Good Girl Gone Read online

  “I want to talk to Josh,” he says sternly.

  “But—”

  Josh shoves me off his lap and points toward the other room. I get up reluctantly. This can’t possibly end well.

  “Are you sure?” I say to him.

  Josh crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me.

  Emilio takes me by the shoulders and shoves me gently but firmly into the hallway. I go, but I don’t want to. Because I have no idea what Emilio is going to say or do.

  Josh

  Emilio doesn’t say anything immediately. He wanders around the room, occasionally running a finger across Lilly’s things. “I met Lilly,” he says. “She’s very nice.”

  I nod, because I’m kind of sure he doesn’t need or want for me to speak.

  “So it’s your fault she’s in the chair?”

  I nod again. “Yes,” I croak out. “I drove after drinking. It was stupid. A dumb mistake, and she’s going to be paying for it for the rest of her life.”

  “You feel guilty.” It’s not a question. Just a statement.

  “Yes.”

  “You should.” His eyes meet mine. “But she’s a happy girl. I don’t think she holds it against you.”

  I nod.

  “Has Star told you about what happened to her?”

  “You mean with her foster father?”

  “Father!” He barks out a fake laugh. “Some father.” He’s quiet for a beat. “I’m surprised she told you. She’s never told anyone.”

  “I love her, Emilio.” I mean it. I told her I love her. I don’t feel bad about telling him too.

  He doesn’t say anything. He just wanders around the room. But when he finally opens his mouth, I want to shut him up, because I can see the warring emotions on his face before he even speaks.

  “I remember when she first came to live with us.” His jaw jumps as he grinds his teeth. “She was a little bitty thing. Skinny and lanky. But, man, when she smiled, she won my heart.” He stops and looks out the window. “She had only been with us for a week, and I was walking by her room late one night. I saw that her bedside light was on and she was reading, so I stopped in the doorway.”

  I don’t interrupt him. I’m afraid to. My heart is beating like it’s going to jump from my chest.

  “I knocked lightly and she nearly jumped out of the bed. She started to fidget and she set her book to the side. Then she smiled at me, but it was so strange, you know?” He turns to look at me. “No, you wouldn’t know. Even I don’t understand it. It was robotic, almost. Like she was playing a part. She motioned me forward, and then she pulled her nightgown over her head.”

  My gut twists.

  “I took two steps back into the hallway—staggered, really—and I just stood there, not knowing what to do or what to say. ‘Something wrong with your gown?’ I finally asked her. ‘If it’s too hot in here, I can get you a fan.’ She looked kind of confused, kind of lost for a moment, then jerked her nightgown back over her head and let it settle around her. She was a baby. Just a child. I bet she wasn’t even old enough to have her period yet. Marta handled all that stuff with the girls.”

  I hold up a hand. “You shouldn’t be telling me this—”

  “I’m telling you my story,” he says. “Not hers.

  I force myself to listen.

  “She shared a room with Wren. And as I walked away, I heard Wren whisper, ‘You don’t have to do that for this one. This one is nice.’ The light clicked off, and they went to sleep.

  “I went and threw up my dinner. Marta came in and was surprised to find me in a lump on the bathroom floor, feeling like someone had just torn my heart out of my chest.” He clutches his fist over his heart. “She was a child. And she thought that’s what she needed to do to please me.” His voice cracks.

  “What did you do?” I don’t really want to know, but I think he wants to talk.

  “I never went in her room after dark again. Not unless Marta was with me. Even now, I don’t step foot in her bedroom. Ever.” He shakes his head. “It was just too much, you know? She was a fucking baby.”

  “You knew who it was, back then?”

  “Her first foster home. Before she went to the group home.” He shakes his head. “I tried to find out who he was so I could kill him slowly. I wanted to pull all his fingernails out. Then I wanted to tie a rubber band around the base of his balls and let them rot off. Right after I sliced his dick into tiny little ribbons. I didn’t want to cut it off. That would be too kind.”

