Page 38
Story: Whiskey Scars
BLUEISH BLACK stretched from the corner of my eye to the edge of my cheek bone. It hurt to blink, let alone pat concealer over the area. When I smeared the creamy substance over the puffiest part, I winced and inhaled so I wouldn’t cry out.
Applying makeup with my left hand proved more difficult than I imagined. A cast prevented me from using my dominant hand. “This must be a dream. Right?” If my entire body didn’t hurt, I might have thought so.
Cody didn’t want to see me without my makeup applied perfectly. I knew if I didn’t follow his request—demand, really—punishment would be imminent.
Once skin is bruised, it hurts ten-fold when it’s hit again. So, I endured the sharp pain behind my eye which pulsed with every beat of my heart. An Oxy called to me from my top dresser drawer, who was I to ignore my dear friend?
I popped one pill and looked up to find a stranger reflected in the mirror above my dresser. New bruises dotted my skin, so I slid my dress to the floor and took inventory. I turned back and forth to capture the enormity of the beating.
Four purple fingerprints wrapped around the back of both of my upper arms; I didn’t remember how he had shaken me like a ragdoll until that moment. How had I missed those?
Face, arms, neck. I turned. Kidney? The stairs left scrapes on my shins and the palms of my hands as I slid down them.
I popped a second pill. I was surprised that my chin hadn’t been damaged from falling down the concrete steps face first. My right arm snapped in the process.
That was a first. He’d never broken a bone in all the time …
My thoughts stopped as I realized how ridiculous it had been to allow the abuse to keep happening.
Yes, allow. I did this to me just as much as he did.
I stayed. But I can’t leave; where would I go?
Where could I go? Can I get away from him?
Would he hunt me down if I just walked away? Yes. Definitely.
I lowered my chin, closed my eyes, and sat on the bed. Shit.
FOR A WEEK after my “tumble” as Cody called it, I didn’t go to work.
He treated the “incident” as if I had fallen down the steps because I hadn’t figured out how to walk.
My boss had been very understanding about the half-truth I spun about breaking my arm.
When I did return to the bar, Brian welcomed me with open arms. Literally.
His hug struck me as genuine, even though I winced at the soreness of my torso; he truly cared about my well-being. “Do whatever you’re comfortable doing. Don’t lift anything with that hand, don’t do dishes, don’t put any stress on that bone. Can you write with your left hand?”
“My memory will have to carry me through; luckily, I don’t really need to write much down.
I’m sure I can use the cast as a way to cover if I forget.
” Getting back into the familiar groove gave me a sense of belonging.
Regular customers made me smile as they waved on their way to a table they claimed as “theirs.”
Something still felt off, though. Like someone was watching me all the time. I found myself looking over my shoulder and tried to hide my discomfort. A chill ran up my spine as I turned to greet a couple. “Hi there. So nice to see you again, Layla. Dan. What can I get you to start?”
“Kennedy. Oh my gosh, what happened to your arm?”
If they only knew, I’m positive they wouldn’t have asked. “Oh, my clumsy ass tripped and slid down my stairs.” I chuckled at Cody’s explanation. “Apparently, I haven’t figured out how to walk yet.” A smirk and eyeroll made it believable.
The first day back passed faster than I thought it would. Customers kept me busy with chit-chat between running to and from the kitchen. Late in my shift, as I took an order from a tourist couple, I sensed someone looking at me. The hair stood up on the back of my neck.
When I turned to take the order to the cook, Cody grinned at me from a chair at the bar.
His eyes were so void of emotion, I almost tripped over my own feet.
Maybe he was right: I was just clumsy. A frown covered my face as I checked the time.
The clock read seven fifteen; I still had two hours left in my shift. Why is he here?
Brian greeted Cody, who glared at him for no reason. On his way through the double doors to the kitchen, he lifted his chin in my direction.
I rounded the bar and smiled at my husband as if everything had been normal. “Hey, I didn’t realize you had come in. You hungry?”
He nodded.
I kissed his cheek. “I need to put this order in real quick. Be back in a minute.”
His stare burned a hole in my back as I walked away. Without making eye contact with any of the staff, I fulfilled my duties behind the counter, paused to take a deep breath, then joined Cody at the bar. “What would you like me to get for you?”
“I’ll take you on the bathroom sink.” Cody’s eyes glistened. He was serious. “You’re not wearing panties, are you?”
I responded the only way I knew would keep him from getting angry. I acted flirty. “Oh, Cody. You’re so bad.” With a smile and a pat on the knee, I rounded the bar and poured him a water. “I’ll get you an olive burger. You wanna eat at the bar?”
