to talk to her anymore. Fuck that. At my age, I knew better now. I wasn’t ashamed to admit it. I would never get too old to need her.

“What’s going on, kid?” she asked.

“Nikki and I broke up.”

“Oh…honey. She hasn’t said anything to me at all the past few times I’ve seen her. I’m so sorry. Are you…okay?”

“Well, if you wanted to toss me out the window right now, I wouldn’t stop you because when I land, it will hurt way less.” I shook my head, my throat shrank, and my heart erupted into projectile shrapnel. “How is she?”

“She was upset a while back, but I thought it was just about her family—”

“What about her family?” I said, getting concerned.

“She’s having them over to her apartment for dinner soon. She’s nervous about talking to them about a lot of things that have happened between them. She hasn’t really gone into details, but she said her brother said awful things to her and…apparently my very sweet son
handled
it. Will you need a lawyer?”

“Not this time.”

“I really like her, Charlie, but I don’t want to make this harder on you.”

I shook my head. “I’m the one who screwed up. I put her in a difficult situation because of stuff I’m dealing with.” I’d been thinking a lot about the story Julian told me. I saw so much in what I’d done to Nikki in his words in hindsight.
Absolutely
there was danger in knowing someone could love you enough to do what you wanted, even if it went against their own best judgment and wishes.

My mom’s brow furrowed and she rubbed the top of my head. “What are you dealing with exactly, Charlie?”

“I’m gonna blow this thing with Hillington at some point. I can feel it. I just don’t want to disappoint you and Dad again.”

“When did you disappoint me, kiddo?”

“I’m gonna screw it up just like I did with Richard Mauser. It will all come crashing down again.”

“Oh God. That motherfucker?” She was up on her feet with her hands on her hips and glaring at me. So, my mom was usually prim and proper…until it was something involving the twins or me. Then she was…this. Ready to take no prisoners and shit. “Oh…don’t give me that look. You’re twenty-five and we both know you use that word, too. And he
is
a
jackass
motherfucker, Charlie. I have no tolerance for people in power who mistreat those beneath them. We all get where we are because we work hard but someone also lends a hand. He handled the situation like an asshole. There’s no harm in being a decent person.”

“But you and Dad have given us so much. You have expectations. And you’re still paying off Leeward. I want to make sure you don’t regret believing in me. And I just feel like…at any moment…Hillington’s going to realize I’m….shit…I’ll just fail again.”

“We all fail.” She sat and sighed, the anger leaving her. “Kid, I only care that you get up afterward. And you did after Mauser…but now I’m really worried about you getting trapped in this cycle of fear over it. Are you thinking about giving it all up? I’ll support your decision but… I was never surprised that you wanted to be a writer, you know. You always took to people, like you would breathe and bleed for them if you had to. I think that’s what you did when someone gave you a pen and paper. Put all their pain and triumphs right there. You understood it. Maybe a little too well…”

“Well, I love something I might be terrible at. I don’t know how to work through that.”

“Do you really think every time I’ve walked into a courtroom or a deposition I’ve known what I was doing? And why haven’t you said anything?”

“You have the girls to worry about and like I said, I didn’t want you to think you’d made a mistake supporting me in this.”

“Kid, if you think from the minute I wake up until I go to sleep at night I’m not worried sick to the point of insanity over you, then
you’re
insane. I’ve just developed one hell of a poker face. I
know
I raised three amazing children. That doesn’t mean I expect you to have the world figured out just because you’re an adult.  I don’t expect you to be perfect, either. But
you
should expect that I will
always
have faith in you, Charles Madden Dara.” Fuck. She was awesome. “So, all these things you’ve been feeling led to your breakup?”

“Yeah, and she was right to break up with me. She was right about everything. I messed up with her…” I chose self-destruction over Nikki. I chose drugs over her. I’d been so caught up in the thought of being a pussy that when the time came to really be vulnerable with the person I loved and let her see me that way, I became exactly what I was running from.

CUT TO: The ex-boyfriend who has SHUT OUT his girlfriend twice now. He REALIZES he’s just written a whole new script. He DECIDES to call it “How to Fuck Up.”

“Messed up with myself too.”

