Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two) (22 page)

Not really ready to go inside, I kill the
engine and just stare ahead at the garage door. I've had enough
time to decide what to do. What to say. Yet somehow I still feel
clueless. The chaos that was once very alive, awake once more,
except this time, it feels like constant jolts of electricity,
frying me alive. Maybe my emotions are trying to short circuit
themselves out. Maybe they're trying to kill themselves again.
Returning me to the old me. For the first time since I met Haven, I
wish I could go back to a time before her.

I exit my car, hands turning the keys around
to prepare to unlock the front door when I hear my name.
Unenthusiastically, I turn my body around to see Leighyani heading
towards me a box with a bow in her hands.

When she finally reaches me on the front
steps of my porch, she gives me a wince over. Finally she sighs,
“You look like shit.”

Unaffected I state, “Feel like it too.”

“What's wrong with you?”

Nothing. Everything. Nothing that should
concern her. Or anyone. “I'm fine. Did you need something?”

Her eyes stare at me. Assessing me. Judging
me. Looking for an answer. When she sees nothing more than stone
cold Grim, she gives up with a sigh, “Right. I know you're
birthday's tomorrow.”

Unimpressed I push, “And?”

“And I got you something.” She offers me the
box. I tilt my head to the side and prepare to argue back I don't
want it. I don't want anything. In fact the only thing I want I'm
going to give to myself and she's standing between me and doing
that. “This year how about we just skip the spiel about how much
you hate your birthday and birthday gifts even more.”

The corners of my lips threaten to turn up
right. I fight it. Pocketing my keys for a minute, I open it and
move the white tissue paper out of the way.

Taken back, I let my mouth open. I mean to
say something immediately but can't. Frozen. Shocked. Finally when
words come back to me I look up from the object and ask, “Where the
hell did you get this?”

“I was on a road trip with some friends and
we stopped at this cute little antique shop in the middle of
fucking nowhere. I saw it and figured what the hell. I knew your
birthday was coming and thought you might like it.”

With a glance down at it again, I nod. “I
do.”

“The lady said something about it belonging
to her grandfather or something. From WWII. Pretty cool huh?”

I look at the antique military blade and nod.
Not only did this girl remember tomorrow is my birthday, she got me
a gift. Even though she knows I hate gifts. She didn't just get me
any gift either. Not some fucking tie or a shirt, but something
that relates to my life. To who I am. And what sucks the fucking
most? My own girlfriend probably hasn't even realized that's what
tomorrow is.

Swallowing the swelling suffering I look back
up at Leighyani. “Thanks. This is the nicest thing anyone's done
for me lately.”

She shrugs and slips one of her hands in the
back pocket of her jeans. They're too tight. But I'm not surprised.
“You mean until tomorrow right? No doubt Haven will top me.”

The comment doesn't sound full of jealousy
like it once did. Now it says playful. Like she's actually trying.
As if we've finally reached the friendship zone. Her bringing up
Haven does force me to say something.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No. I didn't sleep with Glove.”

My head tilts to the side a bit surprised she
assumed that's where this was going. “Wasn't gonna ask.”

“Oh.” Leighyani ruffles her hair now slightly
embarrassed. Whatever. “Shoot then.”

I place the lid back on the box debating
should I even risk asking this. But I have to know. I need some
insight goddamn it! And sadly she's the only person who can provide
it.

“Why'd you cheat on me?”

“Really? I give you a great birthday gift and
you wanna rehash this as a thank you?”

“No. It's not like that. It's--” I cut myself
off realizing I'm leaving myself up to being vulnerable when I'm
not quite sure that's what I want. Fuck it. What do I have to lose
at this point? “Was it something I did? Or said? Or didn't do? Or
say?” Surprised she keeps her vision plastered on me. “I know I
wasn't the best boyfriend while we were together but did I...what
did I do so wrong?”

