by Autumn Grey
Hours later, sleep still eludes me. My chest feels as if someone dug a hole, yanked my heart from my chest, and left it dangling. It’s beating, yes. But the pain that tears through me rips every bit of strength away from me, leaving me numb. I just want to sleep and forget today ever happened. I want to stop feeling. . .dead.
I sit up from the bed and stare at the moonless sky out the window. Thunder rolls in the distance, but the crippling fear that always follows that sound doesn’t set in. I stand up and shuffle robotically around the room and then sit back down.
I can’t do this. I need some sort of relief. My hand moves under my pillow, grabs the penknife and flips it open. I pull my dress up and hover the sharp point of the knife on my thigh. I close my eyes and I see Cole’s beautiful eyes bright with anger, his mother’s look of contempt and blame toward me, my dad’s triumphant expression. I press the tip into my skin and move my hand down. My heart beats faster, blood pumps loudly in my ears as the pain cuts through the numbness. I suck in a breath and open my eyes to look at my leg. Blood trickles down my thigh, soaking into my gown. I lift my hand off my thigh and fold the blade back. I tuck it under my pillow, pull my dress down and then lay back on the bed.
Finally, my body relaxes and sleep claims me, the sweet pain from the cut a lullaby to my shredded soul.
ACCORDING TO MY PARENTS, MR. Richard Barnett, is one of the best defense attorneys in Florida. I know the fees are high and that thought makes me feel even more miserable. They are very close to finishing paying the mortgage for our house, but this extra expense will prolong the process.
I’ve been in and out of this office for a week now. Stephen and my attorneys met and agreed to settle this case outside of court after advising us that if we went to court, it might take a long time until the date of trial. Plus it would end up costing us less if this was settled between the lawyers, avoiding court fees. I agreed wholeheartedly. I had already spent a week in jail and it was fucking hard. I couldn’t imagine waiting for months to get my case in court, while spending more time inside that hellhole. This is the second time my attorney is meeting with Stephen’s.
Stephen is sitting across the table from me, wearing a smirk and a victorious look on his face. My jaw tightens and I continue staring at him like I’ve been doing since we entered the room thirty minutes ago. I want to tell him how much I hate him, but I let my glare say it for me.
I pull my gaze away from the asshole and focus on the interpreter my parents hired for this case, just in time to see him sign, “Your client was not on duty and according to the witness, he attacked the defendant first.”
Loosening the tie around my neck, I close my eyes and wish this process would go faster. I don’t regret what I did. I only wish I would have done more damage than breaking his arm and nose. Testimonies from various witnesses on both sides have already been presented. I’m not even sure how Stephen knew about those two dickheads from the swimming pool incident, but he did and they testified, but according to my lawyer, having the lifeguard and Nor’s testimony helped a lot.
A touch on my shoulder prompts me to open my eyes and glance at Mr. Barnett. “Are you okay, Mr. Holloway? We could take a break if you want.”
I shake my head. I don’t need a fucking break, because it will only prolong this entire process. He nods once and settles back to continue the argument. I keep zoning out, letting my mind wander. At the end of the day, I’m certain of where I’m going. Stephen won’t let me walk away, given the malicious glint in his eyes.
“Three years and five thousand dollars in fines for assault and battery on a law enforcement officer. Don’t forget he caused damage.”
“One year. Your client started the fight.” Mr. Barnett replies. “He wasn’t on duty.”
“Two years and the fines. That’s our last offer.” Opposing counsel contends.
Looks are exchanged.
“Can I talk to my client?” Mr. Barnett asks.
Stephen’s lawyer nods. My cold gaze flickers to Nor’s dad, taking in that bitter look on his face. It hits me that he probably wanted a longer, harsher sentence.
I plant my fists on the polished table and lean forward. “You’ve taken me from her, but it’s only for a while. You won’t be able to stop us when this is over.” I straighten and follow my lawyer out of the conference room, my interpreter in tow.
