The Walls

by Hollie Overton

  “Ry, I got a clean bill of health. I’m right as rain.”

  “You sure?” he asked, his eyes boring into her. Kristy kept her gaze on the road ahead, determined that the cracks wouldn’t show.

  “You bet,” she lied, because that’s what she did now.

  “I was thinking, instead of riding back on the bus, I could ride home with you. We could grab lunch. It’ll be just like the old days, when it was just the two of us.”

  “I’d love that,” Kristy said.

  She pulled into the deserted high school parking lot, the school bus idling at the entrance. Ryan gave her a quick wave. Kristy watched him amble onto the bus, fist-bumping his friends and sinking down into a seat beside Ella. Ryan glanced out the window and caught Kristy’s eye. He held up his hand and waved. Kristy swallowed hard, trying to remind herself that he would be all right, but the sense of impending doom had returned, and she didn’t think it would ever go away.

  Kristy headed out of town, driving past the prison, eyeing the walls and barbed wire, the sharpshooters in the towers with their rifles. For years Kristy drove by this place and only thought about the guilty, locked away where they belonged. But now she wondered how many of the inmates were at one point just like her. Out of options? Desperate? Searching for another solution? Kristy wondered how she’d survive in prison, locked away from everyone and everything she loved. She shook away the thought. She hadn’t broken any laws. Not yet anyway.

  The car cruised along the highway, Kristy streaking past farmhouses and an endless stretch of gas stations, fast-food restaurants, and big-box stores. According to the woman at the halfway house, visiting hours were from nine a.m. to two p.m.

  Kristy made record time and arrived at eight forty-five. She parked outside the split-level home that served as transitional housing for addicts and recently released inmates. Kristy watched the clock, waiting until nine on the dot before climbing out of her car. She was walking up the sidewalk when she saw Lisette open the front door and head down the steps.

  Tiny, maybe five foot two, her short dark hair now long, a fringe of bangs hiding her dark green eyes, her olive complexion flawless, offering the kind of perfection only youth provided. She wore jeans that were a few sizes too big and a T-shirt and cardigan, and she flipped through her phone as she made her way down the driveway. She looked delicate and fragile, like if a heavy wind blew through, she’d be swept away.

  “Lisette?” Kristy asked. “Lisette Mendoza?”

  Lisette startled, glancing up from her phone, clutching her purse to her. Lisette clearly recognized Kristy. She wondered how long Lisette had watched them. Was it just that night in the parking lot of the restaurant? Or did she see Kristy, Ryan, and Lance driving around, creating some kind of imaginary life, the life she once had with her mother?

  “I thought I told you to stay away,” Lisette hissed, eyes darting around, that same trapped animal expression that Yoli wore.

  “Lance isn’t here,” Kristy said, refusing to back down. “My son’s debate tournament is at UT and Lance is on a hunting trip in Conroe. He doesn’t know I’m here. I swear.”

  “I don’t care. Go away,” Lisette said, and continued walking.

  Kristy had enough of people telling her what to do. She reached out and grabbed Lisette, clutching her arm the same way Lance clutched hers.

  “You know who Lance is. Or at least I think you do. I mean, you spray-painted ‘murderer’ on my goddamn truck. Now you’re going to tell me what you know. Do you hear me? I deserve to know who I married.” Kristy’s voice broke, thick with desperation.

  Lisette stared at Kristy, her words triggering something.

  “I have a meeting,” Lisette said. “AA. It’s court ordered,” she said, gesturing to her ankle bracelet, which would monitor Lisette’s comings and goings. “I can meet you in an hour. There’s a coffee shop called Dialog. It’s right around the corner.”

  Kristy didn’t argue. There was a chance Lisette could bail, but that was a risk she’d have to take.

  Kristy left her car and walked to the coffee shop, all bright white interior decor with splashes of red. A bit assaulting to the senses, like hanging out in a giant Warhol painting, but the place was packed. Kristy ordered a chocolate crème donut and a chai latte and tucked herself into a corner, hoping to remain as discreet as possible. She surveyed the bustling place, longing to be one of these fresh-faced things, devouring the classics while plotting their futures.