“You know what parenting is
really
about? A lot of hoping that your kids don’t fuck up, but accepting that they might, and then praying you taught them how to get through it. How to have accountability, and finding a way to fix what you can and making amends where you can. I hope your dad and I did that. We really, really tried. You think you can work it out with Nikki?”

“Nope.” I wasn’t entirely sure, but it was better to err on the side of caution. I couldn’t wipe from my memory the look on Nikki’s face when we were back in Samira’s yard that day of the party. I’d broken up a great thing, and I just hoped to God I hadn’t broken her, too.

“Well, Charlie, she knows you’re my son and she knows we’re going to talk about her, and she’s still here. As much as it hurts you, you aren’t demanding that I don’t talk to her. You’re both still invested. That’s worth something, kid. If you’re in love with Nikki, do what you can there, but make sure you fix what’s ailing
you
first
.
That’s most important.” She squeezed my shoulder. “So, you want to move back with the boys? Or get another place?”

“I think I’m gonna get another place. It’s just a pain in the ass right now because a lot of people are trying to sign leases before rent goes up in the summer. A lot of one-bedrooms where I’d like to live are gone. I’ll suck it up and just get what comes up next…”

“Tell you what. I’ll clear out the condo, so you can go live there for a bit. Pay rent to Dad and me,” she offered.

I accepted.

Over the next few days the withdrawal got worse. So bad I actually called Elliott, got in the car to go meet him, and then changed my mind on the way. Anxiety and depression were fighting over me. It was like being in a smoke-filled room, reaching the window, and being unable to get it open. Some days I didn’t give a fuck about the window at all. Interestingly, writing seemed to be the only thing that helped. I did it aimlessly at first, especially when Mauser’s words, which I was starting to understand were also mine, crowded my head. I wrote those down, too, until they were the only things I was writing. I got it all out and finally had a breakthrough and rewrote the entire final script for
How to Fuck up a Friendship.
All I wanted to do when I was done was call Nikki and tell her, but I doubted she wanted to hear from me.

I got to a point where I should’ve been sleeping like death without amphetamines, but the withdrawal from Nikki came next. There was no
getting past her.
She was in my bloodstream in a way even alcohol couldn’t wash out.

It was my sisters who eventually drove me from the house.  I was so fucking tired of them turning my life into a goddamn romance novel, so I hit up Ghost to find out where the catch-up dinner was. Then I made my way to Kyushu, a Japanese ramen house we visited a lot. Brody, Shaw, Deacon, and Ghost were seated at the bar, and Brody patted the empty stool next to him. A pretty bartender was clearing up their bowls and beers, and she paused to smile at me when we made eye contact. I pulled my gaze away as my phone chimed.

Fallon: Lose my number

Me: Okay…

The text went through but it switched over to SMS, which meant she happened to be in a bad service area right then, or she had turned her phone off after she texted me. But I needed to either pay her for the weed, which I really didn’t want to do, or give it back to her, since I hopefully wouldn’t be using amphetamines anymore.

“He lives…” Ghost said, raising his arms in the air when I looked up. He tilted forward until I rushed over, gripped his shoulders, and pushed him back upright.

“Whoa…” Shaw said, laughing.

“Damn,” Brody said, “don’t know if Ghost could’ve gone on with life if he’d cracked his pretty face.”

None of them had even attempted to catch him. “You guys are
so
fucking dumb.” I was laughing as I plopped down between Ghost and Brody.

Deacon gave me an uncertain look—maybe an apology—and then said, “I guess the team only works well when you’re here, dude.”

The irony of sadness was that you never wanted to be around your friends, but you always felt better the minute you were. My sudden good mood didn’t mean I’d stopped thinking about Nikki, though. It only meant talking, food, and music were
almost
distracting. She would always be my three A.M. sleeplessness and my ten P.M. melancholy.

Man, fuck this heartbreak shit.

Lauren the bartender came out of the kitchen and slid a menu my way. Our hands brushed. Her green eyes bore into mine as we both laughed awkwardly. She tucked her dark hair behind her ear and bit her lip. “Let me know when you’re ready to order.” Damn, were there ever bartenders who weren’t so fucking hot? I got the chicken curry ramen when she came back, and the two of us quickly struck up a conversation. I asked her if she’d ever considered acting or modeling because she was stunning. It wasn’t a pickup line, but she looked exactly like what I’d envisioned for one of the supporting roles in
Traitor.