Taking Turns (Turning #1)(103)
“I’m sorry, Smith. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how f*cked up I am.”
“It’s all right. I’m not mad. Not even close. But I do want to know what happened. Because… Chella, you are the center of my world now. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. But you are. I’m kind of a dick when I don’t get my way. And I like to be in control and call the shots. And there’s no changing my mind once I’ve made it up. So you’re stuck with me.”
I don’t know what to say. “I know you want an answer, but I’m not there yet. I have no answers. That’s why I’m here. I’m doing my best to figure out what the f*ck is wrong with me.”
“Why us?” he says. “How could we possibly be your answer? We are three very f*cked-up men who share a girl like she’s candy. We play with her emotions and pull her in every direction we can think of, until she goes crazy and leaves. I just…” He stops for a moment. “I just really didn’t think we were doing that with you. But I guess I was wrong. I’m the one who’s sorry, Chella. I think we’re the ones who f*cked you up.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight - Smith
“You’re not,” she says.
“Then tell me what happened. You blacked out, Chella. You were talking crazy. Screaming not to stop. Yelling and making promises to be good. What the f*ck was that all about?”
She’s quiet. For a long time. I am just about to give in to sleep when she finally says something.
“My life was a secret like yours.”
“Where did you go? And don’t tell me some bullshit answer about church.”
She’s quiet again. But then she takes in a deep breath and says, “I’ve been seeing a doctor for seven years.”
“Why?” I ask, sitting up in bed so she has to sit up too. I need to see her face for this. I can’t miss a moment of it.
“I’m…” She shakes her head. “I’m… sick.”
I grab her face and hold it tight. “How? How are you sick?”
“I’m broken. In the head, that’s all, Smith.”
She tries to get up, but I grab her hand. More roughly than I intend, but I’m not letting her walk out now. “You don’t get to say that and leave, Chella. Fuck that. You’re not leaving until you tell me what’s happening to you.”
“I’m sick,” she says, loudly. “OK? I’m sorry, but I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“The f*ck you don’t,” I say. “I love you, dammit. And if you’re sick and need help, then I’m gonna make sure you get it and get better.”
“You can’t fix me,” she yells. “No one can fix me but me.” She yanks her hand away and this time I let her go.
“Tell me why you came here,” I say as I watch her go into the closet and start getting dressed.
“To f*ck you, Smith,” she says. Trying her best to be mean. “I came to f*ck you. And your friends, OK?” She pulls a pair of jeans on and then stops to look at me. “Does that make it all better? Because that’s the truth. I knew who you were. I knew what you guys did with Rochelle. She and I planned it.”
“What?” Quin asks from the bedroom door.
I had no idea they were still here, but they are. Bric is standing behind Quin, shaking his head at me. Let her go, he mouths. Don’t do this. Not now.
I’m going to listen to him. I have every intention of listening to him. But Quin…
“What the f*ck did you and Rochelle plan, Chella? I think you owe me an answer.”
Chella is pulling on a sweater now. “Why don’t you ask Bric why she left? Remember when you told me you thought Smith paid her off? To get her to leave?”
“What?” It’s my turn to be confused now. “I never did that.”
“I know,” Chella says, slipping her feet into some shearling boots. I’m suddenly having a flashback to the first night we found her. “Bric did.”
Quin spins around. “Is that true?”
“Look—”
“Answer me, *,” Quin yells. “Did you tell her leave? Did you pay her off?”
“He didn’t pay her off,” Chella says. “He gave her an ultimatum.”
“What ultimatum?” Quin pushes Bric back with two hands to his chest. “What did you f*cking tell her?”
“He told her to get an abortion,” Chella says, grabbing her purse. “That’s what he told her.”
And then she pushes both of them out of the doorway and walks off.
I jump out of bed and follow her down the hall.
Bric follows me, silent. But Quin follows both of us, asking about… f*ck, I can’t even process it. I only care about where the f*ck Chella is going.
“How do you know this?” He’s screaming by the time we all get out onto the hallway. “How, Chella? You said you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t.” She whirls around, her long hair flying out in all directions. “Until yesterday. We saw the same sex therapist, Quin. And I went in for an appointment to tell her about our plans for last night and she gave me an update on Rochelle because we were in therapy together and she felt I needed to know before I…” Chella stops talking, looking conflicted. “Before I took this final step with you guys. So she told me why she left.” She points at Bric. “And he’s why. She got pregnant, Quin. And she went to Bric for advice because she didn’t know whose baby it was. Yours or his. And he told her to get an abortion. So there. You’ve got your answer. Now you have no excuse not to go find her.”