My eyes fall into hers and for the first time
we've ever talked about this subject I see something I don't
recognize. Regret. Shame. “Honestly? It wasn't you. It was me.”
Silence settles between us for a minute. Taking the hint I'm not
going to interrupt she continues, “Look Clint, while no you weren't
the greatest boyfriend in the world you were the best I had ever
had and still one of the best I've ever had.” That makes me almost
feel sorry for her. “It's just...it's hard being away from someone
you love like that. And for so long. You've always known what you
wanted to do. Where you were going. And you would never rethink
that for anyone, especially not for me. And I would've never asked
you to Clint. But you left. And it wasn't so bad in the beginning
with the phone calls and emails. And then video chatting. But then
it stopped. I know it wasn't your fault. It's just a fact. But that
left me feeling...lonely. Abandoned. Desperate for the attention.
Don't take this wrong way, I get that it's hard to be a soldier,
but it's hard to be the girlfriend of one too.” Quietly she adds,
“But I think when you love someone the way you and Haven love each
other, the distance doesn't matter.”

Feeling my chest constrict on the inside I
grip the box tighter. My body is cramping. My lungs evicting the
air that's made itself a home inside them. The familiar chaotic
feeling begins purring around my toes. Ready to be petted once
more.

Luckily, Leighyani's phone rings and she
pulls it out. A devious smile pops on her face. She shrugs. “I so
gotta go. I probably won't see you again before you go to school in
a couple of days, so happy birthday and kick ass.”

Even she knows I'm leaving. I force a smile
on my face. At the very least she deserves that. “Thanks again,
Leighyani.”

“Don't mention it.” she turns around
answering her phone with a giggle and the words, “I miss you
too...”

The simple fact the relationship between us
is finally at a point I don't mind keeps the smile on my face for a
moment longer. Looking up, I glance over seeing Mindy at her front
window. By her expression, I know that she knows. She probably
wants to talk to me. I don't want to talk to her. In fact there's
only one person I want to talk to right now. With that I turn my
back on her, unlock the front door, and slip inside dialing the
very number I was just thinking of.

After a brief phone call, I grab a change of
clothes, and hop into my shower. The moment the hot water falls
down my head, I extend both my arms to keep myself propped up.
Finally. A moment to pull myself together. The moment is gone as
quickly as it came when the sound of the front door shuts. My brain
is hoping that it's dad but by the way my blood is pumping extra
hard to try to keep my heart beating I know better. I shut my eyes.
I fucking hate this. All of it. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing. I
hate it all. And I'm done. I'm finally done with it. I'm ending
these emotions. This pathetic excuse my life has become. I'm
getting off the roller coaster of bullshit I threw myself on. And
I'm staying off. Releasing my arms, I turn around so the water
slides down my angel wing tattoos, erasing all the animosity, all
the instability, the chaos, and recreating the perfect blank slate
I once was. The one I will be again.

My shower continues until the water finally
turns cold and my body is throbbing in a rejuvenated way. The
charge that's pumping through me is different but familiar. Ah.
Control. My old friend. I slowly dry off my body, my hair, and give
my teeth a good brush. In no particular hurry, I pull on my jeans
and black t-shirt, adjust my tags, and admire the Marine in the
mirror. The soldier. Grim.

Exiting the bathroom, I head straight for my
room, one thing very clear on my mind. I round the corner inside
and grab my cell phone from the dresser slipping it in my pocket,
my back to the bed.

A very meek voice whispers, “Hi.”

Briefly my eyes close.
Stay strong Grim.
You can do this. You have to.
I pop my eyes back open and turn
around. Haven's seated on the bed, legs tucked to her chest, her
face stained with tears, eyes red from crying. I look over her
messy hair. My old sweats and shirt she is wearing. Even now. She
still looks beautiful. Feeling my heart start to yearn I swallow
and head over to my closet.

In a very simple tone I respond, “Hey.”

“You didn't come home last night....”

Finding my bag I open it up. “No.”

“Where were you?”

I begin adding items from the check list in
my head. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters, Clint.” her voice
seems hurt. That's rich.

“If you say so.”

There's a long pause. All I hear is the sound
of her breathing and the sound of my clothes landing on top of each
other in a neat fashion.

Suddenly she whimpers, “Don't do this,
Clint.”

