FOREVER MINE

by Michelle Lee

  I walk over to where Brody is standing and touch his arm. He jumps a little as I disrupt his thoughts. I point to the chair. “What is that?”

  He walks over to the chair and picks up the envelope. It is big. It is also stuffed full. Brody opens the envelope and his face goes pale. He runs to the side of the house and throws up.

  “Brody!” I yell his name.

  He holds up his hand, “Stay away, please. And call Patrick. He needs to come here. Now.”

  I pull out my phone and call Patrick. He gets done in an hour. He can’t come sooner. Do we want him to send someone else? Brody nods his head. I don’t like how his is acting. I am scared. I get off the phone with Patrick and slowly approach him.

  “Are you going to tell me what is going on?”

  He takes a breath and stands with his back to me. “Remember on my message to you I said I had a shitty night? Well I never got around to telling you about it. I went to the bar and had 2 drinks; one was bought for me by some woman in my class. I didn’t even get her name. She asked me if I wanted company, I said no, I just miss my girlfriend and want to be left alone. She buys me a drink wishes us luck and leaves. I barely remember making it back to my room, I woke up naked and don’t remember how I got that way.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you; you have such a high tolerance for alcohol. Girlfriend?” I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around what he’s saying.

  “There are pictures in this envelope of me and that woman” He turns around, his eyes are watery and his voice cracks, “I’m doing things with her.” His lip trembles. “I don’t remember any of it.”

  I hear a whooshing sound in my ears. “What kind of things, Brody?” I know I shouldn’t be mad, but I am. I am incensed. “Isn’t it convenient you can’t remember?”

  “Charlie. Please, you have to believe me. I have waited so long for anything to happen between us. I would not hurt you or ruin anything that we have a chance at being together. There’s more.”

  He reaches a hand out to me, and I smack it away. “How much more?”

  “Something happened to her.”

  I feel like I’ve been doused with ice water. “What? What do you mean? What did you do?”

  “I don’t know if I had sex with her or not, but would never hurt another human being in my life, especially a woman.”

  I rip the envelope from his hands with such force something flies out of it; something gold and shiny. It lands on the ground under the maple tree.

  The first picture is of Brody, he is lying on a bed naked. He is on his back, showing his bare chest, his flat toned stomach, and the tops of his hips. The bottom half is not showing.

  The second picture is of him and a brunette woman; she is sitting on his pelvis, leaning forward to kiss his lips. Their eyes are closed; his hand is resting on her hip. Is he pulling her closer or pushing her away?

  The third picture he is fondling her breasts, eyes half open. Her head is thrown back in absolute pleasure. She is moving on top of him, from the position of her body and where Brody’s other hand is touching her, he is just as into it as she is.

  The tears are running down my face. Each picture is worse than the last. Why am I still looking? I can’t stop myself. I need to see it through or it won’t be real.

  A little over halfway through the pictures, the scenery changes, and the girl is in a warehouse. It is dark and the pictures are grainy. She is lying on the ground. She is wearing a black dress, her makeup has run down her face and her hair is a mess.

  The next picture she has her hands and feet tied, and she is hanging from a thick beam in the ceiling. The rope around her neck is loosely tied. It looks like there is a wooden box under her feet for her to stand on.

  As Charlie looks through the pictures it is clear to her that this wasn’t Brody; it was Michael. It is just like all the cases she has been reading about. She feels sick to her stomach.

  The last picture; the brunette girl now naked, is hanging from the rope that is now so tight it’s cutting her flesh. There are knife wounds on her arms, on her legs, and strategically placed all over her abdomen. She is bleeding so badly there is a pool gathering at her feet. Charlie also knows she has been raped. There is a thin line of blood trailing down from between her legs and she is covered in the same bruises Michael gave to her three years earlier.

  “Brody, we can’t show these to the police. They will think you killed her.”

  “We have to.” He has been standing so still and quiet this whole time. “I know I didn’t do it. I won’t let Michael have this kind of power over me. Isn’t this exactly the thing he gets off on, control?”

  I am still so angry he has been with another woman, with everything else I’ve just seen I can’t get past it. “You were the last one with her. They will think you did this. You can’t let them think you did this, if they do you will get blamed for all the others.” I am yelling now.

  “I will be cleared in the long run; I probably have alibis for every one of them.”

