by Callie Rae
“She’s worried about you,” Darla says. “And with good reason. You crashed your car?”
“I’m fine. It’s fine. It’ll be up and running in no time,” I tell her, hoping she’ll believe that lie more than I do.
She looks at me, doing that mother’s intuition thing that mothers do. I’ve seen the same look on my own mom’s face when she knew better than to listen to me.
“Come on, have a seat,” she says.
I do what she asks without hesitation. I’m exhausted and sore and sitting sounds pretty good right now.
“Jesse, I need to talk to you about our last conversation. When I asked you to find her at any cost. I shouldn’t have. I was upset because we’ve been dealing with this for so long . . .” Her voice trails off, but she doesn’t need to finish the sentence. The exhaustion and defeat are evident in every new wrinkle she’s gained during this whole situation. “Anyway, it was wrong of me to ask that of you. You’re just a boy. You have a whole life ahead of you. And for me to ask you to put that on hold or even risk it . . . well, that’s not something you put on the shoulders of a child. And before you try to interrupt me and tell me otherwise, yes, you are still a child.”
I open my mouth to argue the point, but she doesn’t allow me to get a word in edgewise. “You can’t do this on your own. And while I don’t understand your relationship with your father, I gathered enough from your sister to know that whatever you’ve concocted with him cannot be good. For you or Fallon.”
I can’t argue with her on that. She’s right.
She speaks softly when she continues. “Fallon wouldn’t want this, Jesse. She wouldn’t want you giving up your life for hers.” She’s almost pleading with me. “I think it’s time you let the cops handle it.”
“What? No! No way. I’ve got this handled,” I say. I run my hands through my hair knowing I don’t really have this handled. Not yet, anyway.
“Look at you, Jesse. Are you even sleeping?” she asks.
I turn to her. The judgement I thought I’d find in her eyes isn’t there. There’s only concern; she’s genuinely worried about me.
“I can’t sleep. I just . . .” I drop my head. “Not knowing what’s happening to her . . .” I shake my thoughts out. “But I need you to know nothing you said to me made me do this. I’d have handled it the same way with or without you. And if giving up everything is what gets her home safely, then that’s what I will do.”
“And this deal with your father—what does it entail from you?” she asks. When I don’t answer her, she continues. “Fallon talks to me, you know. Well, she did. I know you aren’t a bad person. Will having his help force you to be someone you’re not?”
I meet her eyes. “That doesn’t matter.”
“Yes—"
“No, it doesn’t. Because it’s done. The deal is made. And I only came here to tell you that I did what I needed to do, and she’ll be safe soon.” I say with all the finality I can muster.
Again, she looks at me like she can see right through me. But I’m guessing all she sees is a boy who would do anything to save the ones he loves. With a sigh, she gives in.
I lean against the wall facing her limp body in the bed. She looks much better than she did when she first came in. Most of her burns are healing well and she hasn’t been on any type of oxygen the last two times I’ve been here. “You should be getting out of here soon, right?”
“Oh no. No you don’t. You don’t get to save my daughter and me too. I’m grown, Jesse. I can handle myself just fine,” she insists.
“You have nowhere to go. I watched your house burn. I just want to help,” I say with my hands up. “You are welcome to stay with us if you’d like. My mother would love to have another adult in the house that she can gossip with. But something tells me you’d rather have a space of your own. Like daughter like mother, right?”
She smirks and shakes her head at me. “Oh, you are good. I see why Fallon likes you.” She chuckles but then sends me a level look. “But I’ll be ok. Let’s just focus on getting Fallon home.”
“Well, can I at least give you a ride out of here? Fallon will never forgive me if I let her injured mother walk out of here alone. I’m going to catch enough hell as it is that I wasn’t here every day checking in on you. But from the looks of all the magazines and girly stuff lying around, my sister took care of that.” I point to a bag of nail polish that looks oddly familiar.
“Yes, she did. She’s a good girl, too. Strong and independent. You Callaways are a strong team. I’m glad Fallon has found that with you. But yes, you can give me a ride. I’ll allow you that peace of mind.” She sighs. “The doctors say I can leave in about a week if the burns on my legs continue to heal at the rate they are. I figure I’ll get a hotel while I look for a new home. Preferably one that won’t have a crazy man trying to burn it down.”
I chuckle. “Cheers to a normal life.”
“Nothing about Fallon will ever be normal. But she’s my girl, and I love everything she brings to my world,” she says with all the love of a mother shining from her eyes. “I need some rest. Go. Get our girl back.”
I nod at the pity in her smile. She thinks she pities me for my future, but if she knew what my future really looked like, she’d take her daughter and run. But as it is, I’ll focus on getting her home for now.
Darla is snoozing before I’m out in the hall trying to shut the door as silently as I can. It’s time to go home and prepare myself. It’s time to get back the one person I’ve always known absolutely belongs in my life.
I walk down the hall of Cherry Creek High, the school I came to in search a safe haven. I chuckle to myself sardonically. There is nothing safe about this place, but it still turned out to be so much more than I’d bargained for.
I’m stopped in the hall by someone grabbing my hand. I turn back to find the mischievous grin I adore.
