by Kyle Rutkin
Get rid of me. I’m no good. Don’t you see? He will never leave me. I did what I had to do. I can’t trust myself.
“Who will never leave you?” Sara kept saying. “What are you doing? Don’t do this.” She reached out for my arm while I was punching the walls. “Stop it!”
I knocked her over. She screamed. No! What had I done? I hurt her. Just like my father hurt my mother. Just like her ex-husband. I did it. I did it. I collapsed to the floor. I touched her arm. She cringed, turned away. She had finally seen me for what I was.
I destroyed everything.
I deserve everything.
Bob smiled from across Kelly’s mansion. The memory turned and twisted in the dark fog. He was showing off. More images swirled through the mist.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sara shouted from her front lawn. The man from the picture had come out with her. He was holding her hand.
I am protecting you. Don’t you see? He is going to hurt you.
My gaze turned to Sara, then back to the man.
Sara wasn’t scared of him.
She was scared of me.
“What are you doing, Kaleb? I’m calling the police.”
I pleaded, “If I could just . . .”
She stopped me, mid-sentence. “It’s over,” she said firmly. “You need to get help. You need to stop. We have to move on with our lives.”
Another line.
“Stop driving by the house.”
Another swig.
“I don’t want to go to the police. But I will.”
Another pill.
“I am no longer yours.”
The voice changed. Sara smiled in the fog of Kelly’s castle. Her voice still echoed through the speakers. She reached out to me, “I love you, Kaleb. Thank you for protecting me. Do you miss me?”
“Yes.”
“We had a good life, once.”
“I know.”
“You saved me.”
“I know.”
“Come back.”
“I can’t.”
“Protect me.”
“Alice.”
“Protect me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She reached her hand lower and lower, till I could almost touch it. I could feel her warmth and her love. I could see her smile…
“Come back, Kaleb.”
The image of her swirled away in the fog.
I stumbled through the party, a bottle to my mouth, my other hand reaching into the mist. She was gone. The smoke rolled across my shoulders. Lights beamed across the shadows. I saw Kelly. The birthday girl.
Oh, my beautiful fantasy. She was mine. She was dancing from room to room. Neon green bracelets jangled around her wrist. There was a lollipop in her mouth. Pupils enlarged. Sweat coated her brow. Jez was with her, her large breasts held in a tiny bikini top. Colors swirled across their bodies. They both turned to me, giggling.
Bob tipped his hat from across the room, “This is for the best.”
I raised my glass. This was a fine fate.
“Cheers, motherfucker.”
Jez passed me the dollar bill. I sat back on the couch and closed my eyes. Kelly climbed on my lap. I’ll follow you anywhere. She placed a pill on my tongue, and I swallowed. She kissed my cheek and then my mouth. Our lips moved back and forth, my teeth softly biting her bottom lip. Her lips felt good. Her tongue felt better.
Anything you ask. I am yours.
The pill kicked in. The euphoria was never-ending. We danced in a dark room with neon lights. Where she went, I followed. I felt her body, and I wanted every part of her. She was wearing a silky black dress, and her hair was up in a bun. She turned her backside to me to dance. I touched every curve. I felt someone watching us—a kid with buzzed hair standing in the corner, drinking.
Lights flashed across Kelly’s face. I looked back over at the kid. In between the strobes and darkness. It wasn’t a clear look. But I remember that scar on his left eye. A deep scowl. I can’t forget that face. Kelly directed my attention toward her. I rubbed my hands on her thighs.
She led me down a hallway. People were hooking up against the wall, their bodies propped against one another. She turned back to me, laughing, her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. She slipped into a dark room, illuminated by a neon sign and one strobe light. She pushed me against the wall, wrapping her fingers around my head. I pulled off her slinky dress. She was wearing a glow-in-the-dark thong. My hands gripped her tiny bare cheeks, and my momentum carried her toward the bed.
