Losers: Part I

Everything felt perfect…at least, it did until the next day.

We stayed out late that night, the five of us stopping for dinner at a nearby bar and grill to celebrate Jason’s victory. Vincent bought him a shot, then I did, and we kept going until we’d gotten Jason completely blasted.

I’d been a little tipsy myself by the time we left, but I could remember Jason grabbing me before he got into the Bronco, slurring slightly when he said, “You know, you’re beautiful…so fucking beautiful…most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m so glad you came.”

Those words had stayed with me long after they’d dropped me off at home, sitting like a little ball of light within me. Something had changed yesterday, something important. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it made me feel more hopeful than I had in a long time.

Except now, I had to deal with my mother.

“This is unacceptable, Jessica, do you hear me? Unacceptable!”

She had started on me first thing in the morning. I’d managed to fend her off during work, but now that I was done, she’d launched straight back into her tirade. Telling her the boys were “just friends” had done nothing other than make her start lamenting my terrible taste in friends and how my “standards” had fallen so low.

“You have friends,” she insisted. “Friends who aren’t criminals, who aren’t trying to take advantage of a beautiful young woman.”

My sister had already fled the scene, and even my dad had quietly crept away, probably to hide in his office. Cowards. Why was I always expected to be the bigger person here, to deal with this by myself?

“Whatever happened to Danielle?” Mom said, her eyes wide as she looked at me from her big cushy chair in the living room. “Or Candace, or Vanessa?”

“Vanessa moved to Kentucky,” I said, purposefully avoiding discussing the other two women she’d mentioned. “Look, I know you don’t like them, and you don’t have to. But they’re not dangerous. Don’t act like I’m some naïve little girl.”

“Oh, honey, that’s exactly what you’re acting like.” She had her wine glass cupped between her fingers, and she took a large sip before she said, “You know better than this. You used to tell me those boys were creeps, that they were always getting into trouble. Good grief, Jessica, were the assaults they committed not enough for you? What happened to your sense?”

“Mom, they are literally fixing my car,” I said. “I can’t avoid them. I’m not going to try to avoid them.”

“Avoid them…” She scoffed. “You sat your butt down in that man’s car without a second of hesitation. You are far beyond them only being your mechanics.” Her eyes narrowed. “Sweet Jesus, please don’t tell me you’re sleeping with one of them.”

Mom didn’t used to be like this, but things had changed as I’d gotten older. When I was little, I was her perfect little “Jessie Sunshine,” a doll she could dress up in sparkly dresses and big bows. I was a chronic high achiever who couldn’t fail to make her proud, and when I did, it was devastating.

But a teenager wasn’t a cute little doll you could play dress-up with. Once I started gaining independence and making my own decisions, Mom lost her perfect toy and had to start finding other ways to remain in control. Shame, guilt, relentless nagging…

The years I’d spent away at college hadn’t made her loosen her chokehold. She was only squeezing tighter, as if she knew how fragile her control was.

She’d taught me to accept nothing less than perfection, to be bold no matter what. Why did it surprise her when I used those same traits to make my own decisions?

“Mom, you need to stop.” I tried to keep my voice as reasonable as possible. The screaming matches we’d have when I was a teenager had been completely unhinged, and I didn’t want to hit that level again. But it seemed as if the calmer I was, the more upset she got. Like she wasn’t getting the reaction she wanted.

“Oh, I see.” The sarcasm dripped thickly into her words. “I’m the bad guy now. I’m the villain for looking out for my daughter’s safety. Well, I’ll tell you one thing, Jessica Marie Martin.” She leaned forward in her chair, manicured fingernails spread on the table. “I will not have them coming to my house. If they show up here again, I’ll call the police.”

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “No, you won’t. You’re not going to call the cops on them just for showing up on a public street. That’s ludicrous.”

“Excuse me? What did you say to me?”

Abruptly, I got up from the couch. This argument was never going to end if I didn’t get out of here. “You’re not going to call the police, and you’re not going to dictate who I spend time with. I’m done with this.”

“Well, I’m not done, Jessica. Don’t walk away from me!”

But she couldn’t stop me. I grabbed my phone, slamming the front door and putting a blessed stop to her arguing. God, some days I couldn’t stand her. It tore me apart, because for so long, I’d done everything with her. I’d hung on to her every word. I’d thought she was so beautiful and fierce. A strong, capable person.

Then I realized it wasn’t strength I was seeing; it was the ability to make others feel weak so she could control them. She could put someone down over weeks and months, chipping away at them until they bent to her will.

But not me. Not anymore. I was so done with this place. I could see the New York City skyline whenever I closed my eyes, waiting for me to get there.

Except…there were some things here I wasn’t done with. Not even a little bit.

