Drowning: An Angsty Standalone

by Marni Mann

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

  “Sorry, man.” He closes his eyes while he chugs from his bottle of beer.

  At least one of us has a vice that works. There’s nothing in this apartment that could calm me besides the movement of that goddamn green dot.

  “Something will happen. You just have to stay calm.”

  “Calm?” My hands grip the back of the chair, and I lift the legs off the carpet. If I don’t put it down, the chair will be going through a wall or across his desk or into the window behind me. I let it drop and shove my hands into my pocket. “Fuck calm.”

  He quickly stands up, his face only a few feet from mine. “Listen, buddy, I know you’re pissed, and I know you want her back, but you’re going to keep it calm while you’re in here. Got it?”

  I don’t mean to raise my voice or slam his chair or act like such a dick. None of this is Russell’s fault. He’s only trying to help, and it’s clear he knows how urgent this is. Without him, I’d be even more screwed.

  “Shit, Russell, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s cool. I get it.” He pats my shoulder. “I want to find Andi, too. I obviously don’t know her that well, but she seems like a good girl, and she doesn’t deserve this.”

  She doesn’t deserve this. No one does. Especially not someone who has already put up with so much abuse.

  I’m sure the abuse hasn’t stopped now that he has her.

  She’s probably tied up. Gagged. I bet his hands are running all over her in that skimpy bikini she has on.

  I can picture her face. Tears streaming down both cheeks. Trembling violently, silently begging for me to find her.

  But I can’t.

  I’m in Russell’s command center, and not one sign is showing on any of the monitors even though I know he’s moving.

  When I find that bastard—and I will—I’m going to hurt him. I’ll make sure he can never take her anywhere again. Not by cutting off his feet. But by ending that motherfucker’s life.

  I finally take a seat in the chair that I almost threw, knowing it will be my home until the dot moves. “So, now, we just wait?”

  “That’s all we can do,” he says.

  Russell orders a pizza; I don’t eat any. He gives me a beer, and I slowly sip from the bottle, hating the way it makes my mouth taste. Nothing feels right with Andi gone. Nothing can feel right when I know she’s in pain. Physical, emotional—they both hurt the same.

  I nag Russell for hours to come up with an alternative plan. Waiting for Brooks to turn on his phone could send Andi to her grave before we even have a chance to save her. I can’t let that happen. We need to move. Now. But every time I bring it up, Russell tells me there’s no other option. We have to wait.

  I’m not good at waiting.

  So, while Russell dozes off on the couch inside his office, I find Andi’s burner phone and pull up a text screen. I figure it’s time to reach out to Camille. I know there isn’t anything she can do, but I want her to know what’s going on.

  Me: I’m going to call you from an unknown number. Answer it.

  It’s past eleven already. I don’t know what time Camille went to bed, but I don’t expect her to reply right away or even until the morning. Her text comes within seconds.

  Camille: Okay.

  Earlier in the evening, Russell told me I could use his phone if I needed to make any calls since his line couldn’t be traced. I use it to call Camille. I don’t know if Brooks has tapped Camille’s phone or how he found us, but I want to make sure he won’t be able to trace things from my end.

  “It’s Clay,” I say as she answers.

  “Clay? I was expecting to hear Andi’s voice. Is everything all right?” She sounds groggy.

  I definitely woke her up.

  I walk into the other room, so I won’t wake Russell, too, and shut the office door behind me. “He found us, Camille.”

  “What? How? Where’s Andi?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” The grogginess is gone, and in its place is panic.

  I tell her everything that happened at the beach and how I’m trying to find Andi. I don’t say too much in case Brooks is listening from her end. But I make sure she knows I won’t give up until Andi is back in my hands. That part won’t be a surprise to Brooks, as I’m sure he expects that from me.

  “What can I do?” she asks.

  “Nothing. Just hang tight. I’ll let you know when I find her.”

  “Are you sure I can’t help? Because I honestly don’t know how I’m supposed to just sit here and do nothing while my best friend is out there, getting…” Her voice trails off.

  I’m glad it does. I don’t want to hear, in her words, what’s happening to her best friend. I have enough thoughts and visions of my own. Having Camille add to them will only make me feel worse.

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” I say. “I’ll text you when I know something.”

  “Okay.”

  I don’t hang up. Neither does she.

  Camille’s my only connection to Andi, the only person who knows her better than me. Being on the phone with her makes me feel closer to Andi even though I’m not.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally say.

  “For what?”

  “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let her leave my side. I should have taken her back to the blanket, so we could get our shit and go home. But I got sloppy and careless. I took my eyes off her, and that fucker snatched her away from me.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “When we were in the hospital, I promised you that I would protect her.” I start pacing again, moving between the bathroom and the kitchen and back. My steps get faster after each pass. “I told you I would risk my life, making sure he never found her. I told you he would never hurt her again. I told you, you could trust me.”

  “And I still do.”

  “But I didn’t keep any of my promises, Camille. I wronged you. And I wronged Andi. I let both of you down, and now—”

  “And, now, you’re going to find her.” She sounds so convinced, so sure of herself, as though her trust in me truly hasn’t wavered one bit.

