“It’s not going to hurt you. Eat,” he says, all without taking his eyes off of the television. I hop on my good foot to the end of the bed. I pull the bag to me and look inside of it. A neatly wrapped burger is sitting at the bottom with a few grease stains. I pull it out and slowly unwrap it. It smells like heaven. But right now, I’m so hungry I’m sure anything would. I open it up and look on the inside of the burger just to be careful. Once I’m sure it’s as safe as I can assume, I take a bite.
I moan the moment it hits my tongue. It’s delicious. I take another bite and then another until I’ve devoured the entire thing. I’m sure I’ll end up with a stomachache in a few minutes from eating so fast after not eating anything yesterday, but I couldn’t help myself. I reach for the bottle of water and drink that nearly as fast.
“You were hungry,” Marcus says as he reaches for the remote and turns off the television. He stands up and walks around the bed. I stare at him, unmoving, just watching. I’m not sure what he’s going to do as he comes close. He picks me up like I’m a rag doll and drops me at the head of the bed. Just as quickly, he grabs the empty cuff and fastens it around his wrist.
“Just reassurance. Now sleep. We have a big day tomorrow,” he says as he lies down next to me and settles his head against the pillow.
“A big day? What do you mean?” I ask. I don’t know if I like the sound of that.
“Go to sleep, Fallon,” he says with his eyes closed and his arm shackled to mine.
But I don’t; I simply lay there staring at the wall for several long minutes. I can hear his uneven breathing; he’s not asleep yet either.
“Why?” I ask.
He takes a moment to answer. I hear him swallow before he speaks. “What do you mean?”
I turn my head towards him. “Why, Marcus? Why me? Why does it have to be me? Why not be with any other girl?”
His eyes finally open, and he stares at me for a moment before saying simply, “You tried to tell me no.”
Just like that. Because I was capable of standing up to him, his fucked-up head justified that as a good enough reason to force me to be his—to steal the choice right out from under me.
“And if I tell you no again?” I ask.
“You won’t. You no longer have that freedom,” he says before he turns back and closes his eyes again. “Sleep, Fallon.”
It was Luna. That was when I told him no. When I didn’t take care of the “problem,” his twisted mind thought it meant I was the one for him. But I’m not. I know now I never really was—not even when I was blinded by the glamor of him being an older, sexy man who wanted me. A part of me still knew it was wrong. I still knew he was wrong.
I don’t regret it though. I will never regret fighting for my daughter. Even now, when I’m caged by the animal he has become—that he always has been—she was worth it. She will always be worth it.
“Boy, you’ve gone mad, haven’t you?” Shady says as she passes the bottle back to me.
“I don’t know,” I say as I tip the bottle up. Shady always has the good stuff. I look at the bottle of fancy scotch. It’s the same kind my father drinks. “Maybe.”
“This girl—she’s gotten under your skin, huh?” she asks. She chuckles a bit, shaking her head. “Who knew the great Jesse Callaway would fall in love.”
“You knew,” I say.
“Yeah, I guessed one day someone would come along,” she says. “She’s a lucky bitch.”
I pass the bottle back to Shady, and she takes a sip before we sit a moment in silence. I look out at the Depot from the hood of my car. This track once meant everything to me. Now it’s just a track with people slowly starting to show up. The game must be over, and that means my time is up.
“Well, it’s time to get to work,” Shady says as she hands me the bottle and stands up.
“Shady,” I call out. She turns to look back at me. “I’m sorry.” And I am.
“Don’t be. You and I would’ve never worked out,” she says with a small, slightly sad smile. “It was fun.”
Our eyes meet for a moment, and I hope she can see the sincerity in them. She walks off to handle the track. Shady is a cool chick, and we did have fun, but it’s not something that would have ever worked out. She’s a few years older than me. She runs my track. And she’s not Fallon.
I continue to take a few sips as I watch the track fill up with kids from all different walks of life. The track has always been great for that—bringing us all together.
Tonight, just like on most weekends at the Depot, everyone gathers, lining the track. Continuing on with their lives and having fun with their friends. There’s no care or worries. What I wouldn’t give to be like them . . . to not know what it feels like to have the goddamn pressure. The responsibility. To have my fucking heart torn from me. Even this scotch, most likely stolen out of my asshole father’s collection, isn’t really helping.
“Did you come to show the world how big and bad Jesse Callaway is?” Jordan’s annoying voice blesses me. I look to my right and there he is—an angry fool glaring right at me.
“What the fuck do you want Jordan? Another ass-kicking?” I ask. A swig of scotch is better than looking at this fuckwit.
“What’s the matter, Callaway? Run out of people
