I started to walk out of the bedroom backwards as she rushed at me again. I could see such hatred in her eyes. I knew it wasn’t just toward me, it was toward herself. She stopped in the living room as I backed up. She flinched, and a look of deep shame came over her face. She lost it and started charging toward me.
“Hailey, I…”
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” she screamed at me at the top of her lungs.
She charged at me a few more times. I kept backing up and trying to calm her down.
Both her hands hit my chest again, sending me sailing backward into the front door. Her body rammed against me as a result of her own force. She was such a tiny girl I couldn’t believe she could deliver such a blow. It was like the roar of a lion coming from the mouth of a lamb.
She peeled her body off of mine and started whaling the bottom of her fists against my chest. My arms fell to my sides and I flexed the muscles in my chest to soften the blows. Her force was pretty damn close to that of a man. Her fists continued to ram into my chest like they were hammers. She was sobbing and crying like she did on the phone to me when she thought she’d lost Chloe.
I knew she needed to release the pain built up inside of her. It hurt, but nothing like watching her fall apart did. The pounding became softer with each blow and she eventually ran out of energy and collapsed, sobbing, against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her tightly. Still choking down all emotion and trying to remain strong for her. The crying slowed and she untangled herself from my arms, and took a step back.
“Please go, Cody,” she said.
“I can’t,” I said.
“Please go, Cody. I’m begging you.”
“But, Hail, I…”
“I promise that we can talk tomorrow. But not right now. Please go, please,” she said, holding her arm by the elbow.
“Promise?” I said.
She looked me in the eye and nodded her head yes, and then looked back to the floor. Reluctantly, I turned around and cracked the door. I didn’t know what else to do; she didn’t want me there.
I looked back at her and said, “I’m going to fucking kill him this time.”
She brought her head up from her gaze at the ground. She was shaking it no. “It wasn’t Jason.”
“Hailey, tell me who it was and I’ll leave. I swear I’ll leave as soon as you tell me. I promise.”
She told me who had done it. It took everything in me to remain calm as rage took hold.
I pulled the door open from behind me while keeping my gaze on her. “I’m keeping my promise, but I want you to know that I love you, Hailey. I will always love you, Hailey.” She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact. She was like a statue again. I reluctantly kept my promise. I stepped backwards out the door and slowly closed it behind me, hoping she would change her mind and allow me to stay, but knowing she wouldn’t change her mind.
Every bad feeling I’d had when reading the diary and the rage that took over when she told me who had hurt her was going to force me to lose complete control.
Chapter 29 - Hailey
When I finally got to the light pole, I steadied myself against it, and pulled my foot up with my hand. I winced when I saw the cut. I hated the sight of blood in the first place, and my foot was soaked in it. Somehow I managed to stomach pulling the piece of glass out. The cut looked like it was about an inch long. By the way it was bleeding, I guessed it was fairly deep.
I reached into my purse to get my phone, knowing I needed to call Taylor because there was no way I was making it home with my injured foot. I paused when I saw headlights coming toward me.
The car stopped on the wrong side of the street, driver’s side facing me. The window came down.“Need a ride?” JTasked.
“Thank God you stopped. I had no idea how I would make it home,” I said. I put my phone back into my purse.
His arm was hanging over the side of the Mustang, hand planted against the metal. “What’s wrong with your foot?”
“I was walking home and stepped on a piece of glass. I think it cut me pretty deeply. It won’t stop bleeding, and it hurts really badly.” I gritted my teeth and sucked in a quick breath.
“You need to put pressure on it.” He turned on the interior light.
“I don’t have anything to use. Do you have anything I can catch the blood with?” I asked.
He put the car in park and then reached into the backseat of the car and pulled a gray gym duffle bag onto his lap.
The door creaked open and he stepped toward me with a black shirt in his hand.
“It’s clean. So don’t worry about it causing an infection,” he said.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it. I thought I might bleed to death.” I attempted to joke while I continued to hold my foot, which was throbbing with pain.
He wrapped the T-shirt around my foot tightly.
“Hang onto my neck,” he said, and then picked me up and carried me to the passenger side of his car. He slowly eased me down, ensuring I was standing firmly on my good foot before letting my other leg drop. He popped the door open for me. I sat down on the seat sideways, and swung my legs into the car. Then I carefully pulled my injured foot onto my lap.
“All good?” he asked.
I leaned away from the door, and said, “Yeah.”
The door slammed and I watched as he made his way around the front of the car, headlights shining on his tall frame.
He pulled his door shut, put the car in drive, and we were off. I couldn’t believe I had gotten so lucky that someone had stopped to help me.
He got into the driver’s seat and said, “My apartment is two blocks down. I need to get something from there and we can clean your foot up and bandage it.”
We were silent on the short ride to his place.
The car rolled to a stop. I remembered that JT’s place was the studio Mr. Gritley had available when I first moved back into town.
He helped me out of his car and then wrapped his arm around my waist to help me hobble up the short walk to his doorstep. His apartment was on the first floor.
He unlocked the door and held it open for me.
