Status: Internet at home sucks where we live, so i'm not sure when I'll be able to update next. :/

Release Me, so I Can Convince Myself That I'm Better off Without You

“I called you because I wanted to take my bike for a spin, not because I wanted to talk.”

It was two weeks later, after I had formed a nice bond with the Madden family, that Benji said it; those three words that I didn’t believe in. We were lying on his bed with the TV on and Cashdogg lying at the foot of the bed. We were completely clothed; him in jeans and a tee, and me in shorts and a crop tee. It was calming and sort of romantic, until he turned to me.

“Kimmy,” He mumbled, softly. “Can I be honest with you?”

If I were to be honest, I’d confess that, that question and the way he asked it with a soft, underlying tone made my heartbeat speed up. Not in the good way, either. Oh no, it was the ‘I’m scared to hear this’ kind of way. Still, I nodded my head and said “yes,” just to hear what he had to say.

“I care for you,” He admitted, looking at me with those honest eyes of his. “And I feel like it’s time for that next step, but I want to meet your family first.”

“The next step . . . ?” I questioned, sitting up.

“I love you, Kimberlyn.”

Any other girl would’ve been happy to hear him say that, but I wasn’t. If anything, I was freaked out. Benji couldn’t love me. It just wasn’t possible.

“Benji, no,” I sighed. “Please don’t say that,”

“Why not Kim?” He exasperated. “Don’t you love me, too?”

“Benji, I can’t love you.” I mumbled, struggling to put my shoes on. “I care about you, I do. I just can’t love you.”

Benji jumped up after me as I left the room in a hurry. “Where are you going?”

“I can’t do this,” I told him, shaking my head as I practically flew down the stairs.

He caught up with me just before I reached the door, yanking me back to him by my wrist. “Why can’t you love me?” He questioned, clearly upset.

“I just can’t, Benji. You don’t understand.”

“Is it because you’re scared?” He exclaimed. “Or is it because what Vengeance says is true; you’re nothing but a home-wrecking slut incapable of feelings.”


That was four days ago, and life has been anything but pleasant. My phone was being blown up every day with calls and texts from people, but I didn’t answer or reply to any of them. The first day and a half I just ignored the blaring sound of my Good Charlotte ringtone, but halfway through the second day, I turned it on silent to save what little sanity I had left. Most of them were from Joel and Nicole, but there were some from the Avenged family, too. Apparently, the guys love to discuss my love life like it’s the latest gossip or some stupid shit like that.

Anyway, I mainly just ignored everyone, so I wouldn’t have to hear them apologize. I didn’t want to talk to anyone or discuss my feelings. I just wanted to be left alone, and not be bothered with what wasn’t any of anyone else’s business.

The tabloids were having a field day with the news of Benji and me “taking a break.” Everywhere I went, I saw pictures of us on magazine covers with captions like, “The Dream Team is over,” and “No Love for Madden with Kimmy Gone.” The worst one of all said, “What Blonde Will Benji Date Next?” The media didn’t like me, and it showed with the slurs they made against me. They apparently had “sources” in one magazine that told them I cheated on Benji with his older brother Josh. In another one, I cheated on Benji with Joel, and now Nicole and I were fighting. One magazine claimed that I only wanted Benji for his money. It was all getting on my nerves; them bad-mouthing my name just for some juicy gossip.

Since I didn’t have a photo shoot or any photography gigs to do today, I was stuck at home with nothing to do. I didn’t want to lay around all day and dwell in my thoughts, so I picked up the house and washed clothes for most of the day until I could no longer handle being in my house.

When I finally did reach that point, I found myself grabbing my phone to dial-in a familiar number on the dial pad.
Hello,

“Is your bike out of the shop, yet?”

Image


An hour later, I was climbing off my custom-design bike, decked out in my matching leather jacket and boots. Pulling my helmet off, I shook my hair out and placed the helmet on top of the bike. Afterwards, I slipped my aviators over my eyes and made my way inside the joint.

Tall, muscular, and handsome greeted me at the bar with sunglasses and a smirk on his face. On the other side of the bar, the owner of the joint was cleaning glasses and talking to Mr. Handsome.

“Hey Kimberly,” The Owner greeted when he saw me.

I smiled at him. “Hello, Johnny.” I replied before turning to Mr. Good-looking. “You ready . . . ?”