“Two years and five thousand dollars in fines,” he says.
I don’t bother to look at the interpreter for translation.
“Do I have a choice?” I ask him. I lift my hand and jab a finger toward the conference room. “That motherfucker should be the one going to jail for everything he has put his family through. Jesus, where is the justice? I wasn’t the one who started the fight.”
“I know,” he says. “The evidence against you is indisputable. You barged into the privacy of his home and also caused physical injury. If there is anything untoward going on in that house, his daughter should press charges.” He rubs his forehead in frustration. “Shit. I hate cops. Look, this is the best offer we have on the table right now.”
I tug my hair back, pain smarting in my temples and a headache looking at the back of my head.
Fuck. More expenses.
I’ll ask my parents to remove the five thousand from my college fund. I’ll figure out how to compensate the loss later. I clench my fists tight, letting the pain wash through me. I’m exhausted. I don’t have any more energy to keep on fighting. “All right. Let’s take it.”
We return to the room and Mr. Barnett announces our decision. Nor’s dad scowls up at both lawyers and then at me. He stands up and storms out of the room. Two officers enter the room to escort me out of the room and out of the building. I lift my face toward the midday sunlight and cool breeze, soaking it in, because I have no idea when I will enjoy this again. In just a couple of weeks, I’ll be turning nineteen in prison. This wasn’t in my ten-year-plan and it fucking makes me sick.
Lowering my head, I feel the hate and anger for Stephen burn through my veins. Not only has he succeeded in thwarting my relationship with his daughter, he managed to destroy my life in the process.
I settle inside the police car and drop my gaze to my lap, blinking hard to force the tears back.
I swear he will pay for this, one way or another, but he will never break us.
I believe in us. I just hope that Nor does too. It’s the only thing that will make it bearable.
TWO MONTHS HAVE PASSED SINCE Cole was led out of my house in handcuffs. Two months of me drowning in guilt. He couldn’t hold up to my father. He had enough ammunition to put Cole behind bars.
Why didn’t I listen to Maggie? Maybe if I’d broken up with him like she’d asked me to, he wouldn’t have ended up in this predicament. The thought of my life without Cole is like a slash through my heart. There is no way I could have done it. Cole is the other part of me. The part that breathes air into me, the part that calms the demons that roam my mind.
Things are much clearer now. Even though the stars aren’t aligned for us yet and fate seems to be working against us, I’m not going to give up. The tide will change soon. Cole and I will be together and nothing will ever stand in our way again.
Today is the day I get to see him after sixty days of missing him. His mother promised to take me with her. Things have been tense between us so she was hesitant when I first asked her if she could take me with her to visit Cole. Eventually Cole wrote me a letter and told me that he had put my name on the visitors list.
Taking a deep breath, I open the little kit on my lap and pull out the antiseptic cream. I apply it on the deep scratches on my thighs. Today has been particularly bad and I couldn’t stop scratching my skin. I’m nervous and excited to see Cole in equal measures. Does he blame me for what happened?
I’ve been trying so hard not to cut again since the night Cole was arrested. I even spoke to my therapist a few times. It seemed to help but sometimes I’d feel so helpless. Sometimes I’m terrified of
my own thoughts, the little voice that urges me to find relief in a razor. I threw away the last one five days ago, but I can’t seem to stop itching. Looking for relief. Every day is a battle and sometimes I feel like I’m losing it. Losing my grip on reality. I need to find my balance again. I should be stronger than this.
I close the kit and walk to the dresser, burying it where it has been living for the past two months—under the mound of socks, and then head to my vanity and finishing applying the lipstick. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, despising the eyes looking back at me. I hate how weak I’ve become. I keep promising myself that I’ll get rid of the kit tomorrow. But the tomorrows come and go. I close my eyes and pray under my breath, because that is all I’m left with right now. I need strength.
“Cole’s mom is waiting for you outside,” Elon says quietly. I didn’t even hear her walk into my room.
