The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 159: Chapter 159 - Done Begging

Claire moved fast.

The slap cracked through the park.

Roxie’s head turned with it.

For a moment, her body froze.

Then heat spread across her cheek. Her eyes watered at once. Her fingers lifted to her face and touched the mark.

Ethan stepped between them.

”Back up,” he said.

Claire looked over his shoulder at Roxie.

”Look at you,” Claire said. ”Always hiding behind someone.”

Roxie kept her hand against her cheek.

Claire’s eyes were wet and hateful.

”You’re a bitch, Roxxane. Always were.”

Roxie heard every word.

Her face crumpled before she could stop it.

She tried to hold it in. She tried to keep her mouth closed, keep her chin steady, keep her body still. She tried to be angry because anger had always been easier to carry in front of Claire.

But the tears came.

One slipped down the cheek Claire had hit, and the sting made Roxie suck in a breath.

That made it worse.

Claire saw her cry.

Roxie hated that Claire saw it.

She hated looking like a beggar in front of her, standing there with a red mark on her face and still wanting a scrap of affection.

Her teeth clenched as she tried to stop the tears.

Then something in Roxie changed.

Her hand dropped from her cheek.

The hurt was still there. The tears were still there. Her face was wet, her cheek was burning, and her voice shook when she breathed in.

But under all of it, anger rose hard and fast.

Roxie looked at Claire.

Really looked at her.

Thin. Drunk. Angry. Crying like she was the one who had been slapped.

And Roxie was suddenly sick of it.

Sick of Claire’s pain taking up the whole room, the whole house, the whole world. Sick of every bad choice Claire made somehow landing on Roxie’s back. Sick of being the excuse. Sick of being the reason. Sick of standing there with a red mark on her face and still wanting to ask for love like she had done something wrong.

”No,” Roxie said.

Claire blinked.

Roxie wiped her face with the sleeve of her hoodie. The movement hurt her cheek, but she kept going.

”No,” she said again, louder.

Claire’s face hardened. ”No what?”

”No, I’m done.”

Claire gave a short laugh. ”Done with what?”

”With letting you make me feel guilty because I’m alive.”

Claire’s expression shifted.

Roxie stepped around Ethan.

Ethan reached slightly toward her, but Roxie shook her head once.

She wanted Claire to see her.

She wanted Claire to hear every word.

”It is not my fault I was born,” Roxie said.

Claire’s mouth opened.

Roxie kept going.

”It is not my fault you were nineteen. It is not my fault my father left. It is not my fault Grandma loved me. It is not my fault men left you. It is not my fault Steve was disgusting.”

Claire’s eyes flashed. ”Watch your mouth.”

”No.” Roxie’s voice cracked, then rose. ”I have watched my mouth my whole life because you couldn’t handle the truth without falling apart.”

Claire stepped closer. ”You think you know the truth?”

”I know enough.”

”You know nothing.”

”I know you blame me because it’s easier than blaming yourself.”

Claire’s face twisted.

Roxie’s hands shook at her sides.

”You keep saying I ruined your life,” Roxie said. ”I didn’t. I was a baby. I didn’t ask you to have me. I didn’t ask you to keep me. I didn’t ask you to drag me away from Grandma because you couldn’t stand that she wanted me.”

Claire looked like Roxie had hit her.

For once, Roxie wanted it to hurt.

”You want to say the ugly part?” Roxie asked. ”Say it. Say you were too scared to abort me and too selfish to let Grandma raise me.”

Claire’s face went pale.

Ethan went still behind her.

Roxie’s breath came fast now.

The words were out. They were horrible, and she had meant every one of them.

Claire stared at her. ”You little...”

”No.” Roxie pointed at her. ”You don’t get to hit me and then act like I’m the cruel one.”

Claire’s eyes watered harder. ”You have no idea what I went through.”

”And you made sure I went through it too.”

Claire stopped.

Roxie wiped her face again. More tears came, but she was angry enough to speak through them.

”You fed me. Fine. You raised me. Fine. You kept me alive. Fine. I know. I know every single thing you did because you remind me every time I ask why you didn’t protect me.”

Claire’s mouth trembled.

”But I was your child,” Roxie said. ”Keeping me alive was supposed to be the start. You made it sound like the whole job.”

Claire looked away.

”Look at me,” Roxie said.

Claire’s eyes came back to her.

Roxie’s cheek pulsed. Her throat hurt. Her whole body felt shaky, but she kept standing.

”You chose Steve.”

Claire shook her head. ”I didn’t choose him.”

”You did. You chose him when you believed him. You chose him when you blamed me. You chose him when you looked at me like I invited it.”

Claire’s face folded with anger. ”You always twist things.”

”You twisted me first.”

Claire went silent.

Roxie’s voice broke, but she forced the next words out.

”I came here tonight because I still loved you.”

Claire stared at her.

”I hated myself for it,” Roxie said. ”I hated myself the whole way here. I hated that I saw you on that bench and still wanted to take you home. I hated that you looked cold and I wanted to feed you. I hated that you looked terrible and I still wanted to call you Mom.”

Claire’s lips parted.

Roxie shook her head.

”But you don’t want to be my mom. You want to be the victim of having me.”

Claire flinched.

Roxie laughed once, and it came out broken.

”You don’t want a daughter. You want someone to blame every time your life is shitty.”

Claire’s face hardened again. ”You think you’re better than me.”

”No,” Roxie said. ”I think I’m done begging you to want me.”

The park went quiet.

Claire stared at her.

Roxie waited for the panic to come back. She waited for the part of her that always reached for Claire first.

It was still there.

Of course it was still there.

It was crying. It was scared. It wanted Claire to say sorry. It wanted Claire to touch her face and call her baby and take it all back.

Roxie hated that part.

But for once, she did not let it talk.

Claire’s voice came out low. ”Then go.”

Roxie nodded.

”I am.”

Claire’s mouth tightened. ”Go cry to Prescott.”

Roxie held her stare.

”I probably will,” she said. ”At least he cares when I cry.”

Claire’s face changed.

Roxie turned before she could take it back.

Ethan moved with her.

Claire shouted behind them. ”Roxxane.”

Roxie stopped.

Every part of her reacted to her name.

She hated that too.

She turned her head.

Claire stood under the park light with tears on her face and anger in her mouth.

For one second, Roxie waited.

She gave Claire one last opening.

One last chance to say anything that sounded like love.

Claire wiped her face roughly. ”You’ll come back.”

Roxie stared at her.

Then she shook her head.

”No,” Roxie said. ”I won’t.”

Claire’s face twisted.

Roxie turned away.

Ethan kept himself between them as they walked back to the motorcycle.

Roxie kept walking even when her knees felt weak.

Her cheek burned.

Her ears rang.

Her hands felt numb inside her sleeves.

The tears kept coming, but she let them fall.

At the motorcycle, Roxie lifted the helmet with unsteady hands.

Her fingers fumbled with the strap twice before Ethan reached over and fastened it. He kept his eyes on the buckle.

That almost made her cry again.

He saw she was falling apart and made nothing harder.

She climbed onto the motorcycle behind him and held on.

The ride home was silent except for the engine and the wind.

Roxie kept one hand near her cheek inside the helmet, pressing lightly where the heat had started to settle into an ache.

When they reached Roxie’s street, the house was dark except for the porch light.

Ethan slowed near the curb.

Roxie lifted her head.

Then she saw him.

Zac was sitting on her porch steps, hood up, elbows on his knees, phone in one hand.

Waiting.