by Nicci Harris
“NO! I need to get this all out now,” I continue speaking through sharp breaths. Choking and coughing out the words because I need them out, all of them. I want them out of my mind, and I want them out of my life.
“The next year was like a nightmare. I was hollow. I was still her, but I wasn’t. I was no one. I sliced my thigh open in the tub.”
“Christ, I don't wanna hear this, Blesk. Stop” he cries, tightening every muscle that is holding us both together. “This hurts. It hurts so bad to hear you talk like this.”
I just keep talking as if the words are vomit, and with each heave I need them expelled. “I wanted to die. I was a terrible daughter who didn’t know how to love my mum or dad.” I gasp for air before continuing on. “I put them through hell, I put you through hell. Erik found me bleeding out in the bathtub.” I was dying all over again, and I wanted to this time. I just wanted the hurt to end, the guilt—”
“Please stop talking, please, I can’t take it. Everything you’ve been through is breaking my fucking heart. I need a second. Please, just focus on breathing.” He holds me to him, his hand wrapped around the back of my head, and his fingers entwined in my hair. As he rocks us back and forth, he mutters over and over again, “Just focus on breathing. Just focus on breathing. Just focus on breathing.”
I sniffle and press my cheek into his chest. “I hated myself. I hated myself, and I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry, Deakon. For being so weak. For giving up when you are so strong. I could—”
“SHIT! Liz, fucking stop talking, I can’t hear any more!” he shouts. He tightens his arms around me further and comes completely undone, sobbing into our embrace. Pain cuts through my core as his sounds become so fitful that I fear I may hear them every time I close my eyes. He broke. I broke him.
✽✽✽
I cringe at the dawn, my head throbbing, and my eyes dry from dehydration. We cried ourselves to sleep. If you cry long enough, sleep is your body’s innate way to regulate; I have always taken comfort in that fact. The pain will stop eventually, my body will shut down, and slumber will suck me into peaceful incoherence. As I slowly wake and spread my fingers across the sheets, Konnor’s side of the bed is cold. My chest tightens. I knew he would leave; I knew it would be too much for him to bear. Flapping at me from the bedside table is a letter.
Duchess,
I woke up, and you were still asleep. I watched you sleep for a while, feeling like everything has gotten so fucked up. But, don’t worry, beautiful, I haven’t left. I’ve just gone for a walk to clear my head. That was horrific. But… it was good as well, Duch. It was good because we have no secrets now. We are finally in this together again.
To think you were in the same hospital as me when they told me you had died. I should have looked for you. I should have known you were alive. I should have felt it.
Whoever that man was who tried to kill you in the hospital, he was sick. You are not to blame for anything. I never for one second thought that. And I will make damn sure no one else ever will.
I will never understand why you did what you did, I will never be able to get those words out of my head, I will never be able to get that picture out my head, because I would have died, everything inside me would have died with you that day.
We need to finish this, we need to finish their story, and try to gain some kind of closure. I know you want that. That is why you said goodbye to Liz. It was like a ritual… so you could move on. But it didn’t give me closure. And us? It didn’t finish our story. We have so many questions still unanswered… Why did your dad take me? Who tried to kill you that night in the hospital?
Now I know you aren’t going to like this idea, which is why I’m writing it down. You can have some time to process it and then we can discuss it together, as a team, when I get back .
I think we should go visit your father in prison. I know you won’t want to. God, do I know. But we need to. We need answers, and he has them. He probably has all of them. Then, if you want, we can bury Deakon, too. If that is what it takes to make sure you never feel that lost, that guilty, and that hopeless again, I will do that for you.
But I won’t sit by and let you drown again, Duch, because I will be in that goddamn water with you. I will be there until I am so fucking weak from holding you up, that I will go down, too. So I need to be proactive, we need to, and instead of me trying to take care of you all the time, let’s spend the rest of our lives taking care of each other.
I love you, Duchess.