  “Did you ever do anything to him?”

  He shakes his head and sighs. “No one would tell me who he was.”

  “That’s probably for the best.”

  “They took away his ability to foster children, and they said they prosecuted, but I couldn’t get any details. He’d done it before, apparently.”

  “Well, that’s good—that he couldn’t be with children anymore, I mean.”

  “He deserved worse.”

  “I agree.” I pause a moment. “Why did you tell me this?”

  “I want you to understand why she is the way she is.” He stares at me. “It’s not her fault she can’t trust anyone. It’s not her fault.” He slams his fist against the door. “It’s not her motherfucking fault.” His voice is rough, raw.

  “She does trust people,” I tell him. “She trusts you.” I laugh. “She thinks you walk on water.”

  “I might be able to walk on water but I still can’t walk into her room when it’s dark.” He laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. “It just makes me furious that the bastard shaped any part of her future. He was allowed to shape her into who she is. That bastard was allowed to contribute to her upbringing. She was just a child, needing a role model, a father. What he did became a part of her.” He wipes a tear from his cheek when one finally spills over.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Emilio. He didn’t shape her. She shaped herself. She survived. It’s just about time for you to stop thinking of her as a victim. She doesn’t think of herself that way.”

  “I don’t think of her as a victim!” he shouts. Then he calms himself with a deep breath. “I think of her as a survivor. She’s one of the strongest women I know. She overcame it. She got through it. So if you fuck it up, Josh, I swear to fucking God that I will kill you.” He points a finger at me. “You be good to my girl. Or you will have to answer to me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” I swallow so hard that I can hear it. “I want to marry her, Emilio,” I tell him. I wasn’t even thinking about marriage, but when I think about my life without Star in it, I don’t like that either.

  He looks down at me. “And you want my permission?”

  “I’d like to have it, yes.”

  “I never thought she’d be able to get close to a man,” he says. “Even when she was a teenager and I caught her in the back of a car with a boy, I knew she had set the whole thing up so that I would think she’s normal.” He stops and grits his teeth. “But she’ll never be normal, because she’s so fucking perfect.” He smiles a slow, soft smile. “But then I see her with you, and she’s so calm and so loving, and I realize that you’re what she needs.”

  “Thank you,” I croak. “So, can I ask her to marry me?”

  “If you can convince her, you got it.” He laughs, like he knows something I don’t know. He lifts his nose and sniffs. “Do I smell gingerbread?” Then he goes in search of cookies.

  I turn around and see Star standing in the other doorway that leads into the bathroom and an adjoining bedroom. “Have you been there the whole time?” I ask.

  She nods. “I came in from the other room. Not to snoop. I was just going to the bathroom. But then he started to talk…”

  “You heard all that?”

  She nods again.

  “Are you all right?”

  Her voice trembles. “I don’t remember doing that. Taking my nightgown off. Not for Melio. I did it for the other one. He had me trained. Groomed. Seduced. He had me like he wanted
me.”

  Then she turns and leaves the room.

  “Star!” I call. But she keeps on walking. She doesn’t stop. Not until she gets to where Lilly is sitting. Then she leans down and whispers something in Lilly’s ear and the two of them disappear together into Lilly’s bedroom. The door closes tightly behind them and I hear the lock click.

  I think I’m in big trouble.

  Star

  I walk toward Lilly with my heart in my throat. She’s sitting with her boyfriend in the kitchen, and I drop down beside her chair and ask, “Can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?” She tilts her head at me and then gives me a quirky smile. She goes to her room. I follow her and turn her chair to face me.

  I close the door behind us and lock it, because I know Josh is going to try to come inside, and this is the last place I want him to be. I need to talk to Lilly, and I need to do this right.

  I pace back and forth across the room and she watches me, her head tilted ever so slightly in question. I nibble on my thumbnail as I gather my thoughts.

  I stop and face her. “So, you were Josh’s first love.”

  She nods.

  “You would probably be married to him right now if things had gone the way you wanted.”

  Her eyes narrow.