She fell flat onto the mattress and I lowered my head to her crotch. She arched her back to accommodate. I began licking away at her soft flesh, enjoying every taste, extending my tongue and repeating the process. She tasted so good. The high never stopped. I heard the door open.
A petite redhead entered the room. Jez. She was holding a stack of papers and smiling nervously. Kelly opened her eyes and grinned. Jez came over to the bed and lay down next to Kelly. They started kissing.
Jez let down her hair, mid-kiss. Long, red hair. Soft freckles scattered over her ample ass and enormous chest. She was gorgeous. She pulled her panties off effortlessly. Kelly kissed her freckly white skin. They had done this before.
I didn’t like that she was kissing Kelly.
I tried to curb my craving by going back down to Kelly’s soft skin below, but she stopped me. She pushed me back and pointed down to the stack of papers. The pen I had given Kelly entered my hands.
“Let’s write a new story, Kaleb.”
I grabbed the pen that once saved my life. I stared into Kelly’s eyes.
I didn’t back down.
I wanted more. I wanted everything. I signed my name. Take me away. I kissed Kelly’s soft lips. She directed me toward Jez. I kissed her soft lips.
I went to lay Kelly down on the bed, but she turned away and arched her back up to me. I saw the opening from behind. I slipped my penis inside of her. My entire body shook with pleasure. Pure ecstasy. The strobe lights cascaded bright colors all over her backside. Kelly did all the work, moving her ass up and down. I wanted the feeling to last forever. Jez followed suit and arched her ass alongside Kelly’s. Kelly pulled away and directed me toward Jez.
I did what I was told. My leader. Jez’s ass jiggled back and forth; her soft skin wrapped tightly around me. My eyes lingered on Kelly as she watched us in the darkness. Our gazes met. The strobe light flashed. I saw Sara’s face. My stomach tightened. Her innocent, sweet, beautiful, perfect, face. My breath was shallow. I reached for her.
The light flashed again, and Sara vanished.
My heartbeat pounded. Breath panicked. What was happening? I was still inside Jez, her backside clapping together. I pushed harder and harder, thrusting with rage. But nothing calmed me. Fear slithered through my veins.
Bob was in the corner, pointing, laughing. You finally get it, don’t you? I took her away. I win. I win. I win. What the fuck? Anger. More rage. Harder and harder into Jez. My jaw clenched.
My vision blurred. I knew I was about to come. I didn’t want to—not with Jez. I pulled out and moved toward Kelly. I win. I win. I win. I felt myself go inside Kelly and I looked straight into her eyes, hoping to see Sara. Where is she?
Colorful lights flashed across her face. Take me away. Cobalt blue. It was Kelly. We stared at each other intensely. I didn’t back down. The rage in my heart exploded. She bit her lip, gliding the sides of her thumb near my mouth. I bit down on her fingers.
Jez was nowhere to be seen as I came inside of Kelly.
I woke up naked in Kelly’s bed. Alone. The sun peered into the room and blinded me. I walked downstairs through a spotless house. No sign of the night, as usual. Kelly wasn’t in the study. Her bags were gone. There was no note. I looked out the window and saw a black truck pull out of the driveway. An old pickup truck, cracked windshield, unwashed. The same truck I saw again on the night she died.
“And that, detective, is what I remember most about that night.�
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LIZZY: Pardon my language, but that house was fucking cursed.
JEZ: To be honest, Kaleb scared me a little. I didn’t mind, as long as Kelly was there.
LIZZY: I’ve never seen that truck before in my life.
JEZ: That truck belonged to Noah Tash.
The Real Kelly Trozzo
TheInsideJuice.com Interview 2019
INSIDEJUICE: Tell me about your relationship with Noah Tash.
TROZZO: Noah was my first love. After my sixteenth birthday party, my heart belonged to him. I laugh thinking about it now. This giddy little teenybopper, skipping around the set, conjuring fantasies of a happily ever after. But in my defense, Noah played the part. He replaced my darkness with cute text messages and secret glances. He did little things, like bringing flowers to set and leaving notes in my trailer. Our first time was on set—right on the Claireborn family’s old red leather couch. If that couch could talk! Filled with memories of young Zoe learning how to play the guitar or writing her first ballad with Lizzy. Then memories of me getting fingers shoved down my pants, then my bra, and then my cherry popped.
