Page 36

THEO

S itting on the couch, I gaze down at the journal that has now become dog eared and highlighted. I have various sticky notes attached to different pages as well, my mind racing with anger and frustration.

There are so many things that are wrong with the words inside of this journal, and I need to make a call. First, I’m going to insist on proof of life from Rachelle. Jared wasn’t fucking around about that, and I will lead the charge if necessary after everything that I’ve read today.

Rachelle should be home at her apartment getting ready to go into work, while we aren’t going in tonight. We ironically have the night off to get schoolwork and shit done.

Except, instead of doing any of that, I’ve been obsessing. I need to stir up trouble.

Me:

How about a proof of life photo?

Rachelle waits four minutes and fifty-nine seconds before she sends me a photo of her middle finger. Barking out a laugh, I look closely at her nail and notice that she painted it black with a pretty white star. It actually looks cute.

I see someone with sass, willing to push my buttons within the rules, and who did a little self care today. I’ll fucking damn well take it.

Me:

Good girl, carry on.

I imagine the strangled scream of irritation she could be indulging in right now, smirking in amusement. My smile quickly dies, though, because I have to have an uncomfortable conversation with a mafia boss now.

I need to do it while the rest of the household is busy. Jared is swimming laps in the pool and Elijah is running on the treadmill. Ready or not, this is my window.

Pressing Emil Reyes’ phone number, I make a face as I lean back on the couch and gaze at the journal balanced on my thigh as it rings.

“ Why are you calling me?” Mr. Reyes asks.

Rolling my eyes, I ask myself why I’m doing this, but press ahead because there’s something very wrong happening with Rachelle.

“Hello to you too, sir,” I say. “I’m calling because I stole Rachelle’s journal and I’m concerned.”

“ Personally, I’m concerned about your lack of care for Rachelle’s privacy, but please continue,” Mr. Reyes sighs.

“There are times when she’s really lucid in her writing but sad and others where she’ll rant about all kinds of things,” I explain. “She mentions during it that she’s taking an antipsychotic and how it makes the voices worse.”

“ Rachelle hears voices when she’s extremely depressed, and always has.

I don’t believe this is a symptom of psychosis, at least not for her,” he explains.

“ Her therapist prescribed the antipsychotic, but I told her to stop taking it. The issue is, she had to wean herself due to the dose. I told her therapist I didn’t want her taking it and that it was making her worse. ”

“There are pages of her rants,” I say honestly. “She’s not taking it anymore, but she was taking it for months before you got her off it. Are you sure this is the best person for her?”

“ Her last therapist betrayed her,” Mr. Reyes says tiredly. “ I really want to believe this one is above reproach and that he was trying to help with the information presented to him. Right now, weaning her off all of her medication isn’t an option.”

“Maybe not all of it, but it feels excessive,” I mutter. “Sometimes she sounds possessed, others as if she can’t think through the fog. How much can a person shatter before they can’t be put back together?”

“ Isn’t that the question of the century?

” Mr. Reyes asks. “ I truly believe that the only people who can put my stepdaughter back together are those who pulled her apart to begin with. I know that you used to pull the wings off of butterflies as a kid to see how long they’d live afterward.

I don’t think Rachelle will be able to survive more of that type of treatment. ”

“I’m trying not to break her anymore,” I promise. “I need to understand her more in order to help make her better.”

“ I honestly don’t believe that’s what she needs. Her pieces simply need to fit together differently. Be careful, because at some point glass simply becomes dust when crushed enough,” Mr. Reyes grunts. “ The balance has to be done just right.”

“Yes, sir,” I breathe, feeling as if he just gave me a piece to my puzzle. How much is too much pressure?

Jared said that she was getting better, and she doesn’t have any recent entries in this journal. These are her darkest days. Sometimes, I swear I can hear some of the voices that must exist in her mind when I read her words.

They’re cruel creatures who lie. She deserves some gentleness in her life, I simply don’t know if I’m capable of it.

“ You’re going to have to figure that out. If you hurt her, I will blow your brains out and not think about you again,” Emil Reyes promises.

Shit. The line disconnects and I drop the phone on the cushion as I stand. I need to know how many broken pieces it takes before they won’t fit in the same places anymore. I know that doesn’t make sense to most people, but I need to fucking see it.