“Come with me,” Jesse says. I don’t need any more prompting than that. I’d go anywhere with him.
He continues to pull me by my hand down a few halls until we are in an empty one. It used to be the old art hall, but the rooms were upgraded to actual studios. Now this hall is left bare. There are no classes held here, so no one usually comes down this way.
Jesse leans back against the wall and pulls me close enough to put his lips on mine. I smile into his kiss and ask, “What are you doing?”
“I’m kissing you,” Jesse says as he kisses me again. My heart beats faster with every move of his lips.
“You kissed me last night, all through the night, and again this morning,” I say. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t giddy. He makes me this way. His lips fit perfectly to mine, and his body molds to me. I’m almost bothered by how well this works.
He wraps his arms more tightly around me, causing my bag to fall off my shoulder. Papers scatter across the floor. “Crap. Sorry, let me get that for you.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I can get it.” I reach down hurriedly, but he’s already picked up a few pages. I pause, because I know exactly what he’s looking at.
“What is this?” Jesse asks from his crouch on the floor. “Did you do this?”
He flips through the pages and continues to pick the rest up. “Fallon? Did you draw these?”
I can see in my peripheral vision that he’s looked back up ,and I’m afraid to make eye contact. I nod my head. “It’s nothing. I just like to sketch sometimes.”
I go to grab the papers from him to shove them back in my bag, but Jesse pulls them away too quickly. “Nothing? These are really good.”
He looks down at the pages again. He carefully brings his other hand up and lightly traces his finger over the drawing. “Is this you? She looks so real.” He looks up at me. “And so alone.”
I reach for the papers again, and this time I’m fast enough to grab them out of his hands. I stuff them back into my bag. “It’s not. It’s just some girl I drew,” I say.
Marcus
enters the room and slams the door behind him. He can’t seem to close the door like a normal person, and every time I find myself thinking of Jesse, he finds a way to interrupt. Those thoughts are the closest thing I have to peace in this nightmare, and they’re interrupted. Every. Single. Time.
“What were you doing?” he asks. He’s tense.
“Well I certainly wasn’t sleeping, was I? It’s impossible with you stomping in here like someone just pissed in your cornflakes,” I snap.
“You were thinking about him, weren’t you?” Marcus demands angrily.
“So what if I was? What else should I do? I can’t do anything else cuffed to the bed like this.” I gesture to the bedframe with my uncuffed hand.
“I told you, Fallon. I told you if you pushed back that I would hurt them,” he says, and my world turns. I literally feel drunk with panic as his words echo in my head.
“What do you mean? What have you done?” I say. He doesn’t answer me right away. “What have you done?” I yell. “Marcus! Answer me!”
Marcus tilts his head and gives me an evil smile. “He just couldn’t turn down a chance to prove that he was still in control.”
Jesse. Oh God, Jesse . . .
He laughs and then says, “It was easy really. Jordan wants to take power away from Jesse. Jesse can’t show his control is slipping. But without you he isn’t much of anything, now is he?” Marcus leans toward me and brings his hand up to tenderly sweep the hair from my face. I jerk back, and he sobers a bit. He turns away from me and says, “All it took was a public challenge and a little bit of mud.”
After a moment, he turns back around. This time his phone is in his hand, and he holds it out for me to take. My first thought is to escape into the bathroom and try to call 911, but I’m instantly distracted by the video playing on the screen. The footage shows a black Dodge Charger racing down the track.
Jesse’s black Dodge Charger.
I don’t know why he is showing me this video until the Charger goes sliding after the finish line and begins to roll. I see one flip, and another, and another. The car flips so many times I lose track. I bring a hand to my mouth as time stops. The only thing still in motion is that damn Charger.
I don’t understand. Jesse doesn’t race anymore.
The car eventually stops flipping and lands upside down. It rocks back and forth for a few more moments as the owner of the phone starts running towards the car. You can just make out someone saying, “Oh, shit,” before the video cuts.
I shake my head back and forth. No. Nononono. “What did you do? That isn’t real—Jesse doesn’t race. You’re lying. It’s fake. It has to be fake . . .” My words trail off as the footage of the car replays in my mind over and over again.
Marcus stands before me, looking down at me with disgust. “I told you what would happen if you defied me again. Do you believe me now?”
I lean up as far as the cuff will allow me and scream, “You son of a bitch! How could you?” I swing with my free hand as hard as I can, but he blocks it with ease.
“Let me fucking go.” I swing again. “Let me go! Do you hear me? Let me go, you asshole!” With each breath, I swing again.
I’m so lost in my rage that I’m not prepared for his next move. I hear the crack of his hand and feel the snap of my head a split second before the throbbing pain begins to pulse in my cheek. I fall down on the bed and bring my free hand up to cup the stinging, pulsing skin.
“You still haven’t learned your lesson, have you?” Marcus brings his mouth down to my ear and whispers, “Keep it up, and one by one they will all meet the same fate.”
