Crazy Madly Deeply

by Lily White

  My eyes locked on the hallway next, seconds before Jack turned to look. I’d only experienced time stopping once before. I’d only felt this chill course through me during one other event. That time involved Jack and Holden, as well.

  Holden...

  My breath froze in my lungs to see him.

  Holden Bishop had grown in the past two years. Not just in height or width, but in presence, in magnitude, in strength. I wasn’t sure how to explain what my body was feeling, what my heart was doing to look at him, why I hadn’t yet taken a breath since my eyes connected with his neon blue stare radiating cold, raw hatred.

  In high school he’d been a shadow, a wisp of darkness that tore down the halls with his shoulders folded in on themselves, his head lowered, his mind trapped by whatever he was reading, or whatever image captured his thoughts. But now, Holden stood with his head high, his broad shoulders rolled back, the darkness about him no longer a shadow but a black hole that absorbed and licked at the light all around him.

  I took a breath.

  “Well, there he is! The freak of the hour. I was wondering when you’d stop hiding and come out to say hello.”

  Jack’s voice boomed above the whispers hissing through the room, venomous snakes of gossip and rumors. The older woman moved to block Jack when he stood up, the waitress waving over a few other men who wore chef pants and aprons. They stepped out of the kitchen and took a place behind the older woman but in front of Holden.

  “You need to leave my diner right now, Mr. Thorne. And if you’re not out within the next five seconds, I’ll call the cops and report you for trespassing.”

  Jack’s gaze slid between the older woman and Holden, a grin stretching his lips in challenge. “Did you hear that Holden? I have to leave. All because you’re a scared, little crazy freak who can’t take care of himself. Not so big and bad anymore are you?”

  Laughter rolled like soft thunder across the tables, snickers and jeers. I don’t know how Holden stood so still to hear it, his expression blank, his eyes daring Jack to come closer despite the people standing between them.

  “Come on, Jack. We don’t need the cops called. Especially not with-“ My eyes flicked down pointedly to his pocket where I knew his drugs were stashed.

  Jack hesitated.

  “Listen to your girlfriend, Mr. Thorne. At least she has enough sense to know where she’s not welcome.”

  His eyes narrowed on the woman, his hands clenching and releasing. If I didn’t get him out of here now, he’d start a fight with someone. Stupid fucking drugs. They make people insane.

  “Come on, Jack. I want to go.” Grabbing his arm, I ignored the way his bicep flexed beneath my palm. He was high as a kite and wound up by whatever uppers Jimmy Jr. had given him. Thankfully, he was sober enough to realize he couldn’t take on all the employees of the diner to get to Holden. Shooting me a scathing look, Jack wrenched his arm from my hand, stormed out of the diner without bothering to look back. Tucking my hands into my jacket, I shuffled out behind him, aware that the older woman was following me as far as a few steps outside the door.

  Turning, I peered over at her, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. Keeping my voice low, I apologized. “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t want to come here and cause trouble.”

  Her eyes studied me before she shook her head and scowled. “You seem to have some sense. A girl like you can do a hell of a lot better than that jackass. Money isn’t everything, sweetheart, and you’ll do better in life when you learn it. I know my advice is beneath you, but I’m giving it to you anyway: You need to drop that guy like a bad habit. He’s not right in the head.”

  With that, she spun and stormed inside. Jack was pulling out of the space before I even reached the car. Stopping just long enough for me to climb inside, he didn’t give me time to close my door before peeling out of the parking lot.

  Keeping quiet, I refused to look at him as we tore down the main drive taking all the curves at a dangerous speed despite what happened last time he was driving like this on an icy night.

  “Please slow down,” I finally whispered, too afraid to add any strength to my voice.

  His jaw ticked. “Slow down. You want me to slow down?” His foot pressed the pedal harder, the needle of the speedometer shooting higher.

  Hitting the brake suddenly, he turned the wheel, the car’s tires sliding over slick asphalt, my hands clenching to whatever I could find to hold myself in place as we spun to go back the other direction.