Walking to the kitchen after I carefully put down the journal, I open the cabinets until I find a plate that has a pretty design on it. It’ll help me figure out where the pieces need to go. It should be easy right?

My eyes memorize how the pretty sunflower looks before I move outside to the backyard.

The pavers offer a solid surface to break shit on.

Lifting my arms, I drop the plate to the ground, watching it shatter.

Jumping up, I stomp on the pieces with my combat boots over and over again until my chest begins to heave.

Stepping back, I watch as the sun glints back on the shiny dust left behind. There’s not a hint of anything to fit back together.

“Theo?” Calvin asks.

I can feel Jared’s gaze on me from inside of the pool before he twists away to dive to the bottom to sit until his lungs beg for oxygen. He’s been doing that more and more lately, and one day I worry I’m going to have to jump in after him.

The quiet he finds from being underwater is addicting. Elijah and I know that’s why he is obsessed with swimming, though he’s never told us that.

“I do believe this one isn’t salvageable,” I say thickly.

“Do you wish to try again?” he asks.

Calvin never judges, despite how oddly we behave at times, and I appreciate it.

“Please,” I breathe, gazing down at the ground. It has been a long time since I’ve felt any emotion the way normal people do, but the back of my eyes burn. “I’ll clean this up, I just need a dust pan.”

A moment later, something is pushed into my hand, and I drop into a squat to clean up my mess. The shimmer of dust is almost pretty, but it’s not what I’m going for.

After dropping four more plates, I stare at the ground, examining the jagged edges of the glass, wondering how they’ll fit back together. Without asking, Calvin hands me a square section of cardboard and a bottle of glue, and I fall to the ground to get to work.

Working to put the glass pieces back together, I still can’t. Instead, I get a Frankenstein type of design. Rachelle has been broken for a long time. What if her strength lies in building something better instead of trying to fit into spaces she’s outgrown.

They’re pretty thoughts, but all I have for now. I’ll have to see if I can put them into practice.

LILIANA

I know Rachelle worked last night, but she has a couple of days off starting today. I pay close attention to her schedule, because I want to steal her away without any distractions.

Knocking on her apartment door, I check my watch, wondering if she’s eaten yet.

If she hasn’t, I’ll make us both breakfast because I’m starving after my run this morning.

It’s been almost a week since the guys chased her through the streets, and while we’ve texted and called each other, I haven’t had a chance to see her.

I’ve had class and work get in the way unfortunately.

The door opens very slowly before her gaze meets mine. Rachelle relaxes slightly as she slides the bolt free and pulls it open wide. Holding up her finger to show she’s on the phone, she waves me inside, her hands shaking slightly.

Curious as to who she’s speaking to, I walk inside and lock us in. Rachelle hits the mute button on her phone, appearing annoyed with the person she’s speaking to.

“You can listen as long as you’re quiet,” she says softly. At my nod, she puts the phone on speaker and removes the muted feature. “Yes, I’m still here, Dr. Michaels.”

“I’m concerned, Rachel ,” he says. “ Jumping out the window to evade three men trying to break into your apartment feels like an exaggeration.”

My jaw drops as I follow Rachelle to the couch and sit next to her.

“As they’re the same men who buried me alive, I can assure you that it is not,” Rachelle says coldly. I am confused about what’s going on here. “I also am not prone to hallucinations.”

“ No, at least not lately,” Dr. Michaels murmurs. “ Does your stepfather know about this?”

“He does, and he also spoke to them,” she says, rolling her eyes.

The fact that she has to work this hard to convince him of something this simple is annoying to me.

“ You sound upset,” he says mildly, and I have to swallow my fucking growl. “ Are you going to work?”

“Yes, they’re actually my bosses. I know we’ve discussed this already as well,” Rachelle says grimly.

“I am not quitting, and my stepfather also agrees with me. You asked me about how work has been, as well as the events of the last few days. They are no different than when you asked me the day after it happened.”

Oh fuck no. She told him all of this and he’s making her repeat it to see if the details are different? My hand palms one of my knives, wishing it was possible to yank someone through the phone to stab them.

“ I see,” Dr. Michaels says with a sigh. “ How are you sleeping? You sound tired.”

“A few hours at a time and then I’m wide awake. I don’t sleep well alone,” she says.

Her hand reaches out to sit on top of mine, reminding me to breathe.