  But what if I can’t find her?

  Those words hang on my lips. Unspoken. But I feel them. I believe them.

  If Brooks doesn’t turn on his phone, I won’t ever find her. That gives him the control to do anything he wants to her. And the second she doesn’t comply, he will end it all.

  End her.

  The only way we’ll find out will be when Andi’s name and description appear on Russell’s right monitor under the police log.

  Goddamn it.

  “I’m sorry, Camille. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “I’m not accepting your apology because I don’t believe for one second that this is your fault. The promises you made were impossible to keep. Andi and I both knew that. We knew he would eventually find her, and there would be nothing you could do to stop him.”

  That was why Andi was always looking over her shoulder. Why I could only get her out of her head for short periods of time. Why she appeared even more tired as each day passed, denying she had been awake half the night when I knew she was.

  “I wanted to,” I say. “Shit, I wanted to.”

  Andi knew all along that Brooks was coming for her.

  And, in my mind, I believed that was impossible.

  “Do you know what you have done?” she asks. “You’ve shown her what happiness looks like, and you’ve made her feel it for the first time in a very long time.”

  I take a seat on Russell’s living room couch and close my eyes.

  Happiness.

  I can smell her buttercream skin and the softness of her hair rubbing against me. I feel her smile as it moves across my mouth. That laugh that I want to eat, it’s so genuine. She’s so fucking happy when she’s with me.

  And so am I.

  “But the thing I’m most grateful for,” she says, “is the way you love her. She’s never felt love
before, and she feels it with you, Clay.”

  I feel it, too.

  Now, I don’t know if I’ll ever get that love back.

  I look down at my hand that’s resting over my knee. My fingers clench so tightly, my knuckles ache. I just want to hold her. I want to press my lips near her ear and whisper how much I care about her. I want to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and feel her body relax.

  But, when I unclench my hand and go to grab her, all I fist is a handful of air.

  She’s gone.

  There’s a chance she’s never coming back.

  If she doesn’t, I’ll have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life.

  “I’ll talk to you later, Camille.”

  I can’t say soon. There’s a good chance that would turn into another lie.

  I end the call and quietly walk back into Russell’s office. The smell of cold pizza fills the air, and Russell’s snores sound throughout the room. I take a seat in his chair, staring at the monitors, begging the green dot to move.

  Waiting.

  Waiting.

  I’ll wait forever.

  “Clay, wake up,” Russell says.

  I jump from the sound of his voice, my chin falling from my palm, which I’ve been using as a pillow. I don’t remember falling asleep or the moment my eyes got heavy. The only thing I remember is staring at the green dot.

  “Brooks turned on his phone, and he’s talking on it,” he says.

  “What? When?” I blink several times, staring at the monitor until it comes into focus.

  The dot has fucking moved.

  This is my chance to get her back. To free her from that abusive piece of shit.

  To hold what’s mine once again.

  “Just now,” he says, “but you need to stand up, so I can get to work.”

  I move out of the way, so Russell can sit in front of the monitors. As soon as he sits down, his hands fly over the keyboard, and a map quickly appears behind the green dot. With each second that passes, the map zooms in a little more.

  “I just need about eighteen more seconds, and I’ll have his exact location.”

  Stay on the phone, I repeat over and over in my head.

  “I thought he’d leave the state, but it looks like he didn’t get very far,” he says.

  The map shows the southern part of Florida, and then it breaks down to the different towns along the east coast before finally stopping over the city of Sunrise.

  That’s less than an hour from here.

  “Got it.” He takes a screenshot of the address, and he drags it over to the right monitor where a picture of a building pops up. “It’s a motel about fifty minutes from here.”

  “Let’s go.”

  He turns around to face me. “Do you have a plan?”

  “Fuck no, but I’m not letting Andi stay with him for another second. We’re going to get her right now.”

  He follows me out of his office and into his garage. “You’re just going to barge into his hotel room and take her?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Adrian, stop.”

  With the passenger door open, I look across the car at him. “What?”

  “Don’t you think we should call the police?”

  “There’s a warrant out for my arrest, Russell, so, no, I don’t think we should call the police. I don’t need their help anyway. I can take care of this myself.”

  He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even open his car door.

  “If you don’t want to help, you don’t have to. But will you at least give me a ride to the motel?”

  “I want to help, but charging into his motel room isn’t the right plan of attack. Doing that will get us all killed. I have a feeling Brooks is prepared for something like that. That’s why we need to come up with something solid.”

  We both get into the car and shut our doors, and then he backs out of the garage.

  “Do you have a plan in mind?” I ask.

  “I want to see the place first. Then, we’ll come up with something.”

  Andi

  The bed dips beside me, and Brooks sits down. Since he let go of me, he hasn’t tried to touch me again. Either he thinks he squeezed my neck too tightly and I passed out or he’s changed his mind about what to do with me.

  He won’t kill you, Andi. Not without a reason.

  Seconds later, his ringtone fills the small motel room. He waits a few seconds, debating whether I’ll be quiet enough while he answers. Before the call goes to voice mail, he rises and hurries into the bathroom. Once the door closes, I lift my head and look around the room.