  “And if you don’t? What if you were perfect for Michael’s game? You travel all the time, Steph never cared where you were who you were with, your computer has been bugged for god knows how long. Don’t be stupid, you are going to take the fall for him, don’t you see what he’s doing?”

  Brody walks to her and holds her hands. “I have to show them the pictures.”

  “Don’t touch me.” I rip my hands from him. “You have ruined everything. I never should have trusted you. I knew you could never be faithful to anyone, why would I be any different? You had sex with another woman, then came home and acted like we could just pick up where we left off. Would you have ever told me, or did you tell me because you were caught?”

  “Please Charlie, I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how to fix this. What can I do?” He scrubs at his face, runs his hand through his hair pulling his bangs, like he can pull the answers out. “You know me, please; I need you to trust me like you never have trusted me before. I know I did nothing with her. I can’t prove it, yet, but I will. I love you, really love you. I would never do something like this to you.”

  “I’m trying, Brody. I do know you. That’s why it isn’t hard to believe.”

  I wipe the tears that seem to have no end, and walk over to the tree. Searching the ground I find what I’m looking for. There, on the ground under a couple rose petals, is the shiny gold thing that flew out of the envelope. I bend down and pick it up.

  It is a bullet. It’s about 3 inches long; copper not gold, and pointed on one end. As I roll it over in my hand I see that there are scratches on it. No, not scratches, its Brody’s name etched into the side. I start to shake.

  Brody comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my middle. He takes the bullet out of my hands, puts it into his pocket, and holds me from behind. I turn in his arms and bury my face in his neck. I inhale the masculine scent that is all him; the smell of soap, man, and home. I know nothing can happen to him, I wouldn’t survive it. I also know what I have to do. I will lure Michael out in the open. If it keeps Brody safe I will make myself a target, I will play Michael’s game.

  CHAPTER 46

  Michael sits in his apartment and watches the screen of various monitors. While Charlie and Brody were gone, this morning and afternoon, he posed as a security systems installer; and placed tiny hidden remote controlled cameras throughout the property, the pictures of Brody, and some more roses. He has monitored the neighborhood long enough to know the habits of everyone around Brody’s house, to know no one would bother him. Everyone on this street keeps to themselves.

  Michael watches as Charlie smacks away Brody’s hand when he reaches out to her. He looks so defeated and broken. He is begging her to believe him. She throws his past in his face and goes toward the tree where the bullet, for Brody, is laying waiting to be found. She finally picks it up and looks it over, turning a beautiful shade of ‘shock’ white. Michael laughs to himself, thinking this is going to be a piece of
cake.

  When Brody comes up behind her and she lets him wrap her in his arms, Michael is furious. She is supposed to be mad. How can she let him touch her? This was going to ruin them, forever. She was going to be mine again. He stands up and rips the monitor away from the others, and throws it against the wall.

  “Damn them, what will it take?” He says to the empty room. Michael is watching them on a different screen. When Charlie opens her eyes it seems as if she is staring directly at him. Her big beautiful green eyes hypnotize him, he can’t look away. Then she turns and heads for her car, and the spell is broken. He watches her drive away while Brody pleads with her to stay.

  “Well, well, maybe there is trouble in paradise.” Michael watches until Brody walks back into the house. He picks up his phone and dials. Brody answers immediately.

  “Hello?”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Harrison.”

  “Who is this?”

  “I just called to make a suggestion. I think you should go to the police and tell them about your little friend, the one from Chicago, that way you will be out of the way, my hands will be clean, and Charlie will be alone so I can easily get to her.”

  “Michael.”

  “I also think the bullet you put in your pocket should be kept on your body at all times. You wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”

  “How do you know where I put it?”

  “Oh, Brody you really have no idea what I can do. What lengths I am willing to go.” He laughs, “You will learn, Brody, I promise.” With that he hangs up.

  CHAPTER 47

  Brody has no idea what just happened. One minute he has Charlie back, holding her in his arms, comforting her. The next she is pulling free and saying she can’t be here anymore, she needs to leave. She pulls from my arms, runs to her car, and drives away; leaving me standing here watching her brake lights in the distance.

  I walk onto the house, it feels so still. Quiet. Her energy filled this house with so much. I walk into the kitchen and look at the place where the table used to be. I am going to show her that she needs to be here; that I need her here. Just as I am getting ready to unload the truck my phone rings. I hope its Charlie, so I don’t check the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Harrison.”