“ And you slept better when you were at Lili’s house ?

” he asks. My heart soars at the fact that they’ve talked about me before plummeting at his next words.

“ Do you think that you should be jumping into a relationship right now, Rachel? You said you were there with Lili and your stepbrother who was recently released from prison. He’s an ex-convict . ”

“And?” she asks. “I don’t care about that.”

“ This is your future, and you’re in a fragile place in your life, ” he reminds her. “ Dating anyone right now would be a mistake.”

Dr. Michaels continues in this vein, and Rachelle rises as she begins to pace. She’ll intermittently listen before interjecting a comment here or there. I told her I’d be quiet, but I’m getting more and more antsy as I listen to him attempt to pull apart everything that she says.

It’s a combination of gaslighting and almost well meaning logic to confuse her. I’m unsure of what he’s trying to achieve except to isolate her.

“Come on. You told me to get a job, and my bosses are the Kings!” she finally exclaims, annoyed.

“I’m not a child. I’m fully capable of making decisions despite your efforts to pull the logic out of them.

Part of my homework is to learn how to stick by my decisions, irrespective of your feelings about them.

It doesn’t matter if I’m dating one, two, or five people. ”

“ Five,” he gasps as I roll my eyes. Ugh, this man is completely impossible.

“Yes, five. At this time, I no longer believe you have my best interests at heart,” Rachelle says firmly.

“I’m firing you as my therapist and I am going to find a new doctor to look over my current medication and revise it if necessary.

I’m throwing the Haldol down the toilet.

I do not need nor want it in my apartment. ”

“ I think you’re being reactive,” Dr. Michaels soothes as I wrinkle my nose. I really dislike the way he’s speaking to her. “ Dating five people at once is much too complicated for you. Not to mention giving them any sort of chance after what they did. You’ve come so far.”

“I’m well aware of everything I’ve gone through,” she says.

“My life is complicated, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to find closure without finding out what their motivation was for burying me alive that night.

I need this. My stepfather agrees. If you dislike it, take it up with him. Good bye.”

Hanging up, she drops the phone on the table in disgust.

“We’ve been on the phone for two hours before you came over,” she groans. “I’m so tired of talking.”

“Come here,” I say softly.

Rachelle walks over and flops onto the couch, resting her head in my lap. My fingers run through her hair, and I can feel her body beginning to relax. There’s so much tension inside of it, though I probably wouldn’t have handled the call she just had with as much grace as she did.

A few minutes later, her eyes begin to droop and she drifts to sleep. Frowning, I decide food can wait while she rests. I’m not happy that she’s not sleeping. While I have been resisting moving her into my house, I don’t think I can hold out anymore.

Me:

Her therapist is a dick, sir.

Mr. Emil:

He’s supposed to be the best, but he’s not helping her. I’m going to have to fire him.

Me:

Don’t bother, Rachelle already did. She’s asleep.

There’s a long pause, so I do what any self respecting girl would do: I send him a photo of her sleeping in my lap.

Mr. Emil:

She told me a few days ago that her sleeping medication isn’t working and she doesn’t want to take it anymore. It’s somehow interrupting her natural sleep pattern.

Me:

Will it be an issue for her to simply stop? I know some of them she needs to titrate off of. Ignacio has been researching her medications.

Mr. Emil:

Of course my son is doing that. Where is he anyway?

Me:

He’s running down a lead he found. Probably doing some eavesdropping on a drug runner, knowing him. Her therapist was browbeating her about dating an ex-convict, sir.

Knowing that he’ll know who I’m talking about, I wait for his indignation.

Mr. Emil:

We both know that’s semantics. I didn’t think Dr. Michaels was so close minded. That’s unfortunate.

Me:

She told him that she wanted to find a doctor to reevaluate all of her medication.

Mr. Emil:

That’s not a bad idea. I’ll begin looking into that. My luck hasn’t been the best though. Are you spending the day with her?

Me:

Yes. I may even take her home with me.

Mr. Emil:

You’d have my blessing.

Tossing my phone away, I drop my head back and decide to take a nap. I’ll simply make her lunch instead. Today, I’m going to indulge myself by not restricting my life to a schedule. I’ll cross any hurdles regarding her being able to leave her apartment later.

For now, my eyes close and block out the world and self serving dick weeds.