  “I know you love him, still.” I wince when she raises her head. I hold up my hand. “It’s okay. I know you love him. It’s normal for you to feel affection for someone who grew up with you, someone who was your first. Even now, that would be perfectly normal.”

  Lily laughs out loud. She covers her mouth and motions for me to continue.

  Why did she laugh? I don’t get it.

  “So I want to find out what you’re feeling. Do you hate me?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I just want to be really clear, Lilly. I don’t want to take him away from you, and I don’t want to take your place in any way. And if you tell me that you don’t want us to be together, I’ll hate it, but I’ll listen. Well, I’ll listen for a minute and then I’ll work to help you deal with those feelings.”

  She laughs again.

  “But no matter what, I just need to tell you that I love him.”

  She nods.

  “I love him like crazy.” I lay my hand on my heart because I feel like it’s going to jump out of my chest. “But I want to respect your feelings for him. When I hurt him today, you were the one he ran to. You were the one he wanted.”

  I stop my crazy pacing and try to calm myself down.

  “I want to be the one he runs to for everything, no matter how bad the situation is. I want to be the one to hold his hand when he’s hurt. I want to be beside him when important things happen. I want to be it for him.”

  I hold up a hand, which I know is stupid, but she’s opened her mouth and I know I don’t want her to make a noise or try to stop me.

  “I want you to be his friend, Lilly. But I want to be his everything. Do you understand?”

  She nods. And she smiles.

  She holds up a finger. Then she goes to her easel and stops in front of it. She had it turned toward the window, probably so she could capture the light. She motions me over.

  I stop and stare. Then I plop down on her bed because my legs won’t hold me up anymore. It’s a painting, and it’s beautiful. It’s slightly abstract, which I realize is Lilly’s style.

  The door to the bathroom opens. Josh comes into the room and stares at the painting. “It’s us,” Josh says as he comes to sit beside me. “All of us,” he goes on to explain. “She showed it to me this afternoon.” He points to the pink bicycle on the left. “When we were young, Lilly had a pink bicycle with long glittery streamers that came from the handlebars. They flew out behind her when she rode it.” He rubs a hand across the top of Lilly’s head. Then he points to the painting. “This bicycle represents the past. It’s me and her and it shows how happy we were.”

  I stare at the painting. On the other side is a dark bicycle. It’s broken, though, and its pieces are scattered.

  “This one,” he says, “this was my bicycle. And it represents my life. Broken. Bashed. Pieces strewn all over the place.”

  In the painting two people huddle over the broken bike, but they’re featureless. I have no idea who they are. “Is this you and Lilly?” I ask. I swallow past the lump in my throat.

  He shakes his head. “It’s me and you.” He threads his fingers through mine and tugs me down to sit in his lap. “It’s me and you picking up the pieces together.” He points to Lilly’s bike. “She’s there, watching. She’s making sure it all goes well. She’s making sure I’m happy.”

  A tear rolls down his cheek and he doesn’t wipe it away. He takes a breath. “She knows that you are the one who can heal me. You can help me put all my pieces back together. And you have, Star. You’ve done it. Just you.”

  “Oh, Lilly,” I breathe.

  Then I notice the other pink bike up in the corner of the painting, only this one has four wheels. “What’s this?” It’s a sunset in the corner, and the bike is moving toward it.

  “That’s Lilly, riding off into the sunset.” He laughs. “She always did like dramatic exits.”

  She picks up a pen top from the nearby table and throws it at his head.

  “Lilly found her happiness, despite what happened. She’s happy, and she wants us to be happy too.”

  “Really?” I look at Lilly and watch as she slowly nods. She points to me, to her chest, and then to Josh.

  “She wants to know if you love me,” Josh explains.

  “Oh,” I breathe out.

  He nudges me. “So, do you?” He looks so vulnerable. So curious. So full of want.

  I nod and take his face in my hands. “I do,” I whisper. And I kiss him. I kiss him softly and sweetly and it lasts what seems like forever. A knock on the door breaks us apart.