  “No, I’m not going to slow down. Not until I’m in a nice little hiding place where I can wait for that bastard. He owes me for what he did to my nose, and I’m going to break him a little as payback.”

  His car was speeding through town again, back toward the diner, toward Holden. Panic erupted in my chest, my heartbeat erratic as I held on to the handle of the door, praying I’d find a way to turn him back around and away from the diner. “Jack, this is ridiculous, we’re going to be late to the party.” Trying to sound bored rather than petrified, I leaned his direction, put my hand on his knee and smiled. He didn’t bother looking at me, but at the speed we were going, I was fine with that. I’d rather his eyes remain on the road.

  “We’ll still go to the party. I’m sure once that freak gets out of work, it’ll only take me a few minutes to get even for my nose. Just one bone, that’s all I need to break. One.”

  The panic spread to my stomach causing bile to roll over itself, to push its way up and burn my throat. “But you have the party favors, Jack. Clive and the other guys-“

  “Will understand,” he barked. “They hate that crazy freak as much as me. We wanted to get even for that last fight, but he never came back to school.”

  Probably because you almost killed him with your car, I thought, too afraid to voice the words. Probably because he lost his family.

  Jack passed the diner and kept driving until we were near the train tracks. Pulling into a small empty dirt lot masked by shadow, he parked. His words were slowing down, his hands shaking. He needed another bump as the itch surged through him. While he angled his hips to reach in his pocket, I continued arguing, desperate to get him to the party and away from Holden. “This is gross, Jack. Aren’t you worried about your car in this lot? There could be razors and used needles, broken glass or other things that could pop your tires.”

  If I’d learned anything in the five years I’d been with Jack, it was that playing to his own interests was better than defending whatever target he’d set his sights on. I knew better than to tell him to leave Holden alone for Holden’s sake. Jack would only accuse me of being a freak fucker for doing so. “Plus, it’s an all night diner. You don’t know what time he gets off work. We could be sitting here for hours in the cold.”

  Jack wasn’t paying me much attention, not with the plastic baggie in his hand filled with white powder, not with the tiny spoon he was dipping down into that powder before bringing it to his nose. He inhaled it harshly, sniffing over and over to make sure he got it all. After closing the baggie, he rubbed his nostrils, his head falling back against his seat. “Shut up, Michaela. Stop complaining about everything.”

  I couldn’t shut up. Not when we were sitting here waiting to jump a man that hadn’t done anything wrong. Not when I remembered back to the diner and Holden’s presence. While Holden had grown in the past two years, Jack had become softer. He was still tall, still muscular, but nothing like he’d been in his senior year of high school. Since starting college, he’d stopped playing football and wasn’t working out anymore. Add how the drugs had been eating away at his physique, and I doubted Jack was an equal match for Holden.

  The shaking in Jack’s hands stopped a few seconds after he snorted whatever the powder was, his eyes wide open as he stared out the window toward the tracks. “I’ll wait for as long as it takes,” he finally said, his voice gritty, his throat moving to swallow. Turning to look at me, he allowed his gaze to travel down my body. “If you want to pass the time you
could always do me a favor.”

  Deja vu came flaring back. History repeating itself. This night mirroring the other. Decisions being made that would affect our lives in tragic ways. The bile crept further up, coating the back of my tongue with its acrid flavor. “I’m not doing it. Not here. I want to go.”

  The sound was sharp, so sharp it ricocheted through the car, the burning pain across my cheek bone trailing behind that sound. By the time my mind could catch on to understand that Jack had hit me, his fingers were gripped in my hair, the strands snapping from my skull with how hard he gripped. I was being shoved down toward his lap, his words bellowing to fill the small space inside the car and chasing away the remaining echo of the strike to my face.

  “You’ll do what I fucking tell you.”

  Tears welled in my eyes, dripping down my cheek to dot his jeans, my unfocused gaze watching as he unbuttoned his pants to force the favor from me. He was too strong, too dangerous when he was like this.