Putting in my earbuds, I tucked my phone into the tight pocket on my armband. While it sucked not to have a car, my favorite cafe didn’t take very long to jog to. I hadn’t been able to finish my breakfast since Mom wouldn’t quit nagging me, and avoiding her meant I didn’t even go downstairs for lunch.

My stomach was growling with hunger as I ran through the neighborhood park. The trails here were nice, with large trees providing some shade. But the sky was filled with thick gray clouds today, although the heat was no less intense. The air felt so thick that I was drenched in sweat within a few minutes.

If only Mom knew the truth, if only she’d accept it without completely losing her temper. I had no friends left to speak of, but it was largely by my own choice. No one that I’d grown up knowing was still close to me. Not a single person I’d once called a friend was trustworthy.

No one except…

I slowed my jog as I neared the cafe, smiling as I pulled out my phone. Ashley Garcia had been my friend longer than anyone else I knew. We’d met in fourth grade and been inseparable ever since — at least until she landed her dream job and moved to New York without me. We had always been a lot alike, and although she was a gossip queen, she’d never made me feel like I risked our friendship by doing my own thing.

I gave her a call, and it was so good to hear her voice that I almost choked up. She was living her best single life, partying on the weekends and grinding hard at work during the week. She’d gotten a job as an advertising consultant and loved it nearly as much as she loved trying a new cocktail bar every night.

“Anything new in Wickeston?” she said, after relaying all her weekend shenanigans. “Let me guess, it’s still boring, boring, boring.”

“Pretty much.” I laughed. The cafe was packed that morning, and I was keeping an eye out for an open seat as I waited for my food. “It’s exactly the same. Backstabbing bitches and assholes everywhere. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

Maybe she heard the little hint of a lie in my voice, because she said slyly, “Yeah, can’t come soon enough. Nothing much to look forward to in Wickeston, except…well, you know.”

I sighed. “What do I know, Ash?”

“You know,” she insisted. “Your favorite boy toys are still there, aren’t they?” When I said nothing, she explained, “Manson Reed? Vincent? Their weirdo friends?”

“Oh my God, girl, no.” The denial came instantly, but the moment I’d said it, a pang of regret tightened in my chest. What was I so afraid of? It was Ashley I was talking to. She wouldn’t judge me! Or at least if she did, she wouldn’t make me feel bad about it. But I kept seeing Danielle in my mind’s eye, smiling at me as she said with fake sweetness, “It’s our little secret, babe.”

I didn’t think Ashley would betray me like that. I hated to even think about it.

She clearly wasn’t buying my denial. “Riiight, sure.”

I sipped my coffee, as if the caffeine would somehow help me relax. “What made you think that anyway?”

“First off, because you actually sound really happy. The last time I remember you being so upbeat was after a certain Halloween party a few years ago.” She giggled. “Also, you were so not subtle about how hard you stalked them in college. I swear, every time I looked at your phone, you had one of their socials pulled up. But, okay. I believe you. You definitely haven’t seen them, right?”

“Right,” I said quickly, but her long silence afterward broke me. “Okay, fine, I saw them at a party.”

Her shriek almost burst my eardrums. I had to hold the phone away from my ear, earning some weird looks from the people seated around me as the high-pitched scream emanated from my speakers.

“Oh my God, I knew it, I knew it!” she exclaimed. “You have to tell me everything — Ah. Shit. Never mind. My boss is calling me. Call me later?”

“Sure thing, girl. Love you.”

“Love you, bitch, byyyye.”

My order was up and I still hadn’t found an open seat. I wandered out onto the patio, which was shaded by trees and surrounded by vine-covered trellises. I was scanning the tables when a bright red head of hair caught my eye.

Julia, the woman from Satin Novelties, saw me at the same moment I spotted her.

“Jessica! Hey!” She waved me over, a big smile on her face. She had an empty chair at her table and she motioned to it. “Need a seat? I promise I won’t talk your ear off. I can’t believe how busy it is here today.”

I accepted gratefully, taking the chair across from her. She was halfway through a sandwich and a coffee, an open textbook in front of her and a notebook under her right hand.

I was hesitant to reconnect with anyone from high school at this point. But Julia and I had been in different grades and in entirely different circles. She’d seemed nice enough at the shop, so maybe I could risk getting to know her better.

“What are you studying?” I said, trying to read her massive book upside down. There were some complicated diagrams that looked like organs.

“Human Physiology,” she said, sighing heavily. “I’m a nursing student. As much as I love selling porn and dildos, it doesn’t pay quite enough to live on. Did you already graduate?”

She spoke loudly, without a care about who heard her. Some folks sitting beside us shot her a dirty look, but she brushed her hair over her shoulder and paid them no mind.