I took a pregnancy test on the night before my seventeenth birthday. I was in my trailer with Lizzy. She was just a kid at the time, fifteen years old. She told me it was going to be okay as I cried on her shoulder. I wanted to believe her, I did. But deep down, I knew that the fairy tale was over. Underage princesses don’t get pregnant.
The Blog of Kaleb Reed
July 23, 2019
I need you here
My courageous knight
Destroy this fear
This heart of mine
Is all I hold dear.
—Princess Jade (From the theme of Castle Heart)
That song haunts me. That annoyingly whimsical ballad, with its overdramatic piano riffs and sappy lyrics, played on repeat in minivans. I got a little carried away last night in the motel. I’m almost out of drugs.
Another bout of swirling images and nightmares. It was a doozy. Perseus made an appearance, holding a shield with the head of Medusa carved into the bronze. The venomous snakes on her head came to life, slithering toward me. Her glowing eyes opened. She hissed, “You’ll never save her.”
Cold air swept across my face. I was paddling a small rowboat as choppy waves crashed over the side. Kelly was tied to a rock in the middle of the sea, struggling to break free. White foam cascaded over her naked body. She was screaming for me. I paddled and paddled as fast as I could.
A monster rose up from the darkness, its fangs extended. The monster devoured her in one gulp.
A powerful wave swept across my boat, knocking me into the depths of the dark water.
I was drowning.
Sinking.
Deeper and deeper.
Reaching up to the fading light.
I was in Kelly’s bedroom. A silhouette of the theme park mouse with a dagger in hand appeared on her wall. Animated bluebirds floated over her bed. White pills showered down upon me. I screamed, digging through the mountain of prescription pills. I couldn’t find her. Then I realized…
We were outside.
I stared at her stunning white gown soaked with blood, dripping across the driveway. Her song pulsated in my ears. I pulled her in my arms. What have I done? The princess is dead. What have I done? I was rocking her body back and forth. I’m sorry.
I open my eyes.
I’m in the motel. Among stale sheets and bloody pillowcases.
There is no air in my lungs.
I’m sweating, panicking.
I reach for the nightstand next to the bed. Pills, lines, vodka. Anything.
I hear Nathan’s voice.
Face this.
Face this.
I take a swig.
Snort a line.
Swallow a pill.
Take a deep breath.
That’s better.
I lay my head back on the pillow. The television is still on. The picture comes back into focus. A panel of experts discussing the only event that America wants to hear about. I don’t mind. I’m starting to enjoy seeing my face on the screen. America’s Most Wanted. It has a nice ring to it. The Hunt for Kaleb Reed Continues. Perhaps this was the ending I’d always imagined. The ending I always wanted. Right here. In this very motel. It’s a very special place.
“Did you read the novel, Kim? It’s essentially a stalker handbook. We’re looking into the mind of a very psychologically disturbed person.”
“Yes. I read it. Granted, there were a few disturbing scenes. But on a whole, I don’t think we can judge a man by the fiction he’s written.”
“Martin, can you weigh in here? Will Kaleb Reed have a fair trial with a book like this? What jury in their right mind wouldn’t read see the blueprints of a killer in these pages?”
They do have a point. I’m capable of dreadful things. Do you want to know my favorite section of my book? I think it’s appropriate to share. It’s the chapter where AJ had just rented a house in St. Charles, Missouri. He had discovered the whereabouts of Alice, after a year of searching.
It was a humble place, a one-bedroom with an old brick fireplace. He didn’t need much. He had no furniture, no belongings. Only a mattress. On his second day there, he was driving to the grocery store. That’s when he saw her, walking, crying, rain matting down her long blonde hair. In AJ’s head, it was fate. He stopped his car, opened the door.
