December (The Page Sisters Book 1) (4 page)

T
HE
P
RESENT

There’s nothing better than spending time with your family on lazy Sunday afternoons. Flopping down on the cushion next to July with a big plastic bowl of cheddar Ruffles in hand, I curl up next to my sister, who is completely engrossed with the music video. Chloe, a full-fledged purebred Rottweiler, jumps on the couch and stretches her solid body across me and my sister’s lap. She looks up at me with those large chocolate brown-colored eyes, begging for chips. Rubbing her massive head, I feed her a few. I’m a sucker when she begins to beg. Chloe knows this. She manipulates me with those big ole eyes and she has me wrapped around her large doggy paw.

Shaking my head, I watch her floppy cheeks go to work as she chomps down. She’s technically Danny’s dog. He bought her when she was only a pup. It was right before he disappeared four years ago. He asked if I could take care of her for him until he got back. She’s been with me ever since.

Running my fingers over her shiny fur, I look at the screen and my joy instantly shrivels up.

“Why are you watching this?” I ask July.

“Has he lost his mind?”

She sounds shocked.

I stare at the TV with utter hatred. Jarvis’s new video called
Cold One
plays. It’s the premiere on MTV. It’s about July. He has a girl that has similar features like July. She has light grey eyes and long dark honey blond locks like her.

But she doesn’t have my sister’s exotic beauty. Nope. Not at all. She’s just a cheap knockoff. The girl in the video ends up scheming behind Jarvis’s back, planning to murder him with his drummer, Mac, her secret lover and accomplice.

Mac and Wannabe July takes turns poisoning his food and drinks while Jarvis sings somberly into the microphone on a faded out stage. It shows clips of Wannabe July and Mac having the best quickies while Jarvis works hard on writing music and signing posters for fans.

Clips of Jarvis bending over the toilet, puking from the poison flash across the screen. Then it shows him in the hospital, hooked up to a ventilator. The Wannabe July comes into his room, dressed like a nurse Elle Driver style and shoots him in the heart with a black pistol. After that Wannabe July gets pounded doggy-style by Mac.

When they lie down together she slits Mac’s throat right before he falls asleep. The video ends with Wannabe July lounging in her white lace lingerie covered in blood Carrie-style laughing while she cuddles next to Mac’s lifeless body.

July’s face pales, her fingers gripping her hair like a madwoman. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She leaps from the couch and runs into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

“That sadistic fucker,” I mumble under my breath while I stuff cheddar Ruffles into my mouth. Chloe eats what spills on my shirt. I’m totally astonished, dumbfounded, at a loss for words for his stupidity and for what he’s putting my sister through.

Jarvis and July were deeply in love way before Jarvis and his band became famous. They both loved to write music and sing. They both got matching tattoos in the midst of their passionate relationship. She got
His
tatted across her left rib and Jarvis got
Hers
in the same place. She was his and Jarvis was hers. Their love was off the charts. They were on another level. Their love was a Romeo and Juliet slash Bonnie and Clyde type of romance.

Jarvis used to steal luxury cars for some underground chop-shop king. And he got away with it. He was good at it. He was really good at it and he made a bucket load of cash from it. But one day something went wrong. He got jumped by a rival gang on the job and called July to come and pick him up afterwards. He couldn’t really drive with two broken arms. But when she got to the scene the police arrived. Before Jarvis could say anything, she took the blame for the entire incident, not wanting Jarvis to have a record because of his rock star dreams of making it big. July spent six months in juvie for him. In return, he got out of the shady business and began concentrating on his music, making demos for record labels.

He ends up landing a huge deal at HeadBanger Records. July and Jarvis grew even closer after she got released. He asked her to move into his swanky condo in New York and she did. She gave up her life once again for him. But something went terribly wrong one late night, as in devastatingly wrong, at a party. Jarvis accused her of sleeping with his former drummer, Hex. He humiliated her and publicly threw her out of his condo with barely the clothes on her back. She didn’t have any money to get back home. Mom and I had to take the first flight out to go get a completely brokenhearted July and bring her home.

She doesn’t talk about it with anyone. But I suspect Jarvis’s truth isn’t the real truth. She’s been home ever since, volunteering at the homeless shelter a few days out of the week and taking night classes to become a nurse. Jarvis has been making money off her misery and Hex dropped out of the entertainment business altogether. He moved to Houston, Texas. I think he owns a bails bonds business now. Hex hasn’t come forth with anything, either. No one really knows what happened between the two of them. Neither one of them will talk. They are definitely keeping it under tight lock and key. 

No matter what happened that night, Jarvis had no right putting my sister out like an unwanted dog. The anger inside of me boils. The things I can’t wait to tell him when he comes home. I throw some chips at his face on the screen, wanting to take a pair of rusty pliers to his nipple rings.

“That’s not nice, December,” my mom says, coming to sit by me on the couch. Chloe jumps out of the way to become the doggy vacuum, eating up the chips on the carpet. 

I look into my mother’s deep golden brown eyes. “Mama, you know what he did to July. That was wrong. He’s making her the villain when he’s the bad guy. He’s making money off her despair. I’ll have some words for him when he comes home.”

“She won’t talk to us, honey. We don’t know what happened between the three of them. It’s been a year since they broke up. But he has invited her on tour with him.”