I turn to face her and force a cheerful smile.
“You look beautiful,” my sister says, shuffling her feet toward me with a brown paper bag in her hands. She leans forward and reaches for something on the table behind me. When she straightens up, she’s holding a yellow flower in her hand. This is the one we bought months ago, when my sisters, Megs and I dragged Cole and Simon shopping. It feels like years ago, though.
Elon pins it carefully on my upheld hair then stands back to survey me.
“Perfect.” She digs a hand inside the paper bag and pulls out something wrapped in red gift paper. “Could you please give this to him? It’s just a pair of wool socks I made for him. Just tell him they will keep him warm.” She places the small package in my outstretched palm. I’m completely overwhelmed because Elon, this girl who keeps everything locked up in her chest, is opening up. She is gifting Cole something she made with her own hands. This is a huge step for her. I knew she liked Cole, but up to this point, I never realized how much. Closing the distance between us, I pull her into a hug, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. I lean back after that to thank her, only to realize she’s wiping her eyes too.
“He is not allowed to keep them.” I know this, Maggie told me the inmates weren’t allowed to have personal stuff.
Disappointment flashes across her face. Nevertheless, she lifts her chin. “Cole is a good guy. He was just caught in a bad moment,” she says. She is so wise for her age. We hardly ever talk about my dad, especially after that night when everything went to hell.
I nod and smile through the tears. “I’ll be sure to let him know. Oh gosh, look at us. We should be happy and smiling, right? It’s the first time I’m going to see him after weeks of worry.”
I link my fingers with hers as we walk out of my room and downstairs. Maggie is chatting with Elise and Josh next to her car. She turns at the sound of our voices.
Josh can’t come with us today because he has a doctor’s appointment for a blood check. The last time he and I chatted, he told me that his parents were going through a bad time in their marriage after Cole’s arrest. His father moved out and is now staying at a hotel in town.
I squirm on the passenger seat and glance out the window. The tension is so thick it’s hard to breathe. I have no idea how to diffuse it. I turn to look at her, noticing the dark circles under her eyes.
“Maggie. . .I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for everything. I—”
Her lips form a thin line and she looks away from me, but not before I see the anger fill her features. “It’s already done now. Let’s focus on today, all right?”
I nod and turn to watch the trees pass by outside of my window.
Seeing Cole limping inside the visiting room is like a slap across my face. His usual wild hair is gone, replaced by a buzz cut. Despite his attempt to cover the pain, I can see him favoring the right side of his body.
He lifts his head and scans the room filled with inmates and their families. His search ends when his eyes land on us. I gasp and his gaze flickers to mine, then holds it. His mouth starts to widen in a smile and I feel all this fluttering in my stomach at the sight of his handsome face. His eyes. . .Jesus. They look more deep set than before, darker than before and even a touch cold as if he has seen a lot of things not worthy of mentioning in the past two months. And now those eyes are leveled on me with such intensity I’m wondering how I’m even sitting on the chair.
I wait until he reaches the spot where his mom and I are sitting before I stand up and give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. I quickly pull back, afraid of doing anything that might be considered inappropriate according to the prison rules. After Maggie embraces him too, we settle on the chairs, the table separating us. I fold my hands on my lap to keep from reaching out and linking our fingers. I can’t believe we are sitting in the same room. He is so close, yet so far.
There is so much I want to tell him, but I can’t. Not in front of his mom.
Cole grimaces as he subtly adjusts his weight to lean more on the left side of his body.
“What’s wrong?” Maggie and I ask at the same time.
He shakes his head a little too fast and signs, “Nothing.”
No, no, no. This cannot be happening. “Are you hurt, Cole?” I ask, my voice unsteady.
His face turns angry. “Don’t do this, okay?”
“Did something happen? You are hurt, aren’t you?”
“Cole—” Maggie starts but Cole stops her with a glare.
“Let this be,” he insists.
