Never Coming Down

by Deja Voss

  I walk past my bike to the garage at the end of the road and she struggles to keep up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m manning up, Olive,” I tell her. “If we’re going to make this work, we’re loading up the truck and she’s moving in tonight.” I can’t quite read the expression on her face but it isn’t what I expected.

  “Maybe you should play that part by ear,” she suggests.

  She’s right. This could go either way. It could go any way. But whatever happens is going to be the right way. I am going to do my best to sweep her off her feet, beg her to stay, and promise her the life I know I can offer her. It might not be much, but I will make sure that I will never do anything to intentionally hurt her.

  “Good luck,” she says, hugging me. “I hope I get to see you both soon.”

  “Thanks, Ollie. You look extra pretty tonight by the way. Trying to impress someone?”

  “What, with this old rag?” she laughs, smoothing her slinky black strapless dress. “I’m just doing me.”

  I hop into my big black truck, revving the engine and putting it in gear. I’m nervous as hell as I pull out of the driveway and start the long journey down the side of the hill.

  Her car is still parked out front, and I’m relieved. The last time I was here was when everything started unraveling, and I still to this day want nothing more than to get those assholes Scott and Jarvis in a dark alley alone sometime.

  I give myself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror. My beard’s a little excessive and the bags under my eyes are darker than ever, but I’m fairly certain that’s not going to be the deal breaker. The deal breaker is going to be the fact that I’ve ignored her and avoided her for nine months. I thought I was doing the right thing. Turns out, we both suffer from the same sort of condition: running from our problems, hiding out instead of facing things head on. The suffering I’ve felt is worse than anything I could’ve imagined, worse than anything my father could’ve brought down on me if I decided to work things out with her then and there.

  Now’s my chance to make it right.

  I knock on the door, softly at first. I can hear footsteps across the floor and what sounds like a man’s voice. I press my ear to it, trying to figure out what’s going on.

  “I swear, Arthur, I wasn’t expecting anyone. You have my phone.”

  There’s some soft murmurs that I can’t make out. I knock again, louder this time, more determined. Something is definitely not right. What could he possibly be doing here? Last I heard, they found him in Mexico and sent him back to federal prison. There’s no way he’d be here on her own volition.

  I need to act fast. I try to come up with the most logical story I can fathom. She can either send me away or send me a message, but I have to make sure she knows I’m here to help her.

  “Sloan, I know you’re in there!” I yell. “This is your landlord, Bill. I need to do an inspection so I can get you your security deposit back.” I hope she knows it’s me. I hope with all my heart that she recognizes my voice and knows I’m here to help her.

  More murmurs and shuffling. My heart is pounding. I will break this fucking door down if I have to. My heart stops beating when I hear the door unlock. I don’t know who I’m going to be greeted with, but my pistol is loaded and ready to go.

  She pulls the door open just far enough so that I can tell the security chain is still hooked. All I can see is an inch or two of her face, but the look of horror in her eyes tells me something bad is about to happen.

  It hits me all at once how much I care about her, how stupid I was for ever letting her go. I don’t know what else is on the other side of that door, but now’s not the time to try and swoop in like some sort of blind idiot.

  “Let me in, now,” I order.

  Sloan

  Holy shit. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to rip open the door and throw my arms around him, but I have a gun trained to the back of my head, pressing into the base of my skull, so I’m going to have to be a little more discreet. I don’t know why Gavin is here, but I’ve never been so thankful to see someone in my entire life.

  “Help,” I mouth silently.

  “Sloan, will you please let me in?” he says from behind the crack in the door while keeping a little distance. “I need to make sure you made the repairs I asked you to so I can give you your security deposit back.”

  God, he’s so smart. I hope he can read into what I’m about to say.

  “I didn’t,” I say, seriously as possible, trying to sound convincing even with wide eyes and trembling hands. “I didn’t do the repairs. The fire escape is still broken from the last time I had to climb in the bedroom window when I locked myself out. Just keep it to cover the cost of the fire escape.”

  I slam the door in his face.

  “It was only two hundred bucks.” I shrug. “Not worth risking our covers. Now can you please stop with the damn gun?”

  “I’m sorry,” he sighs, his hands trembling as he lowers the gun to his hip. “I guess I’m just so scared of losing you again.”

  “So scared that you’re going to kill me?”

  “If I have to, I will.” He shrugs casually. “Please don’t make me have to.”

  I know he’s serious.

  “Relax,” I assure him. I’m grasping for any possible acting skills I have accumulated over the years. I trace my hand up his chest and cup his chin in my hand. “I kinda like this stubble you have going on, Art. It’s really sexy.”

  Most of my life with Arthur was waiting around for the day that he actually decided it was time for me to die. I had convinced myself I was already dead. I had nothing I really cared about, nothing I wanted to live for, I just drifted about. But now, after seeing Gavin, I realize I have so much to live for, so much that I care about in this world. My life is just getting started, and I’m not going down without a fight, even if it means sucking it up and trying not to gag while I make this monster in front of me think I’m in love with him.