  Emilio bellows through the cracks. “Everything okay in there?”

  I get up and go to the door.

  “You okay?” he asks me.

  I wipe my wet face. “Yeah. I’m good.” I nod quickly and he smiles at me.

  “Good,” he says. “Get your ass out here because they’re about to announce the winners for your category.”

  Lilly claps her hands together and goes down the hallway.

  I grab Josh’s shoulder as he goes to follow her. “Hey, Josh,” I say.

  “Hey, Star,” he says back.

  “Do you want to marry me?”

  He stares at me. “Yeah,” he says. “I do, but I want to ask you with a proper ring and lots of romance. Can you wait?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He laughs. “Try.”

  “No promises,” I tell him.

  He laughs again and we go out to the TV room. We all crowd around the TV and watch through a commercial. When the awards ceremony comes back on, we see them announce the nominees, and they pan over my sisters and Emily in the crowd.

  I text Wren really quickly.

  Me: I think I just got engaged.

  Wren: You think?

  Me: I’m pretty sure.

  Wren: So happy for you!

  The announcer takes the envelope that has the winner written on a piece of paper inside, and they called out, “Fallen from Zero!”

  I jump up and down and squeal, and Emilio picks me up and spins me around. I can’t contain myself. My sisters are doing the same thing on the screen and I watch as they go up onto the stage and accept the award.

  “We want to thank the fans first,” Finch says. She then thanks producers and various others. Then she stops and looks into the camera. “You might have noticed that one of our sisters isn’t with us. She’s off getting engaged! We love you, Star, and we’re so happy for you! Now get your ass home so you can tell us all about it!” They bleep out the word “ass” but you can tell what it was. The camera leaves them and I’m so damn excited that I can’t even sit still.

  A woman’s voice I haven’t heard before rings out: “Someo
ne forgot to take the trash out.”

  I recognize her from the veranda of his former home when Josh and I came here for the first time. I’m pretty sure this is his mother.

  “You should go home, Liza” Mrs. Jameson says. She bustles forward and takes the woman by the shoulders. But she fights against Mrs. Jameson’s girth, screaming obscenities.

  “Let her stay!” Josh says, his voice deep and strong.

  Mrs. Jameson reluctantly lets her go, and Josh’s mother shakes herself like she’s shaking off the touch of the other woman.

  She points her skinny finger at Josh. “You should not be here.”

  “He’s welcome here,” Mrs. Jameson says. “It’s you who is not!”

  “Don’t worry, Mother,” Josh says. “I’m leaving very soon.”

  “Good riddance!” she cries.

  He scrubs a hand down his face like he’s suddenly so tired. “Why did you come over here?”

  “I wanted to see the man you didn’t become.” She sneers down at his chair. “You deserve everything you got. And more.”

  Josh doesn’t say anything for a long moment and a heavy silence falls over the room.

  “You bought the beer, Mother,” he suddenly says, very quietly.

  She gasps, but doesn’t say anything.

  “What?” Mrs. Jameson asks. Her eyes flick from Josh to his mom and back.

  “When we were getting in the car that night, she whispered to me that there was a surprise in the trunk. It was a cooler full of beer.”

  “They were sixteen!” Mrs. Jameson cries.

  “She thought someone else was driving, but I was the least drunk at the end of the night. Looking back, I didn’t feel drunk at all, but I was, all the same. I was very drunk. I never should have driven. I hurt a lot of people.”

  “Did you really do that?” Mrs. Jameson asks Liza.

  Josh’s mom sputters out a crazy laugh.

  “When I woke up in the hospital, the first thing she said to me was, ‘You can’t tell anyone, Josh. You can’t tell anyone at all.’ Then she sent me away, to be sure I couldn’t tell anyone.”

  A sharp slap rings out in the room. Mrs. Jameson has hit Josh’s mom, her palm print slowly reddening on the other woman’s cheek. Josh’s mom covers it with her hand, her mouth gaping open.