  I recognize the voice but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s someone I know through work. “Who is this?”

  “I just called to make a suggestion. I think you should go to the police and tell them about your little friend, the one from Chicago, that way you will be out of the way, my hands will be clean, and Charlie will be alone so I can easily get to her.”

  “Michael.” I do know the voice; it’s definitely not someone from work. I hate his superior condescending tone.

  “I also think the bullet you put in your pocket should be kept on your body at all times. You wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”

  “How do you know where I put it?” It’s a test. I want him to slip something, anything that will give us information. He is too smart for that though.

  “Oh, Brody you really have no idea what I can do. What lengths I am willing to go.” He laughs, “You will learn, Brody, I promise.” He hangs up after his threat.

  Brody hits the end button and almost throws the phone against the wall; he stops when he remembers that Charlie is out there all alone, and may need to call him.

  I call Patrick because what else can I do. I hate feeling helpless, and that’s how Michael makes me feel.

  “Hey, Brody, I am on my way over. I just finish my shift and paperwork.”

  “Hey, Patrick. I just got a call from Michael. I will tell you about it when you get here.”

  “Give me about 15 minutes.”

  “I will see you when you get here.”

  “Later.” Patrick hangs up, Brody calls Charlie. It goes to voicemail of course.

  “Hey. It’s me, just wanted to see when you were coming home. Patrick is on his way, I thought you might want to be here when I tell him what happened. I am going to show him the pictures. I want you here. I need you here, please come home. I’m so sorry you are hurting. Well I hope I see you soon. I love you.”

  He hangs up and heads to the truck. He starts bringing in Charlie’s things. He puts her things in her room; hangs her clothes, puts her shampoo and other girly things in her bathroom. He puts her towels in the closet outside in the hall. He is filling his house with little pieces of her. He is so close to having everything he has always wanted, Michael is not going to take it away.

  There is a knock and then he hears Patrick’s accented voice, “Heya Brody, its Patrick, you in here?”

  “Yeah, I’m coming. You wanna give me a hand real quick, before we do this?” He asks as he is coming down the stairs.

  “What’s up?”

  “I have a kitchen table out in my truck; I can’t bring it in by myself.”

  “How did you get it in the truck?”

  “Charlie.” I say her name and my chest constricts a little. Why isn’t she here yet?

  “Ahh, got it.” He smiles a little and looks around. “Where is Charlie?”

  “Not here. We had a disagreement and she left to cool off. She was hurting pretty bad.”

  They walk outside and get the table as they continue to talk. “I assume this,” motioning to the ground covered in black petals, “has something to do with it?”

  “Yeah.”

  They carry the table in and sit it down in the kitchen. It’s a black and grey marble finish tabletop, with black pedestal leg that comes out of the center. The pub style; corner nook has wrap around black leather seating, fits perfectly in the squared out nook of windows built for a kitchen table. The high seat of the chairs makes it very comfortable for two people as tall as Charlie and Brody, to sit. He smiles as he thinks about the day she picked it out.

  ***********

  “I love it!”

  “It doesn’t even match your new kitchen.”

  “I can paint.”

  “If this is what you want.”

  “I do.” She is beaming. She hasn’t been this happy in months. I hate seeing her sad. The bruises on her face are almost a memory. Almost. I can still see them like they are still black and purple, swollen and filled with blood. I don’t want to ruin her day so I shake the bad thoughts from my head and plaster a fake smile on my face.

  “Don’t. Don’t fake smile at me. You hate it don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t hate it at all. I think it would look better in my kitchen, that’s all.”

  “Yours? You live in a gross bachelor pad. What would you want with something like this?”

  “I don’t know, maybe I put a bid on that house we looked at last week.” I say like it’s no big deal, watch as her face lights up.

  “I know you put a bid on it; did your offer get accepted?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Oh come on!” She is practically yelling and hits my arm. “I really liked that house, and if you get it I could live there vicariously through you.” She laughs as she says it.

  “I got it.” I smile at her. A house is a house to me. I was reaching a certain age and thought it was time to be responsible, so I went house hunting, with Charlie of course. We looked for a while, until we saw this brick fixer upper. It was outdated and neglected. An older couple lived in it for 45 yrs, raised their family and moved to Florida to finish out their days.