Xo Konnor
As I read, I clutch my heart. Although I don’t want Liz to be a part of our lives, he does, and that means I have to come to terms with what happened. Konnor is right. Liz and Deakon have so much of their story left to finish before we can truly find closure.
My father doesn’t know I’m alive, and if he was the one who organised trying to have me killed, I may be putting myself at risk. Yet, he doesn’t have my name, address, or any personal details and we will keep it that way.
It is time for me to be brave for Konnor. This is his story, too. No more running. I’m so proud of the man he has become, a man so beautiful and so compassionate. My father has answers that Konnor deserve, and my running has been inadvertently been keeping them from him. I will not be the reason he doesn’t get them. With him by my side, I’m ready to step backwards in order to move forward.
NINETEEN: Konnor
When we arrive at Blesk’s dorm, Elise is instinctively probing for answers as we pack an overnight bag. She is insisting we take her along, and after how drained I am emotionally from last night, I actually don’t think it’s a bad idea. Plus, I can’t deny that little chick anything. And neither can Blesk. Far be it for me to know that apparently, Jax is an unexpected addition to the Elise package these days.
Gardier Prison is an hour outside my hometown, Brussman, so it’ll take us just over three hours to get there. I requested to drive, and despite that meaning I had to abstain from my normal alcohol consumption, it seemed necessary, because I really needed to think. I needed some peace and quiet to shuffle through last night. It’s hard to shake the thought of what Blesk did to herself. I keep picturing her in that tub. It’s damn near incapacitating. It’s hard to understand, because her body, her soul, every little thing that makes up a part of who she is, is so, so precious to me.
She feels weak because people treat her that way; they undervalue her. She is vulnerable, she is shy, but she is also sassy and, in the right company, a beautiful, alluring force. Erik always treated her like a dependent. That was probably his way of solidifying a permanent place in her life. She isn’t a child, she’s a Duchess, and I need to remember that.
When I look in her eyes, I still see Liz, that little girl. But she’s right, she isn’t that little girl anymore. She is a woman—an incredible woman, and sometimes my desperate need to protect her clouds that fact. I want to help her flourish, to gain strength within herself, and to love herself as much as I love her—because, she is just so unbelievably lovable. All I want to do is protect her, it is all I’ve ever wanted to do, and I will. I will always be there to catch her should she fall, always and forever. But I need to support her and not shelter her… I just can’t believe she did it… it hurts so much more than anything I’ve ever endured. I’m never letting her go, and I’m never giving up on her, and I will make damn sure she never gives up on herself again.
“Everyone is always going on about Shakespeare! I get it, the dude was good, but seriously, in high school, all I ever heard about was bloody Shakespeare,” Jax whines, slamming his boots up onto the dashboard.
“Shakespeare coined more words than anyone else. He literally wrote 10 percent of our vocabulary,” Elise says.
“Yeah, it was easier back then,” I reply. “Hardly anyone could afford education and the educated had a lot to be desired. We have more competition than Shakespeare ever did.”
Jax scoffs. “He didn’t write my dictionary!”
“What, the Moron Dictionar
y?” Elise cracks up.
“The Australia Dictionary, Elise,” Jax states, very matter-of-factly. “Where we add an O to the end of certain words, get it, kiddo?” Jax laughs and knocks me with his elbow.
“Give us a demo?” I smirk.
“Haven’t you already heard most of them, Kono?” Jax says, feeding chips into his greedy mouth.
“Dunno, Jaco, I wasn’t really listening to your convo?” I reply, lowering gears to the take the next corner.
“That is because you can’t concentrate when you’re sober, so let’s stop at the bottlo, everyone knows, Kono is an Alco.” Jax grins at me, with a mouthful of crushed up chipos.
Cheeky motherfucker!
I scowl at him, light-heartedly. “Righto, but we’ll still need to stop at the Servo in the arvo—”
“Stop talking, you Deros, you’re making me aggro,” Elise snickers, kicking both our headrests from the backseat. We both crack up laughing, twisting around to stare at each other.
