Candy sits in a rocking chair near the TV, her feet kicked up on the coffee table, Rad sitting across from her on a milk crate, and Stacks lounges on the couch a cushion away. Saturday Night Live is on, but I’m not watching it. My focus is my finger tracing the flower print on the armrest.
I want out of here, and there’s no way out. I have no control, and that’s the scariest thing I can imagine. It’s like looking through a window overseeing the hills of Hell, knowing you’ll have to track up and down those mountains eventually. Pulling my foot up, I inspect the chain, searching for a weak link. There’s one that’s a little rusty but there’s no way I can get it to break by hand. I’d need something to saw it, and Stacks made sure that everything I could use to escape is out of my reach. Sighing, my eyes raise to the picture frame above the TV. It’s of a couple but I don’t know who it is.
“Who’s that?” I finally ask, interrupting the show.
Candy looks up, taking a drag off a cigarette.
“Our parents,” she clips, and this catches my attention. Who does she mean by “our”?
“Whose parents?”
Candy side-eyes Stacks, her elbow resting on the arm of the rocker, cigarette between her fingers. From the gold foil around the filter, I’d say it’s Marlboro lights, if I wasn’t pregnant, I’d ask for one, God knows my nerves could use the nicotine.
“But, I thought you and Stacks were together?” I assume.
Her face reddens, her attention back on the TV.
“They ain’t blood,” Rad informs, his eyes never leaving the screen.
Silence blankets the room, the only noise coming from the show on TV.
“Our parents met, got married, moved into this big house, and tried to play family,” Stacks informs, leaning forward in his seat. “However, after the celebration ended and everyone went back to their lives, our parents got bored of playing wife and husband and sniffed themselves stupid and into dept. Leaving Candy and me to take over this place.” Stacks looks at me, his strapping shoulders bare and sweating from the autumn heat.
“So, naturally, you thought you should fuck your sister?” I mouth off, hoping to press a couple of buttons.
“You’re not better than us,” Candy snaps, her feet sliding off the coffee table and onto the hard floor. Her eyes stabbing into me with hatred.
Swallowing, I scowl in her direction.
“Trust me. I don’t think I’m better than anyone, Candy.” Wreckage and shame lace my voice like venom. My words alone telling the room I’ve been through shit in my life, and I have. I have more daddy issues than Candy, than anyone I know.
Stacks gives me a sympathetic look, and I go back to tracing the flower on the armrest.
“Don’t look at her like that!” Candy snaps at him, standing, she shuffles around the table bends over getting in my face.
“Wow, you know just what to say, don’t you? You really think you’re hot shit.”
Looking through my lashes, my fingers tense with the urge to attack her.
Her nose suddenly scrunches. “You fucking smell. You need a bath.” She snaps her fingers, pointing toward the stairs.
“I can’t take my fucking pants off with the damn cuff!” I holler back, kicking my foot out for a reminder. I know I shouldn’t poke the bear but this bitch has hit every nerve of mine from the way she looks at me to the way she talks at me.
“Haven’t you heard of a whore bath? You’d think one of your background would be used to those.” She sneers, crossing her arms. A whore bath? Really? Yeah, I’ve been doing that, but throwing water under your pits without soap can only do so much for so long.
Her eyes go big, and she slaps her hand over her mouth.
“Oh my God, look what you made me do.” Her voice turning to a whine, confusing me. “I cussed in front of the baby.” She falls to her knees, both of her hands outstretched as she reaches for my stomach. I tense.
“Mommy is sorry, this woman just makes me so angry. Yes, she does!” Candy coos, her crazy side coming out. I swear she’s fucking bi-polar.
“I’ll help her.” Stacks stands, stretching his arms above his head. Candy’s mouth parts.
“No, you won’t!” Jealousy curls her upper lip. “I can get a bath with her.”
“No,” I refuse, pushing her hands off my stomach. This is all too much, I can’t take this. She’s not the mom, I am!
Stacks glares at Candy before tugging me up off the couch by the hand. I huff, irritated with how he’s always shoving and pushing me around.
“Don’t be stupid, Candy. Don’t forget, this whole baby thing was your idea.” He growls, brows narrowed in. He’s so mysterious, always sitting in the back and doing whatever he wants when he pleases. Sometimes I think he’s with Candy’s idea of keeping me, other times I don’t get that impression.
She crosses her arms, taking a step back.
“I know that, I just…”
Stacks leans over, giving her a peck on the cheek, reassuring her that he doesn’t have any interest in me. That little gesture makes me feel better too. I don’t want to go up there with him any more than she wants him to.
Upstairs he starts the bath, bringing me a blueberry colored towel and some clothes. I pick them up. They must be Candy’s. A pair of blue jeans, panties, sports bra, and a white top. I hold the pants by the waist and press them to my hips. She’s smaller than me.
“Stacks, do you think I’m already showing or is this bloating?” I ask. I don’t know why I ask him, maybe because I have nobody else to talk to. If this was Castaway, Stacks would be my Wilson. Anything he says taken into consideration but deep down I know he’s a dick and I hate him and anything he says.
Leaning up from testing the temperature of the water, he gives me an idiotic look.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know that?” he scoffs at my question.
Dropping the jeans, I shrug. Like I said, someone to talk to, but not taken seriously.
“How far along are you?” he asks quietly, setting shampoo and conditioner on the side of the tub. I’m so sick of people asking me that.
“I dunno. Maybe a month.” I guess I really don’t have any idea. I haven’t been to a doctor to confirm anything.
Rubbing his chin, he looks down at me, an unreadable look on his face.
“You’re probably just bloated then.” He snatches the jeans from me and tosses them out of the bathroom. I frown at the idea of not having any pants to wear.
Kneeling, he uncuffs my ankle and takes a step back.
“Undress.”
A blush spreads up my body. Is he serious?
Crossing his massive arms, he blocks the doorway and stares at me. He’s serious.
Pulling my shirt over my head, my bra is stained with sweat, a layer of dirt covering the busts of my chest. Candy is right, I am gross. Undoing my pants, butterflies fill my stomach, I look to Stacks, he’s still watching me, I turn away from him. I used to want a man’s attention, to feel wanted and have all eyes on me.
I’ll never wish for such a thing again.
Shoving my pants down to my ankles, my panties are revealed, the pink color dull from wearing them so long. Maybe I can just bathe with the bra and panties on? I really don’t want to undress any further.