ENEMIES(50)

An idea took hold standing in the kitchen. Stone liked when my mom baked for us. So, going into his kitchen, that’s what I was going to do. It started first with spying a pile of cookbooks in the pantry. I’d been in there looking for water, only realizing later the water would probably be in the fridge, but maybe it was fate. Within an hour, I was sitting in the middle of a stack of fourteen cookbooks.

I couldn’t believe Stone had these, and I really couldn’t believe he had them stashed away in a corner. Why not use them if you were going to have them? Then I stilled, opening one. First page.

To Stone, I know how much you liked that birthday cake I made for your seventh birthday. Here’s the recipe for it. Page 147. — Sherry I looked at the next.

Another note.

Stone, those cookies you devoured with Dusty for Halloween that one year you were in fourth and she was in third, the recipe is on page 67. — Sherry And a third.

Stone, I’m breaking tradition here. I know you liked my baked goods, but I couldn’t resist. Remember the sloppy joes that you raved about? I made them for Dusty’s tenth birthday. The recipe is on page 183. — Sherry I looked through a fourth, a fifth.

Sixth.

Seventh.

My heart was pounding, then dropping, until I got to the last cookbook. Every single one of them. All from my mother. Each with a note written from — Sherry.

Why?

Why did she do this?

But the note on the last one had me doing a double-take.

Stone,

I know you’re off to do great things in your future. I know you feel badly about slighting my daughter. I’ve come to enjoy our Saturday morning grocery trips, but this is going to be my last note to you. I’m dying and you’re officially the first to know, though you won’t get this book till after I’m gone.

I have loved you as my own son, and I know Dusty still cares about you. I have a wish for you. If you are ever in a situation where my daughter needs help, please be there for her. She’s the silent trooper. She suffers in silence and she doesn’t think I can tell. I do. And I know life has ups and downs, and you both will have challenges. Please reach out. Please care for each other. Please don’t let this thing between your mother and my husband keep you away.

Life is short. Live. Forgive.

I will be watching over both you and Dusty.

— All the love, Sherry

All the love.

All. The. Love.

I read those words over and over and over and over. I lost track how many times I read them.

I knew she cared for Stone. I knew there’d been a special relationship, but this was more. This was so much more than I thought it was, and it cut me. It cut me deep.

He hadn’t even lied to me. I was replaying when I asked him why he was helping me, and he said it. Point-blank. Because of my mom, because he cared for her. Here was the proof. She cared for him back. And my dad and his mom?

What the hell? Again.

What. The. Hell?

Thoughts were flashing in my mind. Bad thoughts. Miserable thoughts.

Like, why’d she have to go?

Why’d he have to go?

Why’d they have to drive on that road? At that time of night? Why’d the deer have to choose to cross the road at that exact second?

Was it me?

Was I cursed?

Did everyone I love have to be taken from me?

My insides were twisting all in a knot, then being knotted again, and again. Bent over, my forehead to the ground, I rocked in a fetal position. Every one of those questions plaguing me, laughing at me, being screamed in my head, taunting me.

It was me.

I was the problem.

I was the connection.

They loved me, and they all died.

I had to go.

Standing.

I put the cookbooks back where they were, and I had one thought. Leave. I had to leave. I wasn’t a pity project. I felt Stone’s loathing last night. I knew it was still in him, and now it was back and raging inside of me. It hadn’t quite left me.

Fuck him.

I was done.

I could do this. Fuck everything.

Numb. I’d go numb. And I’d keep going. That’s what I’d do, and one day, I had to hope—one day it would be better. I would be so used to the pain that I’d almost think it wasn’t there. That day was my goal to get to.

I went and packed.

I had a goal in mind. I had motivation. It helped, knowing you had to do something in order to survive. Your focus suddenly became crystal clear. I didn’t have a ton of stuff here, but my books were the heaviest. I left half my clothes behind. They didn’t fit in my bag.

Leaving, I put the code in and hauled ass. I wasn’t sure what would set the system off, but I got out of the garage and there was no angry alarm going off, so that was one feat accomplished. The gate was next. I had no clue how to open it, so I tossed my bag up and over, then I climbed. I went slow, but I got there.

Once over, I pulled my phone and ordered an Uber.

The Uber pulled up.

I got in and I just wanted to get as far away as possible.





Chapter Twenty-Two





The voices woke me.

My fan wasn’t on, and while they weren’t yelling or raised, I could still hear them.

Maybe it was because my body had been waiting, or maybe I was more rested because of the concussion. Either way, when I woke, I rolled over. It was around eleven that night, so maybe the group was back from partying or Stone was here. I was prepared for both.