Elise and Jax continue to verbally abuse each other—or flirt. I glance in the rear-view mirror and catch a glimpse of Blesk. Her cheek rests on Elise’s shoulder, her blonde hair spread around, her eyes are closed to the world and her headphones are in—she has never looked so peaceful. Her head bobs slightly to an inaudible beat, and her face is relaxed.
She looks like she's never had a bad experience in her life. She looks content. I haven’t seen that look on her before. I peer back at the road. Then back at her again. Then back to the road.
What is she listening to? Whatever it is, it’s my new favourite song. I need to be beside her. I pull over and slam on the brakes, jolting us to a standstill with more force than intended.
“What the hell?” Jax yells as the Prado comes to a complete stop.
I spin in my seat and look at Elise and Jax. “I can’t concentrate. I need to sit next to Blesk... Elise, get up front.” I crawl in the back.
Elise pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Fine, Jaxon, get ready to learn how to a drive a stick properly.”
“Whoa!” Jax stares at me and shrugs questioningly, mouthing, "What the?”
Elise jumps out, walks around the car, and pulls herself up into the driver’s seat. I smirk at Jax while she’s outside and mouth, “I think she likes you.” He tries to hide his flattered expression, but I catch it.
Blesk has woken from her music coma and is sitting up, observing us intently. She is alert and her head is high as she gazes around with the music still monopolising her hearing. She grins at me and her tongue comes out between her teeth. I have to have it. I lean in and suck her tongue into my mouth, pulling her into me. I can feel the vibrations of her hum against my lips and chest as she melts against me.
I slide my hand up into her hair, deepening our kiss. Loving every second her lips allow me the pleasure of their touch, loving their silky moistness, loving the moans that escape them, and loving the way her tongue massages mine. Loving everything about it, and everything about her.
The car starts to move forward, and we conclude our kiss so I can get my belt on. I signal for her to take out one of her earplugs, motioning with my hand. She grins at me, tugging a plug from my ear.
“What are you listening to, Duch?” I ask.
“The Lumineers,” she says, with her smile and sparkling eyes that wrench my heart. She brushes my hair away from my ear and puts the loose earplug in it. She kisses my cheek then rests her head on my shoulder without any further contemplation, nestling into me and relaxing. I wrap my arm around her and pull her as close as possible, kissing her forehead. I can hear the two miscreants bickering in the front seat, but Blesk doesn’t seem to register them at all. Her expression is perfectly content, and now she is in my arms. My heart is full.
All I want for her is peace... with me. She raises her leg and folds it over mine. She has never looked more beautiful than she does right now, bopping her head to the beat only we can hear, in her yoga pants, in her singlet, with no makeup on and bare feet.
Her basic is every other girl’s spectacular.
✽✽✽
I would rather have a holiday with Hitler than be here. I would rather be on the beach in the first scene of Saving Private Ryan than be here. I would rather be a blonde prostitute in American Psycho, than be here. For some reason, it never occurred to me that I may have an adverse reaction to seeing a prison. To seeing a huge cage. To seeing a place without escape. To seeing captive humans.
The barbed wire, the layers of fences, the barred windows, and cold steep walls are my personal hell. My whole body fights the urge to vomit as we pull into the visitor’s parking bay. My face pales, and it happens so quickly I feel every bloody cell rushing out, draining my cheeks. I completely stop breathing. I have one feeling. Only one. Panic.
Fuck!
Jaxon and Elise twist back to look at me. I’m wide-eyed, frozen, blanched, unreachable. They’re talking, but I can’t hear them. Their mouths move, their faces distort, their heads tilt, but I can’t hear anything. Panic has its claws around my throat, and I can’t breathe, can’t think. Everything around me moves slower than is normal, slower than feasible. Then I hear something, and although it is muffled, I know I need to respond.
“Listen. Konnor. Listen. It’s Blesk . . .” Her voice trails off.