“AJ? What the hell are you doing here?” Alice yelled, angrily.
He didn’t have a choice. He had to tell her. “I came to find you.”
It was a lot to take in for Alice. But she was vulnerable, scared. Soaking wet. She had run out in the cold after a fight with her husband. It was complicated. She was complicated. In real life and fiction. She went home with AJ that night. They were together for the first time. He finally got a taste. A woman he had been chasing for ten years. And it was everything he’d imagined.
She felt it too. She had to. Because they were destined to be together. This was surely the start of their new life. A good life. The life that AJ had always dreamed of.
In the morning, he woke to find the other side of his bed was empty. He heard her footsteps on the creaky staircase. He ran and caught her just before she went out the door.
AJ yelled, “You’re not going back to him, are you?”
Alice looked up at him. “I didn’t ask you to come here, AJ.”
“But why?” He was shocked, hurt, disappointed.
She hesitated. “Please go home.”
Then she walked out the door. AJ had given everything to this girl. For what? Would she ever be his? His thoughts felt poisoned. He was angry. He got a taste. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. He needed her attention. She needed to know he wasn’t going away. He showed up at the post office. Her gym. He drove by her house. It didn’t work. She was hiding.
He was forced to do something bold.
It all sounds so familiar.
Two weeks after her birthday, Kelly went back on tour. After the incidents in Philadelphia and at the movie premiere, Barry banned me from all public appearances. I couldn’t join Kelly on tour. I was a liability. I was bad for her image. The cuddling, the sex, the drugs, the fantasy, the parties—gone. Poof. I was already hanging by a thread. She was the only thing that I had left to cling to.
My apartment became a prison. Self-induced quarantine. Kelly was everywhere. The computer. The television. My dreams. The grocery store tabloids. The odds were in her favor. I wanted to be in her bed, just one more night, one more moment. I wanted to fuck her on the dresser. I wanted to shove her head on the pillow and put my head against hers and bite her ear and fuck as hard as I could.
Sobriety was no longer an option. I scored whatever was available. Used without restraint. No more meetings. No more Sara. No more routine. I threw it all away. For what? A pop star? A book? What did you think would happen when she left me? I can hear Nathan’s grunt from here. Yes, it was my choice.
I vanished into the digital landscape. A never-ending pit of online trash. I said it was research. Laughable. It was an obsession. Googling. Clicking. Watching. Staring. Consuming. I read every comment. I watched every video. A clip of a fan on stage in Houston, sobbing into her hands. Kelly pinned a brass KT logo on the girl’s jacket and she collapsed onto the stage, overwhelmed with emotions.
They were all seeking a greater purpose.
A tribe to belong to.
A place to feel safe.
I kept clicking. I wanted more. The fantasy wasn’t enough. I had a taste of the real thing. Hours, days would go by. I didn’t write a thing. The sun rose and set from my worn-down mattress. I drank bottle after bottle. I needed something more than a pin on my shirt.
I needed a chance at redemption.
I browsed images of Barry Monroe. His enormous stature always lingered in the background. At concerts. Hollywood sets. Red carpets. With his oversized suits, his dark beard and yellow glasses. Monitoring from afar. He was the one responsible for keeping me from Kelly. I didn’t need to read the articles, or the horrible lawsuits. I didn’t need to watch the depressing testimonies of his former artists. He was an evil man.
I wondered what he did to Kelly? How he hurt her?
He knew that I would protect her.
That’s why he kept us apart.
I revisited my favorite bar. Did drugs in the bathroom. Blacked out.
One week became two. Two became three. Kelly’s messages were casual and short, excessive emoticons, abbreviated words. I couldn’t communicate like that.
She texted me the picture she took of us in bed together. She was leaning into my chest, grinning. The bed sheets barely covered her chest. My face was slightly turned into the pillow. It was intimate. But more importantly, it was proof. We were more than friends. I liked that. I needed that. I craved more. But there were other things too. The fame. It gave me a rush.