I had never been inside before. It smelled like mildew and cigarette smoke – not the best combination, but one I was used to from my mother’s house. I looked around, taking in my surroundings. I was glad that I didn’t rent it: it was smaller than Mr. Gritley had described.
“Let’s go into the bathroom and get you cleaned up.” He motioned to the bathroom, which was no more than fifteen feet to the left of the front door.
We headed into the bathroom.
I steadied myself on the edge of the sink while he turned the water on in the tub.
He turned around. “Let’s take that off and see how bad the cut is,” he said, pointing to the black T-shirt wrapped around my foot. He sat down on the toilet seat, pulled my foot onto his lap, and then unwound the makeshift bandage.
“Looks pretty nasty; might need stitches,” he said.
“I can’t afford to get stitches. I don’t have insurance,” I said, shaking my head.
He reached over and held his hand under the water. “It won’t sting as much if it’s body temperature,” he said.
He helped me sit down on the edge of the tub. I hesitantly put my foot under the water. There was a slight sting at first but then it started to feel all right. A pool of red water had begun to collect in the tub. I turned my head and pulled my eyes shut, trying to shake the image of it off.
“We need an antiseptic,” he said.
I could hear him searching through the cabinets. I opened my eyes and glanced over my shoulder.
He handed me a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I poured it over the wound.
I handed the half-empty bottle back to him.
He tore the wrappers off some gauze pads and gave them to me. “Place them on the cut and apply pressure to stop the bleeding. We’ll give it ten minutes and then wrap it.” He tapped his finger on the roll of gauze he had place
d on the bathroom counter. “I’ll let you know when the time is up.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “You have a mini triage center here.”
He smiled back. “You were in luck. The prior tenants left the stuff behind.” He shut the cabinet doors and looked back over at me. “Want something to drink?”
“Water would be great.”
I heard the ice cubes hitting the glass and the sound of the faucet running.
His heavy steps approached and the closer he got the stronger the smell of fresh cigarette smoke became.
He handed me the glass and I drank the water slowly. It had a slightly bitter taste to it, but I didn’t think much of it. He exhaled a puff of smoke and said, “I’ll check on you shortly.”
I heard the television come on. He was flipping through stations pretty rapidly.
After a few minutes he called out, “Okay in there?”
“Yes. I think the bleeding has slowed,” I said.
My phone kept ringing and I told him he could turn it off if it was annoying him. It stopped ringing so I assumed he had turned it off. It had to be Cody or Taylor, or both.
He came back into the bathroom. “All right, let’s wrap this foot of yours up. I’m good at this sort of thing,” he said. His voice was a higher pitch than normal and he spoke at a fast pace.
I carefully turned around, using my hands to balance the weight of my body. After I placed my good foot on the floor, I rested my cut foot on my knee.
He handed me a sock. “Put this over it so the gauze doesn’t fall off.” His eyes were both beady and bloodshot. It looked like his pupils had tightly constricted.
I wanted to be in my own bed. Being around JT had begun to feel strange.
He held out his hands and I took them so I could stand up. I bent my right knee so my foot was behind me. He bent down a little and wrapped his arms around my waist, picking me up. I wished he had picked me up from behind. Our chests were against each other and it was awkward. He gave me a smirk that made me feel even more uncomfortable. I could smell the cigarettes and alcohol on his breath and turned my head a little more to lessen the pungent odor of it.
He took a few steps and then placed me on the edge of the bed. I started to feel really tired and yawned. He smiled at me. “Long night, eh?” he said.
I forced a smile and nodded my head.
“Scoot back and throw me the pillows so I can prop up your leg,” he said.
I thought about the skirt I was wearing and was thankful that I’d put boy shorts over the top of my underwear. I used my arms and good foot to push myself back, dragging my other leg along with me.
I tossed him two pillows with one hand and balanced myself with the other. He caught both pillows. I kept my upper body propped up with my arms. He stacked the pillows under my injured foot. I caught him trying to look up my skirt and pulled my thighs closer to each other. Now I was creeped out and just really wanted to go home. I wished I hadn’t stepped on that glass, and I wished I hadn’t gone out at all that night.
I glanced over to the right of the room, into the living room, and noticed a little bag on top of the coffee table. I was pretty sure it was cocaine. I didn’t know that JT did that stuff and had never been around someone while they were high on it. I looked at him, a little afraid, but then I told myself that he was helping me out and there was nothing I should be afraid of. At the worst I would have to spend the night there. I forced the bad thoughts out of my mind, even though my intuition told me that I needed to get my phone and get out of there.
“I’ll be back. I forgot the gauze and my beer,” JT said.
After emerging from the bathroom, he picked up his half-empty beer and chugged it, then headed to the refrigerator and got another.
He sat the beer on the desk next to the bed, and pulled the desk chair to the end of the bed and sat down. He wrapped the gauze around my foot until the roll was bare. By the time he was done I had a half-inch-thick padding around my foot. He pushed the end of the gauze through the pieces that were wrapped and tied it into a knot.
“I don’t have any of those pin things to secure it,” JT said, looking me in the eyes. I broke his stare by looking to the side.
“Want a beer?”
I shook my head no.