  I am trying not to blatantly stare at the bedroom window, trying not to draw attention to the fire escape that is actually in perfectly good condition, although I have had to use it multiple times to break in when I forgot my keys. Instead, I focus on the task at hand. I need to disarm him. I need to find something to keep him busy. As terrified as I am, there are two people’s lives at risk now, and if anything happens to Gavin by the hands of this asshole, I will never be able to live with myself.

  “Do you think it’s been forty-five minutes?” I ask him. “We should probably try and get this stuff off my head before it burns my scalp.”I hope to God this is going to be enough to distract him. I say every prayer I can remember while he holds my head under the faucet, massaging the dye from my scalp.

  “You were right,” he says disappointedly. “This didn’t work. Your hair is kind of orange.”

  “Oh shit! Well wash it all the way out and we can try another round,” I say, motioning towards the half empty bottle on the counter.

  And suddenly, there is he is. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch his tall dark figure through the bedroom door.

  I try to breathe naturally, try to keep my expression completely blank.

  “What is it?” Arthur says.

  “It burns,” I lie. “I think I’m having an allergic reaction.”

  Gavin is slowly slinking into the living room and I try not cringe as he walks across the floor, but he’s stealthy and quiet. He reaches for his gun in his pocket.

  “Shit!” I scream, as water and dye runs into my eye. Arthur jumps, startled.

  I can’t believe I just did that. I basically just gave him my death wish.

  “Let me grab a towel,” he says, and my heart stops beating. As he turns around, it’s clear what’s about to go down. “What the fuck, Sloan?” he hisses.

  He quickly grabs me, using me as a shield, and I just stand there, limp in his arms. I’m reciting those prayers again as quickly as possible in the back of my mind as
I feel him fish around in his waistband, and I know I have to do something fast.

  I grab for the half empty bottle of bleach and begin blindly squirting it over my shoulder, aiming for his eyes. It might have worked, because I feel him let go of me, staggering backwards towards the sink.

  “Grab his gun!” Gavin yells. Arthur is clawing at his eyes, his tortured screams like music to my ears. I reach into his pants and pull out the revolver, my hands trembling.

  “You fucking bitch,” he screams at me. “You shady fucking bitch!”

  “You want me to shoot him?” Gavin asks.

  “No,” I say, my voice wavering only for a moment. “I want to play with him a little bit first.”

  I shove Arthur’s head in the sink and flush his eyes out while Gavin just stands here watching, his jaw agape.

  “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asks. “Definitely not what I expected to walk into.”

  “Well, today I learned that the very guys who were supposed to be protecting and serving me basically drew this fucker a map to my house and invited him in. I thought they caught him and locked him up again months ago but this crazy asshole has been in hiding getting plastic surgery, dying his hair, and planning our escape.”

  “I have the letters, Sloan,” Arthur yells. “You wanted this. You’re just saying that because your boyfriend is here.”

  “You good?” I ask, pulling him by the hair from the sink, shutting off the water. “Can ya see?”

  He doesn’t answer me.

  I clutch the back of his head with all the rage and anger I have inside of me, everything I’ve stored up over the years. I’ve wanted to do this so many times, and having to force myself to play nice just so the police could get what they wanted from me was nearly impossible. Now I have him right where I want him, and I’m about to get my revenge.

  “First of all,” I hiss, “I didn’t write those letters. I would never in a million years write you a letter. I wanted nothing more than for you to rot in prison for the rest of your life. You got tricked, Arthur.”

  “Get in the living room,” I bark, pressing his gun into the base of his skull, just like he did to me moments ago. “How’s that feel, Arthur? You feeling a little scared now? What’s it like being on the other side of the gun? Because I really like where I’m standing right now.”

  “This man right here,” I tell him, pointing at Gavin. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a decent human being with amazing timing. The truth is, he’s too good for me. That’s what a real man looks like, Arthur. Nothing like you.”

  “Just fucking shoot me and get it over with, Sloan. You’re gonna do it anyway.”

  “Oh I know,” I assure him, “and it’s going to be fucking awesome. But for once, you don’t get to dictate what I do and how I do it.”

  The look of terror in his eyes has me fired up, almost turned on. Knowing I have his life in my hands to do whatever I wish with it is really empowering. There is no pity in me. There is no mercy in me. Gavin just watches, keeping his distance enough to let me do my thing, but making sure Arthur is well aware that he’s the muscle if he tries anything.

  “You tried to take everything away from me, Arthur. You thought you owned me. You never had ME though, Arthur. You had the person you made me into by beating me into submission and threatening to hurt the people I loved. The real me never went away; I just went into hiding. It took me years to realize who I am without you. And now I’m going to make sure I never have to think about you a day in my life ever again.”

  I could go on and on for hours, but he’s not worth any more words. The only person worth my words from now on is standing in the corner of the living room, patiently letting me have my moment.

  I let my mind go blank and just pull the trigger right between his eyes.

  Holy shit, guns are loud.

  My hands quiver, not so much because of the sight laid out in front of me but because of the noise and the recoil that felt like it was going to tear my shoulder out of the socket. Fortunately I was shooting point-blank. It all happened so fast.