  Kristy couldn’t take her eyes off a purple-haired girl in a crop top and nose ring, laughing sexily as she clung to her tattoo-covered boyfriend, his hands caressing her bare waist. What must it be like to be that carefree? Kristy had never been that girl, but right now that’s all she wanted. No. That wasn’t true. She wanted so much more than this life had given her. Kristy had brought work to read over but instead she sat staring into space, thinking about how different things might have been if she’d never met Lance. She didn’t even realize an hour had passed until she heard Lisette’s voice.

  “I’m here. What do you want?”

  “I want to know about your mom and Lance … Wayne. That’s all.”

  Lisette did a quick scan of the room, and then she sank into the chair across from Kristy. Lisette had a hollowed-out expression, grief clinging to every part of her. Lisette assessed Kristy, clocking the faint but ever-present bruises on her forehead and cheeks.

  “Car accident,” Kristy said reflexively.

  A thin sliver of a smile appeared on Lisette’s face.

  “Yeah. Sure it is,” she said.

  There was a harshness to Lisette that Kristy found unsettling. Was she always like that, or was that a by-product of growing up with Lance? Would she see that same shift in Ryan one day? God, she couldn’t bear that.

  “I’m sorry about your mom,” Kristy said, knowing those words were meaningless. She’d heard them over and over again after her own mother died. I’m sorry. You have my condolences. It’s such a loss. At least she’s in a better place. You had to say them. It was required. But Lisette didn’t bother acknowledging Kristy’s trite words.

  “Wayne didn’t kill my mom. I mean he didn’t physically murder her. She killed herself.”

  “Are you sure?” Kristy said.

  “Yeah. Wayne was on a hunting trip with my grandpa when Mom died.”

  Kristy tried to conceal her relief. She hated that she’d become someone who was grateful that another woman had taken her own life.

  “But he drove her to it. He’s the reason she’s gone. Day by day, he made her think there was no way out.” Lisette’s every word was matter-of-fact.

  “But no one knew he was …?”

  “Evil incarnate? No. That surprised us all. I guess we just didn’t expect something like that to happen. My parents divorced when I was nine. Totally agreeable too. They sat me down and said, ‘Honey, this isn’t working out. But we love you. We’re committed to you. Blah. Blah. Blah.’ My dad remarried but Mom had a real knack for picking losers. Or guys who didn’t want to deal with a kid. Mom and Wayne met at a real estate conference in New Orleans, bonding over prime mortgages. Wayne was always doing things for us, fixing our plumbing or buying a new entertainment center. He got me into judo and I got really good. Like, I almost made the Junior Olympics. By then, Dad had moved to Florida for work and Wayne stepped into Dad’s role.”

  Kristy didn’t want to listen to any more of this. She didn’t want to know that she was just another number in Lance’s screwed-up lineup.

  “But things changed? With your mom? I mean, Lance did things to her?” Kristy asked, wanting to know that she wasn’t the only one Lance had duped.

  “And I didn’t notice. I didn’t see a thing,” Lisette said.

  A flicker of guilt lingered on Lisette’s face. She shook it away.

  “Mom died my sophomore year in high school. I had spent homecoming night at my best friend Cara’s. Our neighbor went over to let Mom know that the sprinklers were on and she he
ard the car running in the garage. Two hours later, a cop showed up at Cara’s. He said, ‘Your mom’s gone,’ and I couldn’t understand. Gone where? Where would she go? There was no note. Nothing. I was so pissed. I couldn’t understand why she would do this to me. To us. That’s what I kept saying over and over again those first few days. I wasn’t alone. It was me and Wayne. United in grief.”

  Lisette’s voice wavered.

  “But he hurt her?”

  “You know that he did,” Lisette said, that edge stronger now. “Or you wouldn’t be here.”

  Lisette picked at her nails, the pale pink polish peeling off, but she lowered her voice.