I’m unable to control the pure disgust that contorts my face. “Why the hell would she go on tour with that egoistical, self-absorbed, jealous psycho asshole?”

“Language, December,” she chides sternly, the no-nonsense Moroccan woman coming out of her. “They have a song together.”

My eyes pop out of my head. “What?”

She nods, reaching in the bowl to grab a handful of chips. “It’s really popular. It’s been playing all over the radio and everything.”

Well.

Damn.

No wonder I didn’t know. I hardly listen to the radio and I hate watching any kind of news. All of my time is dedicated to my job at the Lazy Ville Sanctuary, caring for the animals. “She should have told me.”

“She didn’t want to disappoint you. She knows you don’t like him.”

Settling back on the couch, I exhale through the frustration. I’m fiercely protective of all my sisters. Since no one is good enough to provide the protection that’s up to my gold standard I placed myself in that head position. I may be the youngest one, but I am the most aggressive one. Not only will I take a bullet for each of them, I will kill for them. And I’m known for my brand of protectiveness (when I say protectiveness I really mean cruelty) when it comes to defending my sisters. I took a baseball bat to my sister January’s ex-boyfriend brand-new mustang when he physically abused her and cheated on her.

Oh.

I took that bat to his nuts as well. He’s a sick fucker who enjoyed getting his balls bashed in by a pissed off female.

“I’m going to go check on her,” I say to my mom, passing her the bowl of chips. Dusting the crumbs from my lap for Chloe to suck up, I stand and make my way down the hall to the bathroom.

I lightly knock on the locked door. “Hey, it’s me. Open up.”

There’s a long stretch of silence before she unlocks it, allowing me. She wipes at her red watery eyes when she closes the door back. The guilt hits me like a punch to the gut when I take one look at her face.

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugs and sits on the countertop of the ceramic tub. “You didn’t do anything.”

Leaning back on the sink cabinets I stare at my sister, wondering if we’re all doomed to forever be pessimists because of the consequences of the monumental presence of an absentee father. Maybe our issues with men stems from not having our father around. I’m sure there are a slew of people with daddy issues, but it’s more prominent for all of us. We each feel that distinctive ache of being unwanted, unloved every second of every day. Every little girl should have a father who loves and protects them.

“I’m not mad at you,” I tell her. “But you should have told me about the song, though.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to hear it.”

“What?” I shout offended. “I live to support you and your dreams. I want a live performance now.”

She looks at me, a small grin curving her lips. “I don’t think I have in me to sing that song right now. But I have been working on something new.”

“Bring it on. I’m listening.”

My sister is going to be a fucking star.

I just know it.

It’s a sure thing.

I feel it in my bones.

“Okay.” She closes her eyes and her soft voice begins to carry me away to a gentle paradise of broken hearts and tortured loved. Shutting my eyes I listen to her soulful lyrics.

I love you, baby

More than you’ll ever know

More than you’ll ever know

I’m sorry for the way I made you feel

Made you feel

I did wrong

I know

I know

But it’s really out of my control

Really out of my control

I don’t want to see you go

You made up your mind

Yeah

I know

I know

So there’s nothing more for me to do

To do

But to love you like I do

And that’s tragic enough

But I can’t seem to let go

There’s no comprising

I know

I know

Everything isn’t what it seems, though

Your perception of me is illusionary

You never trusted me to begin with

You threw me out your door

And that really is messed up

Yeah

I know

I know

My heart is bursting at the seams, though

The things you think I did is misinterpreted

I didn’t hurt you

But I hurt you

Drowning in an ocean of you

Of you

Wishing I was touching you

There’s nothing else for me to do

But love you

Tragic

I know

I know

“That’s beautiful, July. You’re very talented. It’s a hit. I’m claiming it.”

She looks up from her lap, her gaze fixed on the wall behind me. Her expression is a million miles away. “I’m so nervous.”

“What? Why? It’s amazing.”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. I’m not nervous about strangers listening to the heartbeat of my soul. It’s Jarvis. I don’t think I can survive his mind games and judgment.”

“Don’t let him get to you, July. Your voice is out of this world good. You’re a star, and if he’s too stupid to realize, then fuck him.” 

She smiles up at me. “My number one fan.”

I give my head a nod. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

“You know, Dee, I wish I was as strong as you. You’re so independent and spirited. Your face should be the poster for the feminist movement. I’m a doormat.”

“Don’t say that, July. You’re sweet. And I’ve seen you when you’re passed pissed. You’re a merciless lioness.”

“Can we hug now?”

“Yep.”

We embrace each other for a while. “Love you, Dee Dee.”

“Love you too, July.”

“Do you love me enough to tell me about Mr. Danny?”

“Who?” I ask, playing dumb. “Looks like it’s time to go.”

I break apart from her, but she grabs my arm before I can flee out the door. “Oh, no you don’t. I want details. Spill it, December.”

“Umm…” Wanting to skip the drunken crying part, I begin with what happened this morning. “I gave him a hand job this morning, simply returning the favor of course. He cooked me breakfast. Fed me from his hand like it was his sole purpose on earth.

He froze and shut down when I asked about Piper. He told me he wasn’t good enough for me, but that isn’t going to keep him from claiming my virginity and making me his. Whatever that means. He invited me to dinner, told me to bring an overnight bag and dropped me off. Mind you, everything didn’t happen in the order I told it.”