  He wasn’t giving me another option.

  I was being stripped of my choice.

  I was sick and tired of a life where I was forced to behave, forced to smile and pose, forced to swallow the lie that being born into privilege was somehow a blessing.

  If anything, the privilege I was born into was smothering the life out of me, stealing the soul from my body and forcing me into an early grave.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Holden

  A pall had fallen over the rest of my night after Jack made an ass of himself in the diner, a bad feeling crammed so far in my heart that I couldn’t shake the hatred, the rage, the need to work the aggression out in some way that wouldn’t hurt anybody. Normally when I felt like this, I would lock myself in my studio and paint. I would work myself until I was bleary-eyed and exhausted, only to wind down with my guitar in my lap, softly singing whatever song came to mind while I strummed the remaining tension away. Nights like that would leave paint smears on my skin and on my guitar strings. I didn’t mind the smears, didn’t mind the dabs of color added to brighten the drab, monotonous black and white.

  It was unfortunate I didn’t have the option to lock myself away once Angela had forced Jack and Michaela from the diner. After breaking a stack of plates and damn near shattering a rack of glasses, Angela pulled me aside, ignoring the dirty dishes piling up as she dragged me out back for a smoke and a pep talk.

  Wrapping her arms across her body, she stared up at me with concern etched in her expression. “So that kid, he’s a bully, Holden. A no good jerk that would be nothing without his daddy’s wallet. Don’t let him get to you.”

  Pulling a drag from my smoke, I tilted my head to the sky and blew it out, watching the smoke swirl and stretch across the cold winds sneaking around the side of the building. “He’s a lot more than a jerk, Angela. You and I both know that, but I won’t worry about it. I won’t do anything about it. He just pisses me off, that’s all.”

  “Not just you. He pissed off everybody in that diner.”

  Soft laughter shook my shoulders. “Not everybody.” Not the people sitting at their tables, not the bratty rich kids who were slumming it in my half of Tranquil Falls before heading back to their end to have fun. Those kids had laughed. They looked up to people like Jack, thought speaking out and saying whatever you felt like was something to be admired. They’d crowned their king of hatred and greed because it gave them the go ahead to be just as hateful and petty as him.

  Breathing out in a huff, Angela rolled her eyes. “He pissed off everybody that matters. Who cares what those dumb kids think as they gobble down the heart attacks on a platter I serve them each night? They’re dumb. They’ve never been taught any better.”

  “He doesn’t matter,” I drolled, mindless repetition of her words that would get her off my back if she believed I actually meant them. Angela knew better. She knew Jack mattered, that if anybody on the entire planet mattered, it was him. He may not have been the direct cause of my parents’ deaths, but he was a catalyst. And for that, he mattered more than anybody would ever know.

  “You don’t mean that and don’t try to play me like I’m an idiot.”

  Her tone of voice brought a smile to my face. Angela was a mother to everybody, but especially me. I felt sorry for her that she’d decided to take on that role. I wasn’t an easy child.

  “I know you hate Jack Thorne for everything that happened to your mom and dad. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve thought of a thousand different ways to break him apart and leave the husk out as carrion. To be honest, I just thought of a hundred ways to kill him after that show he put on in the dining room, but I’ll keep those thoughts to myself because I’m not giving you any ideas.” Her voice softened, the anger dissipating into concern. “But you still have your sister, and that girl needs you right now. She can’t survive on her own. Not until she can come to terms with what happened.”

  Taking another drag, I eyed the smoke tumbling over my lips as I answered, “I’m not going to do anything to him.”

  “Damn straight, you’re not. You’re too good for that, Holden Bishop. And you’re also going to stop murdering my dishes. I don’t have the money to replace my entire kitchen because you’re in a bad mood.”

  Her hand clasped my shoulder. “You’re also going to quit that nasty smoking habit, but I’ll let you have this one in peace because you deserve it. I know it wasn’t easy for you to stay put in the hall when that spoiled rotten waste of skin was screaming all those things at you. But you did stay put, which tells me you’re stronger than him. Better in every way that matters.”