“Sure, babe.”
His eyes followed my every step. It was almost impossible to ignore, and I found myself changing my attitude with the customers.
Happy-go-lucky and carefree, almost flirty, turned into carefully chosen words and minimal smiles.
I had to be sure not to laugh, otherwise Cody would know how much I enjoyed being somewhere other than with him.
God forbid I like to learn about other people’s experiences.
On the few nights he showed up for dinner, I could expect a ride home.
Even if he did intend to surprise me and possibly catch me doing something wrong, the need to not have to walk home was a nice change.
After he finished his meal, he let the silverware clank on the plate to get my attention.
“You’re going to need to walk home tonight.
Friends from Anchorage are coming over to welcome me back to Alaska.
“Oh.” I shrugged. “Okay.” Relieved he would be leaving soon so I could drop my charade, I offered my best fake smile. “Not a problem. It’s supposed to a little cold tonight, but I'm sure I’ll survive.” Wondering out loud, I asked, “Which friends?”
“None of your fucking business.” He stood and left without paying the bill.
Stunned, I looked from right to left hoping no one was within earshot. I stood in place long after he left not believing he would say such a thing in public. Usually, he waited until no one was around to be a complete asshole. What if someone had heard him? What did I say?
Brian called me from the kitchen. “Kennedy, would you please come here for a minute?” He led the way to his office and closed the door behind me.
I thought for sure I had just lost my job; my stomach sank.
“I’ve watched your interaction with customers today, and you seem to be nervous. Is that the right word? Like you’re expecting something bad to happen.” He paused, probably expecting me to respond. “Is everything okay?”
Refusing to meet his eyes, I played with my apron string. “I’m just getting back into the swing of things, is all.”
His gentle touch on my shoulder made me jump and he pursed his lips. “I watched how you acted when Cody came in. I have to be honest, Kennedy. I don’t know if I believe that you just fell down some stairs.”
“I’m …” Pressured to tell the truth but terrified at the same time, I raised my eyes to meet his, hoping he would know. Just know.
“If you need help, Kennedy,” he took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Please just ask.”
I froze. What if Cody found out? He’d kill me. My heartbeat increased at the realization of how true those words rang. I had to catch my breath and forced tears from forming.
He could kill me, couldn’t he? How can I get away from him? Would my mom help me? Probably not, Cody was right: she always told me I was just in the way. What am I going to do?
MUSIC BLARED from the inside of our trailer, and I cringed. I had not been in the mood for a party, but there I was. Without a choice but to enter, I took a pill to chill my attitude.
Cody’s welcome home party had started. His friends were strangers to me, and I didn’t know what to expect. Smoke rolled out the door as I walked inside. Surrounded by a cloud, I waved my hands in front of my face as if walking through a spiderweb.
Two large men blocked my view as I took note of all the people in my house.
Four men sat on the edge of the couch cushions, staring at something on the coffee table.
One of them leaned forward and put a rolled-up dollar bill to his nose.
No way . I had never seen anyone do coke. Who the hell are these people?
Four women danced in the small spaces between furniture, three of them smoking cigarettes and laughing. The other one held a bottle of vodka and looked wasted; she stumbled instead of moving as gracefully as her friends.
Unattended steak burned on the stove. I turned off the burner. Dishes littered the kitchen counter and spilled into the sink. Pizza boxes stacked on the floor beside the overflowing garbage can and pans filled with grease sat on top of the stove. I had just cleaned the house before my shift.
Disgusted by the filthy people inside my filthy home, I shuddered. “Cody?” He wasn’t in sight, so I put my purse in the only open space on the kitchen counter and went to search for him in our bedroom. I found him.
When I opened the door, I covered my mouth with my hand to hide the gasp. A naked woman straddled my husband; her head was tilted back, and she moaned louder than I thought was necessary. Stunned, I just stood there and watched her grind her hips. I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Cody?”
He pushed her off him and pulled on a pair of jeans. “How’d you get home so fast?”
That’s his response? Not even some bullshit excuse like “it’s not what you think”? The hallway seemed to never end, I just wanted to escape.
Cody snatched my arm before I could reach the door. My bicep ached under his grip. He spun me around, his nose almost touched mine. “Answer me.” Spit hit my cheek; his breath smelled of sex. I almost gagged.
“Brian dropped me off.” Embarrassed by how he talked to me in front of his friends, people I had never met, I could barely speak.
“I told you to walk.”
I found a bit of courage through the pill I had taken and retorted. “I’m wearing a dress and heels.” For the only time in my life, I fought back.
Table of Contents
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- Page 38 (Reading here)
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