  There’s nothing blocking the door. Other than the deadbolt, the only thing standing between me and the outside world is myself. Brooks wasn’t expecting that phone call. He didn’t plan on letting me out of his sight.

  His mistake is a gift, one I could never refuse. Wearing nothing but a red bikini and an oversize T-shirt, I hit the worn and stained carpet in my bare feet, my hands shaking as I turn the lock and open the door.

  Could it really be this easy?

  For a second, I hesitate, wondering if someone is outside, watching the room. Someone who would see me and bring me right back inside. But Brooks couldn’t be working with anyone else. If he were, he wouldn’t have been the one to pluck me out of the sand. He wouldn’t have risked being seen if he had someone else willing to take the fall.

  My heart beats faster as I take the first step onto the concrete. Even though I’m so used to running from the darkness, it’s hard for me to trust it tonight. But, when I stop fearing it long enough to move, it becomes easier to trust my instincts.

  Tonight, the dark sky holds promises, and I intend to cash in on every single one of them. If I make it out of here alive, I can find my way back to Adrian.

  Before the bathroom door opens, I run. Faster than I’ve ever run before, my bare feet pound across the uneven parking lot. I don’t register each stone and every disgusting piece of garbage I trample. All I care about is figuring out which direction will lead me to Miami.

  Without a clue to which is the better option, I close my eyes and let my legs pull me in fate’s direction. If I get it wrong, I’ll end up even farther from Adrian. But, if I get it right, I’ll feel his lips and be back in his arms by morning.

  Following the yellow divider line that splits the road down the middle, I keep my eyes trained on what’s ahead. Right now, it’s nothing but darkness. No convenience stores. No gas stations. Nothing.

  Mile after mile, I pray for headlights. I pray for a light so blinding, the passengers of the car would have no choice but to acknowledge the half-naked girl walking down the middle of the road.

  But nothing comes, and nobody sees me.

  With aching feet, I step on shards of broken glass. My gut reaction is to slow down as soon as the first piece pierces the skin. But I can’t. Instead of wincing at the pain, I try to keep moving through it. It would be easy to give up now, but slowing down means it’s over.

  Sooner or later, Brooks will come looking for me. If he hasn’t already noticed I’m gone, he will. And, when he sees me walking along this road, he’ll know whom I’m trying to get back to, whom I’d rather be with. And he won’t accept my decision, let alone respect it. He’ll retaliate.

  I keep walking. Minutes feel like hours again, like when I was stuck in the back of the van. My mouth is so dry, my body so exhausted and dehydrated, I’d do anything for another bottle of cold water.

  Keep going, Andi.

  The next step I take proves to be too much. Losing my balance, I fall onto my hands and knees, begging my body not to give up on me when I still have so far to go.

  Crawling to the side of the road, I use the bottom of my shirt to wipe the blood from my knees. The little cuts nestled in the cracks of my skin burn even more now that I’ve touched them, but they’re nothing compared to the pain shooting through the soles of my feet.

  Tucked away in the weeds beside the road, I take a minute to catc
h my breath. My head throbs, so I lie on my back and stare at the sky. Surrounded by so many stars, it’s like having everyone I love watching over me. Like they’re capable of showing me the way, I let them hold my hand and guide me.

  “Andi, look at me.”

  My body shakes, but it’s not from fear. The weeds aren’t making my skin itch anymore. The humid air has disappeared, replaced by the stale and musty air inside the motel room.

  “No,” I whisper as I try to sit up.

  When I can’t move beyond the bed, I realize freedom was never mine. Collapsing onto the blankets, I cry because it was all a dream. I was never walking down the deserted road. I never got to feel the wind in my face.

  All I’ll ever have is Brooks. He’ll continue to destroy me. And I’ll let him.

  “Stop crying, Andi,” he says with a coldness I’ve gotten used to. He’s back to being unforgiving—the man who stole me when I was content.

  I try as hard as I can to stop the tears from flowing because, if I don’t get myself under control, he’ll hit me to make it stop.

  I’m so desperate for the back-and-forth struggle to end that I reach for Brooks’s hand and thread my fingers through his. I’m not thinking about all he’s done wrong. All I’m thinking about is how good he used to make me feel. In my moment of weakness, I honestly believe I can get that back.

  He was mine.

  I was his.

  We were happy.

  When he sees all the fight drain out of me, his eyes soften. He’s pulling me closer, like I wanted him to, and holding me like I matter.

  “Are you ready to go home?” he asks. “I’ve missed you so much, Andi.”

  “Yes,” I tell him. And, I mean it.

  I miss Camille. I miss Charlie. And I would rather go home than continue to hide. All hiding does is remind me of a world I can never have. One that was taken from me the second I let Brooks into my life.

  I’m done looking over my shoulder, done pretending I ever stood a chance on my own.

  Brooks is so relieved I’ve finally given up, he cradles my face in his hands. He’s so gentle I’d never know the same hands have caused so much destruction. Leaning into his touch, I let myself remember who he is when he’s not overcome by jealousy and insecurities.