“Yeah, I graduated in June,” I said. “Architectural Design.”

“Oooh, so you’re like, artsy and mathematically inclined,” she said. “Are you going to design skyscrapers? Will you build the next Burj Khalifa?”

I laughed. “Damn, wouldn’t that be a dream? Actually, I’m more interested in designing houses. Especially restoring older homes.”

“You must love what Lucas and the guys have been doing with their old house, then,” she said, leaning forward in her seat. “I’ve only seen it a couple times, but damn, I remember what it looked like before.” She grimaced. “I’m pretty sure it was almost condemned when they got it.”

“I believe it,” I said. “I think that old place could be really beautiful. It seems like they’re putting in a lot of work.”

“Sooo, how are you and Vincent?” she said. “Or you and…the guys…all of them.” She laughed awkwardly. “I never really know how to ask. Sorry.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Wait, you know about all that? About them sharing with each other?”

“Oh, yeah.” She waved her hand as if it was old news. “They’ve always had their own unit going on, as long as I’ve known them. Lucas has always been open about it, being polyamorous and all that. I think it’s cool. Love should be free and ethical, in my opinion.”

“Do they date much? I mean, have you ever seen them try to bring anyone else in?” It was a question I probably could have asked of them directly, but it felt like demanding information I didn’t have a right to. After all, we weren’t dating…technically.

That technicality was hanging by an increasingly thinning thread.

Julia screwed up her face in thought. “Not really. There was a girl last year, but she didn’t stick around very long. And there was a guy the year before that, but the same thing. Didn’t stick around. They keep to themselves, but I don’t blame them. People around here aren’t very open-minded.” She leaned even closer, lowering her voice. “When Satin Novelties opened, people literally stood outside with picket signs. Like they thought we were corrupting the town or something.”

She was easy to talk to and quick to laugh. No matter what topic we switched to, she never skipped a beat and I never heard a negative word from her mouth about anybody. It felt like hardly any time had passed as we finished our food.

“Here’s my number,” she said, handing me a folded sticky note. “If you ever want to hang out or grab breakfast, shoot me a text. I’m not really into jogging, but I love a good hike. We should go together sometime.”

I was still smiling as I took my plate and cup back inside, dropping it off at the counter before I left. Julia seemed like a genuinely kind person, not like she was simply putting on an act or trying to get on my good side. When she asked questions, she acted sincerely interested. It still stunned me that the whole reason she knew the boys was because she’d managed to get on Lucas’s good side.

I hadn’t even realized how desperately I’d needed this. Just some time to decompress, and genuine conversations with women who weren’t eager to stab me in the back the second they got the chance.

I’d only just made it out the door to head home when I ran smack into someone coming in the opposite direction.

“Oh! Excuse me, sir, sorry,” I apologized hurriedly to the man I’d bumped into, edging around him on the sidewalk. But then I lifted my eyes, looking at him for the first time, and a flood of ice-cold fear washed through my veins.

He was in his fifties, at least. Tall and skinny, a tattered t-shirt and jeans hung loosely from his frame. His hair was grown out, streaked with gray, shiny with grease. His hollow cheekbones and dark eyes were far too familiar.

It was Reagan Reed. Manson’s father.

I stuttered for a moment, my mouth gaping at him, before I hurriedly tried to turn away. But he grabbed my arm, yanking me back toward him so hard that I gasped. His hold was like a vice, and I could smell alcohol and cigarettes on his breath.

But as quickly as he grabbed me, he let go.

“Sorry about that, ma’am. I mistook you for someone else.” It sounded as if he’d been gargling with rocks. “You’ll have to forgive an old man for his poor eyesight.”

“Oh, yeah…sure,” I said, rubbing my arm where he’d gripped me. Was I supposed to run? Stay? Call for help? Did I need help? Vincent had said Reagan “freaked him out,” and I knew he’d been abusive toward his wife and son, but he was an old man now, thin and frail looking.

His grip had hardly been frail though.

“You’re Jessica Martin, aren’t you?” His use of my full name jerked my attention back. I nodded, before quickly realizing I shouldn’t have confirmed it. “I thought so. I recognize you from church. You used to go with your mama.”

The last time I’d attended a church service was at least ten years ago, despite my mom trying everything to get me to attend. “I haven’t been to church in a long time, sir.”

He smiled. His teeth were brown, gums red. “Neither have I.” His eyes roamed over me, giving me an uncomfortable feeling, as if his gaze was covering me with slime. “You’ve grown up into quite the beautiful young woman. That blonde hair…” He reached out, confusion and surprise keeping me rooted in place as he caught a strand of my hair in his long fingers. “Like an angel.”

Hurriedly backing away, I said, “I have to go,” and walked away without another word.