He glares at me for a few moments. “I thought you guys came here to visit and not for doctoral duties.” he signs scowling.
I keep my unyielding gaze on him.
“Who did this to you?” Maggie asks.
He shrugs. “Just some guys who thought they’d introduce me to the system of how things work around here. How’s everyone doing?” he asks.
Maggie goes ahead to give him updates of what is happening, but my thoughts are spinning in circles. My eyes can’t get enough of him. She pauses and darts a glance my way, but ends up telling him about his dad moving away from home.
It’s painful watching Cole’s face fill with sadness.
His mom excuses herself to go to the bathrooms.
I swallow around the lump in my throat, unfold my hands from my lap and place them flat on the table.
“What happened, Cole?” I ask, as a tear rolls down my cheek.
He rubs his forehead, and when he meets my gaze again, his eyes look tired, tortured. He moves his hand inch by inch in my direction. I meet him halfway, glancing around to make sure we are not being watched. He quickly brushes the tip on his index finger on my pinkie finger twice before pulling back.
“It’s nothing. I promise.” He bites his bottom lip, studying me. “You have lost a lot of weight, Snowflake. This is not your fault. I knew what I was doing when I raised my fist to punch him. I would do it all over again, if it meant keeping you safe, Nor. I did this and not you.”
I shake my head. “I should have known he would never stop until he destroyed us. You. Sometimes I wonder if I have that trait in me. I don’t ever want to hurt you, Cole. I would rather lose you than turn out to be like him. His obsession is a sickness.”
He leans forward, his eyes flashing with anger. “Don’t talk like that, Eleanor Blake. You are nothing like your father. You will never lose me. Your father is a sick bastard. You are not him, do you hear me?” He lifts his hands and signs, “I love you so much.”
“And I love you so much.”
“Miss Eleanor?” A deep voice says, pulling me away from Cole and his wound.
Startled, I look over my shoulder to find Mr. Taylor, walking toward us. He smiles wide, stretching his hand in greeting. “I thought it was you.”
I climb to my feet, surprised to see him here. I extend my hand to him and smile. “Mr. Taylor. How have you been? How’s your mom doing?”
He shakes my hand, then steps back, his gaze switching over to Cole and I swear his gaze softens slightly.
“My mother’s not doing so bad. Did you
stop working at the center?”
I nod. “School has taken up most of my time. But I’ll come back in summer.” I pause, looking around the room. “Are you here for a visit?”
He shakes his head. “I work here. I’m the warden of this facility.” He looks at Cole and offers his hand in a handshake.
“You remember Cole. You two met when we dropped by at Grandma’s house a few months ago.”
“I remember him. Your grandmother speaks very highly of him.” He turns to Cole. “I heard about what happened. The people in here are messed up sons of bitches. Lie low and keep your head down, son.” He purses his lips, opens his mouth to say something but stops and directs his gaze at me.
“It was great to see you, Miss Eleanor.” He shakes our hands before leaving.
Maggie returns and we continue chatting. I can’t shake off the fear swimming in my belly.
Our visiting time comes to a close and we say goodbye.
I turn around to leave, my heart heavy and feeling sick to my stomach. Cole calls my name. I stop and turn around to face him.
“I need you to do me a favor, Nor,” he says, his gaze intense to the point of feverish.
“Anything.”
“Don’t come back. Please.”
I feel as if someone ripped my heart through my chest. “What?”
He braces a hand on the table as if he’s about to collapse and tears brim in his eyes. “I don’t want you to come back.”
Sweat beads my forehead and I’m getting a little lightheaded. “Cole, don’t ask me to do that. God, please don’t do this,” I beg him as tears start to burn my eyes. I blink back furiously. “No. You don’t get to tell me not to visit you.” I declare stubbornly.
He’s wearing this tortured look on his face now, as if whatever he’s about to say will cost him his life and his hands are balled into fists at his sides. Veins pop up along his arm. “Nor. I’ll request your name to be removed from the visitor’s list.”