  “I’m not good at that,” is all I manage to stutter. My face feels sticky. I stand over Arthur’s dead body, kicking him a couple times.

  “He’s dead, Sloan,” Gavin assures me.

  “I know,” I say, but for some reason it just feels good. “Thank you,” I hoarsely whisper as I drop the gun to the ground with a thud. I don’t have any words. I’m drained. On one hand, I’m happy. I’m finally free. On the other hand, there’s a lot of questions that need answered.

  After a few moments of silence, he comes over and squeezes my hand.

  “You want me to call the cops?” he asks. I look at him, perplexed. I just killed a man in my living room. Sure it would be self-defense in the long run, but that just seems like one hell of an ordeal to go through.

  “Absolutely not!” I say. Plus, I don’t want those crooked assholes to get any credit for taking this guy off the street. I’m sure it would get twisted in some way. Nobody knows he’s still out of jail; for all I know he paid someone off to do his prison sentence. Maybe no one will ever know what happened there.

  “So…” He is staring at me like he’s afraid to say the wrong thing. I’m sure I’m a sight to behold right now. “Olive says you’re going on vacation for a few months.”

  I smile through my tears. “Well, I don’t think I can stay here.”

  He begins to roll up the throw rug around Arthur’s body, and I just stand there watching.

  “I’m sorry you have to do the dirty work,” I say. “I just…” I’m sure he notices the way I’m shaking right now. I just killed a man. It was a man I wanted dead. It was something I’d dreamed of for most of my adult life, but right now I’m an emotional wreck.

  “Relax,” he says. “Been there, done that. Why don’t you just go grab a bag or something and we’ll go up the hill and get things sorted out for the night. You can stay at Esther’s house if you want.”

  It’s funny how willing he is to help me through this disaster, with no expectations whatsoever. I haven’t seen him in nine months. Hell, I don’t even know why he’s here, but right now he is acting like my perfect partner. He truly is a good man.

  “Can I stay with you?” I ask. “I mean, if it’s ok. I don’t know what your current situation is.”

  “You’re my current situation. You have been since the day I met you, Sloan. But we’re going to have a serious law enforcement situation here if we don’t get moving.” He heaves Arthur’s body, wrapped in the rug, over his shoulder with a groan. “Little fucker is dense,” he laughs.

  I wish I had something articulate to say. I wish I could just throw him down right here and tell him that I love him and that I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I kiss him softly on his lips. The way he feels is so overwhelming, so true, so right. I begin pacing around, scooping up odds and ends of evidence and throwing them in my duffle bag as quickly as possible.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’ll get somebody to take care of it. We need to get out of here now, though.”

  Chapter 39

  Gavin

  “So, uh, hey,” I say as we sit in my truck. “I’m gonna start driving now.”

  She’s shivering, her face white as a ghost.

  We wrapped Arthur in the throw rug and carried him down the steps without any incident. She popped the tailgate for me as I heaved him in the bed of the truck. She tossed her duffle bag over the back seat as I helped her get inside and buckled her seatbelt tight.

  She’s staring off into space, her lips moving, but no words coming out.

  “I’ll send some prospects down tomorrow to finish cleaning up. We’ll get your car and you can go wherever you need to go.”

  She goes to look in the rearview mirror, but between her badly chopped orange hair and the blood all over her face, I have a feeling she’s going to freak out. I reach up and turn the mirror to the side.

  “Maybe we don’t
do that just yet,” I suggest.

  “That bad, eh?” she finally says, breaking the silence.

  “I mean, I still think you’re beautiful.”

  She puts her head in her hands as if she’s about to cry, but instead a roar of laughter fills the air.

  “Fuck, Gavin,” she says through bursts of giggles, “Am I misfit enough to join you up on that mountain?”

  “Well from where I’m sitting right now, I think you’d even give my old man a run for his money.” I pull off to the side of the road and kiss her hard, cupping the back of her head in my hands. Tasting her lips again after all this time fulfills me. This is exactly what’s been missing from my life. I don’t want to ever stop, but we have the rest of our lives to do that. I just need to get us back to the farmhouse in one piece.

  “Take me home, Gavin,” she sighs, resting her hand on my thigh. The sweetest words I’ve ever heard coming from the only person I want to hear them from. We take the trip up the mountain in complete silence, but there are no words needed to fill in the blanks of our time apart. It sucked, and now it’s not going to anymore. She’s so easy. We’re so easy.

  I don’t even bother pulling the truck into the garage, just drive straight up the driveway to the front door. The party is still going in full force, and even though I know everyone will be more than happy to see her and talk to her, I don’t want to overwhelm her.

  “Straight to the shower?” I suggest. “I’ll send Ollie up with your bag?”

  She presses her lips to mine gently. “Sounds good.”

  “We’ll get rid of that,” I say, motioning to the back of the truck. “You’ll never have to worry about him again.”

  “Thank you,” she whispers. “Just… thank you.” Her face is slick with tears, but she’s smiling.

  I get out of the truck and drop the tailgate, my brothers gather around in the dark, watching in fascination. Hopefully I can distract them long enough that she can slip inside unnoticed.