I turn to look at her and see that her mouth is moving, forming my name..
But I don’t hear anything.
Like a damn tsunami, the air smashes back into me and I fly forward, gasping for oxygen. When I feel her sweet touch on my thigh, all of the sounds in the world suddenly get sucked straight into my head and I hear them all at once. They are yelling my name.
Fucking loud.
I grasp my ears, both hands covering my head.
“Fuck! Stop yelling!” I scream.
“Konnor, baby.” Blesk places her palms on either side of my face and kisses my forehead. I force my hands away from my ears and down to my sides. I will the tension shredding my spine to yield, to subside. Her lips touch my cheek, soft and moist and loving. She kisses my chin. She kisses me with everything she has and everything she is feeling. They each convey a new meaning. That she understands, that she is petrified for me, and that she is here. She is living this nightmare vicariously through me. I shouldn’t act like this.
Ridiculous, pathetic, emasculating…
Weak piece of shit...
Your girl needs you.
I don’t want her to see me like this.
“Stop, don’t touch me. I’m fine,” I say curtly, trying to evade eye contact. I shrug her off, waving her hands from my face. I’m too in my head, too angry at myself. My rejection shocks her, but she doesn’t surrender, grabbing my cheeks with more force and searching my expression empathetically. When she kisses my lips again I cease avoiding her, defeated by her warmth. Her lips oppress every other erupting emotion. She pulls away and looks me dead in the eyes, offering me exactly what I need: acceptance, tolerance, understanding, and love. She knows what is happening. I need her. I need her more than anything.
She hushes me. “Shhhhhh, baby.” She pulls me into her chest, rocking me against her until my heart slows.
Breathe, Konnor.
“I don’t think I can move, Duch.”
My voice sounds strange, like it isn’t my own. “I’m trying to move my feet. I’m trying to, but they won’t budge. I’m supposed to look after you and I can’t even move right now. I can’t go in there.” I suck a sharp breath in and try to regulate my heart’s rhythm.
She strokes my hair. “We’re looking after each other, remember? We’re looking after each other.”
Jax grimaces. “What the hell is going on with you, dude?” he yells before jumping from the car, slamming the door behind him.
“Jax!” I call after him.
He turns to hide his face and stares across the field that surrounds the penitentiary. He grips the back of his head, and rubs his hands forward through his hair, a clear action to conve
y his frustration. I know it’s unfair to ask him to continue watching all this drama unfold without some kind of explanation.
Fuck, I need a drink…
“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him.” Elise pats my arm, and swings open the car door before joining Jax’s side. Their conversation is inaudible from inside the Prado, but their body language is quite distinct. She places a tender hand on his back as they exchange words, his arms jolt around, and his head shakes.
I look at Blesk. “You can’t go in, this was a mistake, a huge mistake.”
She sighs. “No, it wasn’t.”
“Yes, it really was,” I mutter.
“We need answers. I’m getting them.”
Hell no!
“You’re not going in there without me.” I shake my head. “There’s no way.”
She smiles at me with big comforting eyes. “I can do this.”
“You’re kidding, right? That man beat you for years. He ruined your life. There is no way you are going in there alone.”
Her expression tightens. “Konnor!”
“No, Duchess, not without me, it isn’t open for negotiation.”
She takes a strengthening breath. “I have to do this for you and for me. I can do this.”
“Nope,” I state, dismissing what she just said. “Not happening, just let it go!”
“Stop it. You said we would look after each other, but you don’t believe I can hold up my end of that bargain. I need you to support me and let me do this. I can do this, Konnor. Why don’t you believe I can?”
My chest deflates. “Duchess, you can do anything you want, anything you put your mind to, you are the bravest person I’ve ever met.” I grin at her and exhale on a sigh. “Once upon a time there was a little girl who stood up to her abusive father and helped her best friend escape the prison, he was in for four years. You risked everything when you did that, and you did it completely alone, you faced him alone. I will be damned if you have to face him alone again.”