  “It was three days after Mom died. Wayne was downstairs making funeral arrangements, calling the funeral home, the florists. ‘Don’t worry, Lizzy. I’ve got it handled,’ he’d said. I saw an e-mail come in, from a different account, saw her name in the subject heading, and for a minute it was like she was reaching out from the grave. Guess she created a new e-mail address and used one of those apps to schedule it to arrive after we found her. I sat on my bed reading all the despicable things Wayne did to her. Every move he taught me, he’d already tried out on her, like she was his own personal training dummy. But I’m sure you know …”

  Kristy nodded. She knew better than anyone. “He used me against her, used to threaten to do things to me in order to keep her in line. She couldn’t handle it anymore. She became convinced that once she was gone, Wayne would leave too. All she wanted to do was protect me. I printed Mom’s e-mail and left it on the dining table with a note that said, ‘I know what you did. Get the fuck out.’ When I came home the next day, Wayne was gone, along with all of Mom’s jewelry.”

  Lisette looked down at the emerald band on Kristy’s ring finger. Kristy gasped, feeling bile rising in her throat.

  “Oh my God. No … no … he said this was his grandmother’s.”

  “Not his. Mine.”

  Kristy went to pull the ring off, but Lisette stopped her.

  “Don’t. I don’t want it. Besides, who knows what would happen if he saw you without it.”

  Kristy flinched. She couldn’t begin to imagine.

  “You didn’t tell the police?” Kristy asked.

  “Mom was dead. What did it matter? And I bet you haven’t gone to the police either. Because you just don’t know what Wayne is capable of.”

  Kristy nodded, Lisette verbalizing her fears for the first time.

  “So … you were the one that vandalized my truck?” Kristy asked.

  “I thought it was Lance’s. My boyfriend’s uncle lives in Conroe and he invited us down for spring break. I’d been doing so good. Found a church I liked, was going to meetings. Hadn’t gotten into any trouble. Thought I finally had a handle on things. Then I see you and Wayne and your kid and all of you are laughing and enjoying yourselves. And it was like my mom didn’t even exist. Like he’d just replaced all of us with a new family. Your family. What I did was stupid but I was so pissed. I get back to Austin and all of a sudden I’m seeing news reports, people talking about how whoever did that could face prison time for threatening a state official, and I was so scared. Then Wayne showed up, and I was like, ‘God, Lisette, you’re like the dumbest person on the planet.’ Like, I forgot how insane he was.”

  “He came to your house?”

  “No. That’s not Wayne’s style. No, he showed up at my job. I was waiting tables and there he was, sitting in my section. Said he just wanted to talk. He understood I was still grieving but he’d moved on and I needed to as well. It wasn’t just for my sake, but for my daughter’s. He had our pictures. The two of us playing in a park. He smiled. ‘Don’t look so surprised, Lizzy. We both have a lot to lose. Remember that from here on out.’ I promised him I’d stay away and I did.”

  “We weren’t together. Not then. After that night … that night brought us closer.”

  “He would’ve found another way to get you. If Wayne wanted you, he was gonna get you,” Lisette said without apology.

  “So your troubles,” Kristy asked, gesturing to the bracelet.

  “I’d been doing so well before that day. Like I could almost convince myself life was normal again. But seeing Wayne brought it all back. You ever used meth?”

  “No. I never got past pot.”

  “Meth is like the greatest high you will ever experience,” Lisette said, her voice reverential, eyes twinkling as if she were describing a trip to Mecca or meeting Jesus Christ himself. “It just erases the edge, softens and brightens everything all at the same time. Made things good for a while and then real bad.”

  “So … Lance never beat you or got physical with you?” Kristy asked.

  “No. I think he just wanted my mom and I was part of the package. I wished he had tried something. I’m a pretty good fighter. Wayne knows that. He trained me himself.”

  Kristy wanted to understand what sick, demented brain worm living inside Lance could make him do those things.

  “Do you know anything else about Lance’s past? Friends? Family?” Kristy asked.

  “He was always having some kind of falling-out with someone. Never Wayne’s fault. Far as family goes, the way he told it, his mother abandoned them, but I have a feeling Daddy dearest liked to smack his mom around and she had enough. Maybe Wayne was too young to know that part. Whatever happened, he’s one seriously twisted motherfucker.”

  Lisette absentmindedly flicked the small pile of pink nail polish onto the floor and reached for her phone, checking the time.

  “Gotta go or I’ll miss my curfew,” Lisette said.

