Tank (Moonshine Task Force Book 2)(47)
“Oh babe,” he sighs.
“Yeah,” I tilt the corners of my mouth up. “She got a tattoo that year and they said at twenty-eight she was too old to be doing that type of thing. But she got it where no one could see it, ya know? On her back so it could be covered unless she was wearing a bikini. While she was at the tattoo parlor, she ran into a friend of our family. Jake was the son of one of my dad’s business partners, and he was a lot like her. They both loved to rebel. Neither one of them wanted to be stifled by the lifestyle our parents liked to lead. At twenty-eight years old, my sister fell in love for the first time,” I continue to pace, but now I look at Trevor.
“Why do I get the feeling this is the beginning of the end?” He asks.
I want to answer him and tell him it’s not. To tell him it was the beginning of an absolutely beautiful relationship that goes on today away from everyone, but I fucking can’t.
“Jake was the love of her life, but it didn’t stop her weird mood swings. He had them too, actually.” I stop for a second. “What Jake did was introduce her to a way of dealing with them. Jake was a hardcore drug user. Within two years of being with him, she lost sixty pounds and was skin and bones. My parents didn’t know what to do for her, so they wrote her off. Me? I couldn’t,” I fight the tears again. “No matter how many times she hurt and disappointed me, I couldn’t let her go,” I put my hands up on my head, clasping my fingers together.
“That’s not unusual, babe. You know as well as I do – it’s hard.”
“It’s impossible if it’s your family,” I argue with him. “Completely and totally impossible. One day she called me and asked me to come meet her. Mom and Dad had cut her off of the family money, but even at fifteen I had a debit and credit card. My driver picked her up, and we drove to Birmingham where I withdrew two thousand dollars from my account and gave it all to her. After that we went to this horrible neighborhood. She had me wait out in the car. My driver kept asking if I wanted to leave, and I did Trevor, I wanted to leave her there because I was so scared.”
“You probably should have.”
“What happened next I will never forget in my life. She came out of the house and got back in the car. I told the driver to take us back to Laurel Springs. I felt dirty and knew I’d never be able to do this for her again. I had to stop enabling her, and none of this felt good. We got on I-65 and she was okay for the next twenty minutes or so. She told me, ‘It’s not working the way I need it to, Daphne. I need more now.’ I didn’t know what that meant, Trevor, I swear to God.”
“Of course not,” he’s still keeping his distance, almost like he’s afraid to come too close. “You had absolutely no idea what it meant.”
“I watched her pull out a tourniquet and a syringe. I started screaming, asking her what the hell she was doing, and she said the most horrible things to me. About how I was the favorite child, and she was a throwaway, and the only reason she put up with me was because I gave her money. It was so painful to hear her talk to me that way. And back then, when I got hurt, I hurt the other person back. It’s what my parents taught me to do, it’s what they did to one another. I told her have fun killing herself then, because that’s what would happen.”
“Shit,” he closes his eyes, devastation written all over his face. Devastation for me, devastation for her, I’m not sure which.
“Yeah,” I answer, feeling the fresh wash of shame I always do when I think about that day. “She was shooting up, and I was so mad and hurt, I didn’t pay attention at first when I heard the noise. To be fair, I didn’t understand what the noise was. When I glanced at her, she was slumped over, her eyes open, stuff coming from her mouth. The syringe was sticking out of her arm still. I didn’t know what to do. Back then I had no idea what Narcan was, didn’t even learn about how it reverses the effects of an overdose until I was an EMT, I was helpless as I yelled to the driver. Cellphones were a newer thing, and I had one, but the ambulance didn’t get there in time. She died in the backseat of that car, with me sitting next to her.”
I finally let him take me in his arms, and I cry like I’ve never cried for Annabelle. I’ve kept it in for so long, and telling him about the situation releases a dam that’s been holding back all these feelings. I sob against his chest as he holds me tightly, promising me it’s okay to break down, to feel the way I do. I pull back, mopping up my tears from my face.
“We found out later she was bipolar, and she wasn’t medicated. My parents knew it, and they encouraged her to not be medicated – they didn’t want anyone to know. How crazy is that? They’d rather her be a drug addict than have a mental illness. To this day, I’m not sure I’ve ever forgiven them. I went through life in a haze for the next year, until something clicked. They acted like Annabelle had never even been in our lives, and I wanted them to see her every time they looked at me. I wanted them to be reminded of what they did to her. If they had pushed her to get help and treatment, she’d probably still be alive today.”
“What happened to Jake?” he asks, pushing my hair back from my face.
“Died the same way she did, except he was alone in the bed they shared. I swore to myself I’d be able to help the next person I saw who needed it. It’s one hundred percent why I became a paramedic, why I don’t take my tests to get out of the bus. It would take a lot for me not to do it anymore, Trevor. It’s so personal to me, and when you asked me to quit, I just couldn’t. I can’t.”