I don’t move. I don’t respond. Instead, I succumb to the all-consuming pain in my chest. It radiates outward, spreading throughout my body, stealing my breath, and fracturing my mind. I’m not sure when the tears started but I wipe them away with a trembling hand as I suck in a deep breath and fight to hold in the scream threatening to erupt from my lungs. I won’t allow him to be witness to my heartbreak. He doesn’t get any realness from me. He doesn’t get to see me break. I’ve spent the last year learning how to hold it all inside, and only one person has ever been allowed to see the true me.
But Marcus? He gets nothing. He gets nothing except a lonely girl who will never see him as anything but the monster he truly is.
“He was never going to stop looking for you. No matter what. He was coming, so I solved the problem. Now we can be together with nothing between us. No one to stop us,” Marcus snarls.
“And something in that twisted brain of yours thought we would be together if Jesse wasn’t in the picture? You don’t get it. You’re a monster. A twisted, soulless monster that I could never love,” I cry out.
He backs up a bit, and nods while he shrugs and spreads his hands wide. “That may be the case. But where are you now? With me. And one day . . .” He closes the distance between us once more to slide a finger down my cheek. “One day, you will see that I did this all for you.”
“One day? One day, I’ll kill you, and I will never look back. You wanted me? Well you got me. For the rest of our time together, you better watch your back. Because one day, when you aren’t looking, when you least expect it, I will take you down,” I snarl.
He backs away and walks straight out of the room, slamming the door behind him once again, leaving me with nothing.
Nothing. I have nothing. Nothing except a shattered heart and a broken spirit.
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to enter. Your stuff is good,” Jesse says to me as I pack up my bag for school.
“Because those drawings aren’t for everyone to judge. They were—are—just a way for me to get some of this out,” I say, motioning to my head, where all my fears and hardships still live.
“I get that. But all of that is what makes it good. Your drawings are real and raw—which is why I entered you in the school art contest. I thought maybe if a bunch of strangers told you how good they are you might take it a bit more seriously,” he says as he holds up a sketch on the desk in my temporary room.
I walk over and grab the paper out of his hand. I run my hand over the lonely girl looking through a window in longing. I sketched it on that first day at Cherry Creek high.
I hold it up. “This is not for some stranger’s eyes. This is for me and my eyes only. You had no right to do that behind my back. I’m not your puppet like the rest of Cherry Creek. I’m your girlfriend. You have to discuss these things with me first!” I yell at him.
Jesse stills and looks at me wildly, heat forming. “What did you just say?”
“What?” I stand up straighter, “I said you have to talk to me first. We’re a team.”
“No, not that.” He’s got a smile on his face as he slowly struts towards me. “You called yourself my girlfriend.”
“Oh.” I look up at him with confusion. “Well, I thought I made that clear when I straddled you at lunch in front of the world to see.”
Jesse wraps his arms around me. “Yes, you did. The message was clear, but I’ve never heard you say it out loud before.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Well, boyfriend . . .” His smile brightens, and it warms my heart. It’s like a ray of light that digs deep down into my soul and nudges itself into all the holes, filling all the places that were missing pieces.
Jesse brings his lips to mine and kisses me with purpose. I heard what he had to say that day in the car when he found me sleeping on a bench at the bus stop, but just now, I think he heard me.
“Can you two stop, now? We get it—you’re together. You don’t have to keep showing us,” Jade whines. “Besides, if we still want to stop to get coffee we need to leave like, two minutes ago.”
Cason appears in the doorway next to Jade. “Oh, come on Jade. Leave them be—they have to make up for all the I told you so’s they got. Besides,” he leans into her ear, “You’re just jealous Adam doesn’t kiss you like that.”
Jade push
es Cason away, rolling her eyes at his jab. “Let’s go, lovebirds. I need coffee.” She pops her sunglasses on and walks off with a chuckling Cason following behind her.
I laugh and look back to Jesse. He drops his lips to mine for a quick peck before grabbing my half-zipped bag and my hand to follow our friends.
A knock at the door brings me out of my daydream. I look around for Marcus, but he hasn’t returned after our spat.
Another knock comes and I look down at the cuff. Not sure what to do. But before I can make a decision, the doorknob wiggles a bit and the door slowly opens up.
I sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed as an older lady comes in pushing a cleaning cart with towels sitting on top. I stare at her, saying nothing. Part of me in shock because it’s somebody other than Marcus, and the other part is freaking out because it’s somebody other than Marcus who could help me.
I don’t react right away because I have no idea who she is, and even though it appears she works for the motel, she could be working for Marcus. So I stare at her and watch to gauge her reaction before I decide how to play this.
When she looks over her shoulder and finally sees me cuffed to the bed, she screams.
“Shhhhh, please don’t scream. Please. He could come back,” I beg her.
She covers her mouth and looks out the door like she might just run. I’m thankful when she doesn’t.
“I’m sorry. I thought he was gone. I always clean when he leaves. It’s quieter that way,” she says.
“So he’s been here before?” I ask her.
She watches me for a second but then shakes her head. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be talking to you.” She turns her back to me and begins grabbing towels and cleaning products from her cart.
“Please, I need help. Anything you can tell me helps,” I beg.
She doesn’t answer me, but when she turns back around, I see the fear in her eyes. She’s scared, but not of me.
“You’re scared of him.” I say right before she reaches the hall to the bathroom. It’s not a question.