  An unintentional smoke ring burst of my lips, stretching and growing until the perfect circle was torn apart entirely. “It’ll be fine,” I breathed out, the tension bleeding from my shoulders because Angela had been right in everything she’d said. Especially about Deli. She needed me and I wouldn’t let myself do something that could take me away from her.

  Deli mattered more than Jack, but in a different way.

  “And I’m sorry about the dishes. I slipped on the mat.”

  “Sure you did,” she replied, “we can go with the word ‘slipped’ even though we both know it was more than that.” A breath poured out of her. “You have two more hours before your shift ends and I know you’re meeting Kaley at her house after. You can work out your issues with her in a more constructive way, in a respectful way. With a condom.”

  Angela pointed her finger in my face, her eyes narrowed in warning. I laughed. “Did Kaley tell you that?”

  More laughter now, Angela’s shoulders relaxing, the worry bleeding out of her expression. “No, she didn’t. The girl thinks nobody in the diner knows about you two, but we aren’t stupid. The instant she went bouncing out of this place with a stupid smile on her face, we knew you two had plans to meet up. When are you going to make an honest woman out of her?”

  “She doesn’t want to be honest. Kaley’s perfectly content with keeping things casual. I don’t have time for honest, anyway, not with Deli to look after.”

  “Well, that’s between you two. The point is to let all this drama with Jack go. It’s not worth your time or your energy. And let’s face it, if something did happen and you hurt that boy, the circumstances wouldn’t matter. The cops would cart you off and lay the blame on you just so they could avoid dealing with the team of lawyers his family could afford. It won’t matter, Holden. They’ll blame you.” After eyeing me and confirming I understood, she nodded her head and jut her chin in the diner’s direction. “Finish your cigarette and get back to work when you’re done.”

  Stepping away, she stopped short, twisting back to look at me. “And if I hear another dish break back there, I’m going to shove you through the dishwasher myself. I’m not down with the shenanigans, you hear me?”

  Smoke filled laughter blew from my lungs, the sound chasing after her as she made her way inside. After a few minutes, I returned to the dish station and spent the remaining two hours mindlessly doing my job with
out breaking another dish.

  My shift was up, so I straightened up the dish area as best I could for George who would be taking over for the rest of the night. Stripping the vinyl apron off, I shrugged back into my hoodie and jacket, tugged my beanie down low over my head and made my way to the back door. Angela intercepted me before I could make it.

  Grabbing my arm, she asked, “Are you going to be all right?”

  My smile beamed. It felt good to know someone genuinely cared. “I’ll be fine,” I promised, but my voice turned into a tease when I added, “but I’d be a whole lot better if I was leaving here to meet you.”

  Wiggling my eyebrows, I slipped an arm around her to squeeze Angela tight, to feel the way her body shook with laughter. The freedom of it extinguished the last of the dark feelings inside me.

  Pulling away, she smacked my shoulder. “One of these days my husband is going to come down here and whip your butt for flirting with me. But until then, take care of yourself and have fun with your casual sex. I’ll see you in two days for your next shift.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Turning to leave, I was halfway out the door when she shouted, “Condoms, Holden Bishop. The world isn’t ready for little Holdens running around flirting with random people.”

  Shaking my head, I let the door slam shut behind me, my breath coming out in great, white plumes, my boots crunching over the gravel path. Rounding a stand of trees that sat out back, I stepped onto the main road through town, crossed it and hung a right toward the tracks. It was only a mile between the diner and my house when I took the shortcut through the woods. Normally, I didn’t mind the walk, except for on nights it was so cold that the dampness on my pants from the dishwasher turned to ice.

  The night was quiet. Not quite midnight yet, this side of town had gone to sleep, the drugged out losers tucked away in their squatter houses, the families tucked away as well, but behind deadbolts and chain locks. The servants’ quarters had degenerated more since my parents died, the vagrants and meth-heads attempting to break into houses when desperation for money had them in its grasp.