  “Thanks for talking to me,” Kristy said, though she almost wished she hadn’t. Lisette had just confirmed Kristy’s worst fears about Lance. “There’s just one more thing I’d like you to do.”

  “What is it?”

  “As far as anyone is concerned, we’ve never met.”

  “You’ve got it,” Lisette said, reaching up to touch the small gold cross she was wearing. “Do you know Scripture? God’s word, I mean?” she asked.

  “No. I’m afraid I’m not very religious,” Kristy said.

  “The Lord got me through a lot of hard times. Got me sober. Gave me a second chance with my baby girl and my boyfriend. Because of God’s guidance, my dad is speaking to me again. But even the Lord knows there are some souls that can’t be saved. Peter chapter five, verse eight, says, ‘Be sober. Be vigilant. Because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.’ Be careful, Kristy, or Wayne will devour you and your entire family whole.”

  Lisette hurried out, leaving Kristy behind. The bustle of the café moved around her but all the noise seemed to vanish. She remembered Pamela’s matter-of-fact story. She’d done everything right. Gone to the cops, tried to tell the truth, and no one would listen to her. Even if Kristy wanted to do that now, she had proof that Lance was unhinged. He’d already tormented one woman to death. He’d threatened not only Kristy’s life but the lives of her father and son. All those burns and bruises, all the assaults and the forced sexual encounters that Kristy had to silently endure. Pamela’s words kept echoing in Kristy’s head. Roger was a fucking lunatic. In the end, it was the only choice. The same could be said about Lance. If Kristy had any doubts about Lance before today, Lisette eviscerated them.

  She’d hoped that by doing her research on Lance she would find another way out. Now she knew there wasn’t one. Lance was still screwing up Lisette’s life, even after her mother was gone. Kristy wanted Ryan to have a future, go to college, move on, live a happy life. None of that would ever happen with the shadow of Lance hanging over him for the rest of his life. After all these months of suffering and being afraid, things were finally coming into focus. Kristy had made up her mind. She was going to kill her husband.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Not once in Kristy’s entire life had murder ever crossed her mind. That day she sat across from Clifton and he’d told her there were options, even then she wasn’
t sure. And now, even though she’d made her decision, Kristy still couldn’t shake the nagging voice inside her head screaming over and over, You’re not a murderer. You’re not a murderer. But maybe that’s what everyone who’d been pushed to the brink once thought.

  Kristy hurried across the sprawling University of Texas campus, eager to see Ryan, forcing herself to shut out any thought about the future and Lance, at least for right now. This was a huge day for Ryan and she owed him that.

  Debate tournaments weren’t like sporting events. Spectators weren’t allowed, but some of the clingier parents, Kristy included, often gathered in the lobby, waiting to hear the results and see how their kids had done. She was late though. When she arrived to find Ryan and the team in the lobby, they were already celebrating. Ryan was ecstatic, eyes shining, tie loosened like a political candidate beaming after having accepted his party’s nomination. When he saw Kristy, Ryan lost all form of teenage self-consciousness and bounded over and threw his arms around her.

  “Mama Bear, we won! Can you believe it? We destroyed everyone. It was a total slaughter. We’re state champions,” Ryan said, his eyes lit up.

  Kristy hugged him tightly, tears welling.

  “I’m so damn proud of you, Ry,” Kristy whispered.

  “Ella, come here. Tell Mom how much we destroyed the other teams. Their cases literally fell apart.”

  “Ryan was amazing, Ms. Tucker. Everyone was talking about him,” she said, leaning into Ryan.

  “No way. Ella’s cross-examination slayed them. She’s the reason we made it to the final round. Can you believe it, Mom? State champs in our junior year!” Ryan said.

  “I never doubted it for a second,” Kristy said, watching as Ryan and his friends snapped more photos and hugged one another. Parents and other teammates shook Kristy’s hand, congratulating her for a job well done. It was a buoyant celebration, and at the center of it all was Ryan, relaxed and confident. Whatever happened next, whatever Kristy had to do, she’d raised a good man. Lance could never take that away.

  “Hey, Mom, we’re gonna grab a bite on Sixth Street and then go back to the hotel and go swimming. You’re coming to dinner later?” he asked.