“Do what?”

“You know what. Don't be so cold to me
please. Don't push me away.” Before I can stop it a chuckle comes
out of my body as I shove another item inside. “You think that's
funny?”

“I think its funny coming from you,” I
clarify, my voice the same indifference it's been since we started
this conversation.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means...” I visually search through all
the clothes in the closet looking for a particular shirt. It's at
that moment I realize most of the shit in here isn't even mine.
Figures. “That you pushed me away a long time ago.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Finally spotting it, I grab it. “Exactly what
I said.”

Frustrated she groans out, “Can you just stop
doing what you are doing and talk to me?”

Pulling my bag over to my dresser, I shoot
her glance. “I am talking to you.”

“What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“Why are you packing?” there's a sudden
tremor in her voice.

“I'm leaving.”

“What do you mean you're leaving?”

I toss in some underwear and turn to face
her. Expressionless I shrug, “I mean I'm leaving. I start Marine
Scout Sniper School in a couple days.”

Her jaw drops and I watch her cycle through a
number of emotions. Part of my heart calls out to rush over there.
Hug her. Comfort her. Be her rock. The other part demands I stay
right where I am. So I do.

“I didn't know--”

“I know.”

“And you weren't gonna tell me? What kinda
boyfriend does that?” her voice rises. Now she sounds angry. She
sounds angry?! The anger I had buried begins to stir. I let out a
long exhale. Keep calm Grim. “You were just gonna pack up one day
and be like by the way I'm gone for...gone for...how long are you
even gonna be for?”

My eyes threaten to glare but I don't. I
shrug. “No idea. Once school is over, I don't any idea what I'm
gonna do or where. And while you're on your high horse about what
kind of boyfriend I am, why don't you ask yourself when did you
give me a chance to tell you? Better yet. Ask yourself why you
didn’t ask me.”

The realization causes a new panic to set in.
Defensively she shakes her head. “That's not the point,
Clint--”

“No, Haven. That's exactly the point.” I
watch tears form in her eyes. Stay strong Grim. With a shake of my
head I look up at the ceiling knowing if I keep staring at her I
will cave. I will go back on my plan. I will turn myself back into
the weak whimpering wuss I was. “I've been home almost a month and
in that time, what effort have you really made to be with me?” My
head lowers back to look at her. “And I'm not talking about sitting
down at dinner for a quick meal when you get home; I mean really be
with me? When was the last time you asked me how I was? What was
different with me? Anything related to me?”

Her mouth forms a hard line.

I turn back around to finish packing. Believe
it or not, now it's even harder to concentrate. I start over with
the list.

“You don't know everything about me any more
either, Clint.”

The words slip past the force-field that was
holding my pent up hostility at bay. “Is that a joke?” When she
doesn't answer I take a firm step towards her, “You're really gonna
sit there and tell me I don't know everything about you anymore?
That's really fucking funny, Haven. I've spent the past month
learning everything that I can about you all over again! I've spent
the past month like some fucking spectator on my own girlfriend's
life! I've spent the last month doing everything I fucking can to
be in your damn life, and you can't even stop long enough to ask me
how my day was!”

Tears start to fall but she doesn't make a
sound.

“I don't know you? I don't know that when
you've had a frustrating day at school you crave fried food. I
thought it was just pickles, but it's anything deep fried. It's
your comfort food. Every morning before you leave, you always check
the front door twice to make sure it's locked. Or how about the
fact you twirl your gum when you're deep in thought? That good
enough? No. What do you want me to say to prove I know you? You
have three different perfumes for different occasions? You bra
size? Your menstrual cycle--”

“Point made, Clint.”

“No!” my voice seems to echo through the
room. “You don't get to decide when the argument is over! You don't
get to decide everything! I get a say in this relationship!”

“Then say what is you really wanna say!”

“I wanna know how long you've been cheating
on me!”

“I'm not cheating on you!”

“Oh?!” I pretend to be baffled. “So that kiss
was what? An 'Oh I slipped, tripped, and he caught me with his
tongue'? I'm not fucking stupid Haven!”