“Yeah, come on,” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and started guiding me out of the bar with his calloused hand on the small of my back. “See you later, Johnny,”

The two of us made our way back outside, stopping once we were by our bikes.

“I see you still have your Barbie bike,” He nodded, pulling a pack of Marlboro’s from his pants pocket. I nodded back at him as I watched him light a cigarette and bring it to his lips. “So, what’s up, babe? Everyone’s been trying to get a hold of you, but you won’t return any of our messages.”

“I know,” I mumbled, looking around at the people near us. “I’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been busy . . .?” He scoffed, chuckling at my lame excuse. “Now, you’re lying to me . . .? Come on, babe, I know you. I fucking dated you on and off all through high school. We have a connection. I was your first everything, and now you’re just going to ignore all of that because your pride is in the way . . .? What aren’t you telling me?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him. “I called you because I wanted to take my bike for a spin, not because I wanted to talk.”

He dropped his cigarette, stomping it out with the toe of his sneaker before stepping closer to me. “Oh, come on, Kimber,” He huffed. “Don’t give me that bullshit.” He rolled his eyes at me. “You and I both you’re just dying to open that pretty little mouth of yours up, so why don’t you, huh? What’s stopping you?”

“God, you’re an ass,” I huffed.

He laughed. “They don’t call me Synyster for nothing, sweetcheeks.” He grinned at me. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?”

“I’m guessing you’ve all talked to Joel.” I sighed, defeated. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“Just that you and Benji got into some kind of argument, and Benji said some things he didn’t mean.” He shrugged. “That’s all Benji would tell him.”

What part of our fight didn’t he mean? The part where he told me he loved me or the part where he called me a home-wrecking slut?

“Oh,” I mumbled. “Brian, he . . . he told me he loved me . . .“ I confessed. “And I freaked out,”

“Isn’t that a good thing? That he loves you, I mean.”

“I. . . Well, I don’t know. . . Honestly, Brian, it scares me.” I mumbled. “I wanna love him—I really do—but I can’t. It’s like I have Vengeance in my head, telling me I’m no good enough and that I’ll always be a slut.”

“What does Vengeance have to do with this?”

“I was pregnant,” I admitted calmly. “Or at least I thought I was, when I caught him with my sister. It was only a false alarm, but I was such a wreck, Brian. I honestly don’t know how I kept myself from freaking out on him.

“I thought I loved Vengeance for some reason. I guess it was because there were moments where he made me so happy that I felt like the most important woman in the world.” I shook my head, feeling so stupid. “That wasn’t love that I was feeling, though. It was more like a feeling of accomplishment because I finally had something that my sister wanted. I was selfish then—I know that, now—but my sister got everything she ever wanted. She was the pretty one, the successful one, and the polite one in the family while I was the slut of the family, always looking for some kind of attention, even if it was negative. I just wanted to feel loved, but instead, I let Vengeance hold me back because he claimed to feel that way.” I shook my head, feeling a lone tear escape down my cheek. “I’m a slut, Brian; nothing but damaged goods. How can Benji love someone like me?”

“Whoa!” Brian mumbled. “Let’s slow down here. Who said you were a slut?”

“Zacky,” I mumbled, leaning against the wall behind me. “A couple weeks ago, when Benji and I went clubbing with you guys. He stopped me at the bar, telling me I was no better than my sister because all he had to do was kiss me and I was spreading my legs for him.”

“That’s why you were freaking out that night,” He concluded. “I should have known.” He shook his head, disappointedly. “Kimmy, babe, you’re not a slut. I know you better than Zacky ever will, and I know how cautious you are. How long did you make Madden wait before he got to tap that ass of yours?”

“Three weeks,”

“Exactly,” Brian exclaimed, knowingly. “The whole thing with Baker is in the past. Look at you now; you’re gorgeous, babe, and with Madden in your life, you’re the happiest I’ve ever seen you.” He reached forward to push my hair behind my ear. “I think you love him, Kimber. You’re just scared of what could happen.” He stared down at me with honest eyes as he said his next words. “Maybe you’ll feel better after you talk to your family. That means Mirabelle too. The two of you were once inseparable; you need to fix that.”

Brian Haner Junior could be an ass, but he sure as hell knew me like the back of his hand. He always knew what I needed, and for the life of me, I could never figure out how—but he did.