“How about some coke?” He pointed to the table. “It will help you feel better, kill the pain.” I shook my head no, once again.
He smirked at me, before standing up and going into the living room.
I looked at JT, who was sitting on the couch doing a line of cocaine, and then over to my purse. I wanted to get out of there so bad. That creepy feeling started to intensify. I knew that getting him to give me a ride home was not an option. I considered how I could get out of there. I looked at the clock on the desk; it was 3 a.m. and everyone would be asleep. I knew I was just going to have to stick it out. In another four or five hours I would be able to call Taylor for her to pick me up. I was sure JT would be passed out by then. I looked at JT again, who was sitting on the couch with his legs apart, his hand holding a beer on his thigh. I was so tired. I dropped my elbows down and rested my back against the bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing. I could feel springs popping through, jabbing at my back. I allowed myself to doze off, partly because my body was exhausted and partly to kill time.
***
I woke in the middle of the night, groggy. A smile swept over my face when I recalled the dream I was having about Cody, and the amazement of last night. When I reached down to myself, I noticed the covers weren’t on me and that my legs were in an awkward position. My skirt was pushed up around my waist and my boy shorts and panties had been pulled off. Confusion gripped me, then I heard a sound to my right that made me turn my head. JT walked out of the bathroom with nothing but his boxers on. I began to panic.
Did he rape me? No, I would have woken up. What the hell was he doing to me while I was sleeping? I started to shake. I was frozen in fear. I was certain he was going to rape me, if he hadn’t already.
I pulled the blanket over me, quickly covering my exposed parts.
“You really liked that,” JT said with a smirk on his stupid fucking face.
I started to shake and cry. I felt sick to my stomach.
JT stood at the end of the bed and pulled his boxers off, still looking at me with that look that was making me sick. He yanked on himself in front of me.
“No, JT. Please stop,” I said.
“Don’t be such a tease,” JT said as he ripped the covers back off of me.
“Please stop. Please don’t do this. Please,” I said.
“Say it again, and I’ll knock you out again.” He smacked the bottom of my wrapped foot, which forced a sharp pain to shoot up my leg.
I winced and let out a whimper.
He sneered at me. “Except next time I’ll do it with my fist.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as me moved over me, and then it happened.
He fell asleep next to me, and I kept on holding in heaves, wanting to vomit at his proximity.
When he began to snore, I looked at the clock and it was 5:30 in the morning. Slithering onto the floor, I crawled to my purse and then to the door. As soon as I got outside I wanted to run but I couldn’t.
The whole town was quiet and sunrise hadn’t yet broken. A shooting star caught my attention in the distance, then I lowered my eyes again and I spotted my escape. A bicycle lying in the front yard of the house next door was the only transportation means available to me. Hesitating to steal a bike that had glittery ribbons hanging from the handles, I limped over to it and coaxed it up until it balanced in my hands on its wheels. Steadying myself against it, I climbed onto the seat. My body was much too big for it. But somehow, that night, I managed to get myself home using only one foot to pedal.
Chapter 30 - Cody
There wasn’t a speed limit that mattered to me as I raced to the music studio. All I knew was that I wanted revenge for Hailey. I was focused. I was determined. The first
line of her diary was fixed steady in my mind. My heart alternated between pain and rage. I wanted to beat the shit out of JT.
That he had destroyed her that way, pushed her into a dark place that she would never have known otherwise, filled me with hate. He’d buried her soul in an abyss, and now I was out for his blood. I knew any physical pain I could deliver to him would never match the emotional pain she felt in her heart. Revenge was going to be mine. Not for me, but for Hailey.
With an eager foot, I slammed on the brakes. The truck skidded across the pavement and came to a screeching halt in front of the music studio, stopping only when the bumper clipped an elm tree. The sudden stop jerked my body forward. My grip tightened round the steering wheel, and my head sailed into the windshield.
Blood dripped from my forehead onto the steering wheel before I landed back in the seat. When I looked up, I saw that the windshield had cracked and blood filled the grooves. My mind was groggy from the impact, but within seconds it began to clear, and the shock of the accident wore off and I remembered why I was there.
I threw the truck into park and flung the door open. My feet hit the ground with heaviness, speed, and purpose. My thoughts were disjointed and my vision was slightly blurred.
The headlights flashed from my truck, cutting through the night, and the sound of the engine roaring echoed in the background as I raced toward the studio. Rage consumed me once more, clearing my thoughts of anything other than revenge.
Grass ripped from the ground as I passed over it. My face was hot and my body was tense. Blood mixed with sweat trickled down my face, but I didn’t let it get in the way.
I flew past Taylor and Peyton. JT was standing next to the speakers. My body crashed into him at full force, slamming him against the wall. The momentum of it lifted him into the air, until his back hit the concrete wall. I heard a crack and hoped I’d broken his fucking back. His legs swung out in front of him before he crashed to the floor.
In a fraction of a second, I was on top of JT. My fist crashed into his face, ripping the skin above his eyebrow. The next punch caused blood to flow from his nostrils. I gripped him around the neck, pinned him to the floor and whaled on his face
The Secret That Intervened Page 19