Page 49 of Kings Don't Break

Sydney laughs. “So I’ve heard. It’s just about the last thing I expected when I came here… but I couldn’t resist him. He couldn’t resist me. Believe me, we tried. Funny thing is, Mace gets me more than maybe anybody else I’ve ever known. It’s like he’s the other half of me. I’m sure it doesn’t make sense when I try to explain.”

I blink, discovering tears in my eyes.

Sydney might not realize it, but her words resonate with me—deep in my being, as she tells me how Mason feels like her other half, there’s only one man’s face I see in my mind’s eye.

Only one man who has only ever accepted me as I am. Truly, as if he is my other half.

I spent years trying to morph into the perfect woman for Ken. I changed myself in so many different ways just to be what he said he wanted. The docile wife and the doting homemaker with a sparkling home. A doormat who took whatever he dished out and accepted his many affairs.

It was never enough for him. He demanded more. He broke me down ‘til there was no part of myself left.

For eight years I’ve watched as I was ground into dust. I ceased to exist.

He owned me in every sense of the word. In every way you could own a person. I’ve been so under his control, everything I do, say, think aligns with what he wants.

Even now, as I sit and vent to Sydney, it feels as if Ken’s omnipresent.

His control runs that deep.

No more.

An idea materializes as I grow desperate to sever the tether he has on me and my life. Something that will show him—and myself—he no longer controls me or has any say in what I do or who I am.

I rise up from the chair at the kitchen table and wander from the room.

Sydney calls after me. I don’t answer her. I’ve slipped into an almost catatonic state as I pass through the narrow hall that connects one half of the trailer with the other. My hand extends to push open the door to the bathroom. I reach for the shears Blake often uses to trim his golden-brown, shoulder-length hair, and I hold it up to my own.

“What are you—oh!” Sydney gasps. She’s rushed over to check on me, stopping in the doorway to the bathroom. Her shocked reflection shows in the mirror as I snip away at my straggle of chin-length curls.

The locks of hair fall away. The sink basin fills with the evidence of my hack job. I cut until I can’t cut anymore. Only a couple inches of hair remain on my scalp, my own unprofessional version of an off-the-cuff pixie cut.

Ken would be horrified. He’s always hated my hair this short and required I keep it at a minimum chin-length.

In a moment like this, it only emboldens me more. It shows more than anything that I’m really making a change this time. I’m going against his wishes and am no longer under his control…

I breathe a fresh breath into my lungs and drop the pair of shears to the counter with a clang. My fingers slip through my new short crop of hair, my eyes fixed on myself in the mirror. An immediate weight has been lifted from my shoulders; I feel unspeakably lighter.

Even if it’s just fleeting. Even if there’s still so much to process and work through.

The woman staring back at me in the mirror is different from the woman I was seconds ago.

I meet Sydney’s eyes in the reflection of the glass. “I’m ready. For real this time.”

11

KORINE

“I saw this posted on the Chop Shop’s Facebook page. I want the job if it’s still open.”

Blake’s lying beside his FXDB Street Bob parked just outside his trailer. In one hand, he holds a torque wrench; in the other, new fasteners he’s tightening onto the rear axle. At the sound of my voice, he shifts his gaze from his gleaming crimson red bike so he can watch my approach.

I’m holding out my iPhone to show him what I’m talking about, though I suspect he already knows.

He returns his gaze to his bike. “That’s not happening.”

“You know I can do just as good if not better than anybody else you hire,” I say, embellishing the confidence in my tone. It’s been a while since I’ve been confident about anything. Right now... it’s just pretend.

“Yeah, you probably would be,” he admits, twerking the wrench around. “But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. You’ve been through a lot. Take the time to rest and recover.”