Broken Girl(64)

I kept watching Martie’s reaction. Call it morbid, but I wanted to see her grieve. Cry as hard as I did when I lost the only person who accepted me as family. But her reaction was unemotional, nothing, like the whole process of burying Sybil was extremely inconvenient. Hunched over, next to her was an older man with a crooked back. He was thin and drawn, looked like he was too fragile for his old worn bones to carry his body. He held Martie’s hand and the hand of an equally frail woman seated on the other side of him. I assumed this was all that was left of Sybil’s family. Each of them carried the same stoic expression, as if they were burdened with a daughter and a sister who lost herself to a lifestyle choice that rattled them to their very core and spiked them through their hearts with ice-cold reserve. I know that people grieve in their own way, but these people looked like they were incapable of showing any form of compassion.

I should be standing there grieving for Sybil, not them. Why did death have to be so cold? All death had to do was walk away and leave me to grieve. But death wasn’t simple, it was heartless. It gutted you and drained your veins until they were dry.

I looked back over at Martie and watched as her demeanor changed. Her attention shifted to the grove of Cypress trees across the way. A glint caught in her eyes just about the same time a tiny smirk rolled across her face. I looked over following her gaze straight to the cause of her new-found expression.

What.

The.

Fuck.

As if God didn’t punish me enough, there he was, Shane. He had come here for Martie. Every broken piece of who I was shattered all over again. Forget the idea that I was willing or able to show my face now. There was no way I was going to go up there, look like a damn fool, in front of them. My goodbye, saved for only Sybil, will have to wait until she’s buried six feet under.

“Let’s go, start up the car and head out. I don’t want to go over there. This was a big mistake Key, I shouldn’t have come.”

“What are you talkin’ ‘bout? You and aye are goin’ up there.”

“No, Briggs, really, I think I’ll just come back when nobody’s here. Less chance of a confrontation.”

“Rosie, I ain’t leavin’. If you don’t want to go up there right now, we’ll wait until tey leave. Me and you ‘re gonna wait.”

There was no way Briggs was going to let me win on this, he was just as stubborn as I was when it came to shit like this. So I just watched in agony as Martie slipped away from Sybil’s burial to go be with Shane.

Briggs didn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, Aye, sweet’art now I know why. Tat’s your beau,” he said as he tilted his head and thrust his chin out to the scene between Martie and Shane.

“No, he’s not mine and I don’t wanna talk about it,” I answered.

“Tat’s the guy! He’s the one that chased you through the hospit’l, aye?”

“Yeah, but—”

“He’s the same guy me keeps seein’ down in the district, prowlin’ around,” he added.

His words soaked into my head, but didn’t register right away. I wanted to argue with him, make him see that nothing made that man mine.

“He manages a laundromat down there, he isn’t prowlin’ the Tenderloin. Besides, he’s got that!” I tossed my hands forward pointing to Martie, who has now successfully wrapped herself around Shane’s body.

“I know exactly who that is. Look, that right there isn’t actions of a man who’s in love wit’ her. I’m tellin’ you, when he’s down in the belly of the Tenderloin, aye, sweet’art, tat lad is lookin’ to find you. He’s in love wit’ you.”

“Now, I know you’ve lost it. I’m completely aware of the feelings that boy has for me, but trust me, it can never happen. Ever.”

“Why? Give me one goot’ reason?” Briggs faced me, his eyes burned into my profile. I kept staring straight ahead, even if it was breaking what was left of me to watch her pull Shane over to Sybil’s grave.

I took a deep breath, hoping to catch the courage that was seeping from my lungs before I glanced at Briggs.

“Because of who I am, Key. I sell my body, to cheap-ass horny men. As much as I wish he’d be able to see past my scars, he won’t. And just like every time before, every moment I get some type of hope, it f*cking fails me, and I’m crushed all over again. Trust me, it’s better this way.” My words pricked my skin just like they did the last time I said them. But it was the truth, it was me and I was it.

I looked out over the rolling grassy hills and the scene playing out in front of me between Martie, her family and Shane.

“We all have scars. You and me, our scars run deeper than most. Us two, we’re more alike than you care to admit. We keep pushin’ people away ‘cause we’re scared to let them see our weakness. Tat we actually have a heart and tat it’s lonely. I know you well, Rosie, I see me’self in you a lot. And the t’ing is, the only t’ing we’re gonna get from pushing people away, is tired. I’m tired Rosie, and I t’ink you are too. You deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah, well, that right there, that ain’t my happy . . . that right there’s nothing but a broken heart, trust me.” I slipped my hand down the side of the passenger seat and pulled the lever, lowering the back of my seat so I didn’t have to watch Shane and Martie pierce what little dignity I had left. Maybe, I just wanted to cuddle with the humiliation as I clung to it like a child who carried around a security blanket, that way I wouldn’t forget how painful it was to love someone I couldn’t have.