Getting my keys out of my purse immediately, I nestled one of them between my fingers like a weapon, thankful for all the shops and people nearby. Reagan didn’t follow me, but I heard what he called after me.

“Have a good day now. You be careful out there.”

My feeling of unease remained for the entire walk home. I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see the old man again every time I turned my head. Thankfully, my mom’s car was gone as I approached the house. Only once the door was shut and locked behind me, and I’d double-checked that the security system was set, did I feel any better.

Why was Manson’s dad still hanging around? His son wanted nothing to do with him, and as far as I knew, he didn’t have a house here. What did he want with me? Why and how did he even know who I was?

I pulled out my phone, staring at my reflection on the screen. I didn’t like to go crying to anyone for help, but I had a terrible feeling in my gut that something was really off. Who the hell grabbed a stranger like that? The way he’d talked about remembering me, the way he’d touched my hair…

I shuddered, then pulled up Vincent’s number and dialed.

He answered after only a couple rings.

“Hey, baby.” He sounded sleepy despite it being midway through the afternoon. The huskiness in his tone was instantly alluring. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” I said, wandering through the house with my phone at my ear. I took a quick peek at my dad’s office, but the door was shut, and I could hear the news playing from inside. I didn’t want to blurt out I called you because I was scared! but I also wasn’t sure what else to say. “Just, uh…called to see what you’re doing, I guess.”

“Oh, you know how it is. Sleeping in, getting high, eating snacks in bed. Thinking about your sexy ass. Degenerate things.” He chuckled. “I started a new painting today. I’ll show you next time you come over.”

It was remarkable how quickly he could put me at ease, how the stress felt as if it was melting out of my muscles. I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and trudged upstairs, flopping down onto my bed.

“Why’d you really call me, Jess?” Vincent said, his voice gentle. “Don’t lie.”

I sighed, feeling guilty that he didn’t believe me about calling to chat, then feeling even guiltier that he was right. “I saw Manson’s dad again today.”

His voice was instantly more alert. “Where?”

“At the cafe. It was The Toasted Bean, off Fair Street and Westlake. I don’t know what was up with him. I ran into him when I was leaving and he grabbed me —”

“He fucking what?” There was a thump, as if he’d suddenly moved or dropped something. “Where are you? Are you all right? Are you somewhere safe?”

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. I’m at home.” I was surprised by the alarm in his voice. “But it freaked me out and I didn’t know who else to call.”

He sighed heavily. “I’m glad you did. Manson knows he’s back in town and he’s not happy about it. I actually…I kinda fucked up, Jess. I forgot to tell him and he found out because he saw his dad’s truck parked near your house.”

My eyes widened as I sat up. “Near my house?”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’m sure it’s not…I don’t think it meant anything. I think it just scared Manson, you know?”

“Yeah, well, this old man is starting to freak me out too,” I said, pulling my curtain aside and staring out at the street. “He knew my name, Vincent. He knew exactly who I was.”

“Fucking hell.” Vincent took a deep breath, sounding as if this was the last thing he’d wanted to hear. “Look, Jess, you have to be careful, okay? Reagan isn’t safe. I don’t know how much Manson has told you, but that guy is a fucking shitbag. I wouldn’t put it past him to start something if he knows you’ve been spending time with us.”

Dread roiled within me as I replayed the incident in my mind. The way Reagan had looked at me, how hard he’d gripped me — yeah, he wasn’t a safe person. And he’d seen me that day with Vincent, so it was likely he’d made the association between me and them.

Vincent went on, “If you need to go someplace, call us and one of us will drive you. Seriously.”

“I’d be calling almost every morning,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll be careful.”

“No.” His voice was firm. “It’s not enough for you to be looking over your shoulder every time you walk somewhere. I’m not going to risk that guy catching you alone. He’s the reason I have a gun in the house, Jess. I need you to understand that.”

This was even worse than I’d thought. My fingers clenched on one of my pillows, and I dug my nails into the fluffy surface.

“It doesn’t make sense for you guys to drive me back and forth from the gym at 7 am every other day,” I said. “That’s too much.”

“I’ll talk to the others. For now, if you go anywhere besides the gym, tell me. Location and address. I know that sounds overbearing as fuck, but I’m serious. Do that for me, please?”

He sounded genuinely concerned, even fearful. The fact that he was so protective of me, when I shouldn’t have meant much of anything to him at all, made my growing fear lessen a bit. At least I didn’t have to deal with this alone. “Okay. Okay, I will.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, sir.”

Finally, I heard a smile in his voice. “Good girl. All right, I’ll talk to you soon. L—” He cut off abruptly and cleared his throat, as if he’d stumbled over the word. “Later.”