Pull

by Claire Wallis

  After we clean up, I tell Emma I’ll take a quick shower and then we can watch a movie or take a walk or do whatever she wants. On my way back to the bathroom she grabs my arm and gives me a peck on the cheek.

  “Can I ask you something?” she says with a touch of trepidation in her voice.

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “When did you know you loved me?”

  I can’t help but smile at her question. I take a deep breath and tell her the truth.

  “I’ve loved you since the night you opened that package from Michael, the one with your father’s cut-up dog tags. When you told me all the things he’d done to you, it made me realize how much I truly want to protect you. That’s when I knew I loved you. That’s when I knew you were different.”

  “Huh.” She shrugs. “That’s funny. Because that happens to be the very same night I agreed to be protected.”

  “Well, how ’bout that?” I tease, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Sure is.”

  I feel serious again, and after a pause, I say exactly what’s on my mind. “None of this is going to be easy, you know.”

  “Nothing good ever is.” She reaches up onto her toes and kisses me lightly on the lips. She looks up at me with a soft, sweet smile, and I know she can see the worry in my eyes. How could she not? “Now go take your shower.”

  As I walk back to the bathroom, the picture of the grown-up me in my head becomes a little bit brighter.

  Chapter 14

  Matt—Present Day

  It’s Saturday afternoon, and there are surprisingly few people here. It’s just me and four other guys. I’m standing in the third aisle from the left, looking at issue #4 of Uncanny Avengers. It’s the one after Xavier’s funeral. The one where the X-Men battle Red Skull. It’s not the greatest issue, for sure, but the epilogue was an amazing surprise.

  I flip through the pages, and Rogue is there, in all her swelteringly sexy, mutant glory. It’s the green suit, with the belt slung down over one hip, that gets me every time. Well, that and the white streaks in her hair. Not to mention her powers. How cool would it be to be able to absorb other people’s memories with just a touch? To take on their personalities and physical abilities? And having Carol Danvers take over when your own mind is rendered useless would be pretty excellent, too. If I were a comic-book chick, I’d definitely want to be her.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and faint guitar music rings through the denim. I look up at the other customers and pull the phone out of my jeans, making my way toward the exit as I look at the screen.

  It’s Emma.

  “Hey, Emma,” I say into the phone, just as the door closes behind me.

  “Hi, Matt. Sorry to bother you on a Saturday.”

  “No problem. What’s up?”

  “I only have a minute to talk ’cause David’s in the shower, but I wanted to say thank you and I couldn’t really do it at the office. What you did for us, for me, was pretty incredible, and I want you to know that I appreciate it.” Her voice is genuine and sincere, but I can’t help but feel awkward talking to her about this. Especially when David asked me not to.

  “I had no idea about all the stuff you were dealing with, but it sounds like everything’s okay now, right?”

  “As okay as it can be when it comes to my family.”

  She’s the one who brought it up. And I’m curious as hell.

  “Your brother sounds like an interesting guy.”

  “My brother’s an asshole. He’s been tormenting me for a long time; ever since my stepfather came into our lives, really. They both always got some kind of rise out of being cruel, and now that my stepfather is gone, apparently Ricky decided to step up his game. If David hadn’t done what he did, Ricky would’ve just kept coming back for more. He’s dangerous and unpredictable, to say the least.” Emma doesn’t seem weak or threatened by much in her life, but the tone in her voice tells me she means every word. It’s clear she’s only sharing the essentials, and that’s okay. I’m not sure I need to hear any more.

  “It sounds like David did the best he could to protect you. I hope it’s over.”

  “Me too. And thanks again. For everything.”

  “You bet. I guess I’ll see you on Monday morning, then.”

  “Yep. Have a good weekend.”

  “You, too.”

  We hang up, and I stare at the phone for a second or two, thinking about the fucked-up life Emma must have had. How is she not more dysfunctional? Even though neither one of them shared many details, I can guess what kind of stuff she must have had to deal with from her stepfather and brothers. All of it makes me feel like my strict-as-sin mother and father weren’t so bad after all. It makes me feel lucky. But it also makes me feel sad for Emma. I pity her for having to spend most of her life battling her own family. I’m proud of my friend for saving her from all that. For giving her a chance at a normal life by risking everything he has, including his own life. And I’m proud of myself for having some small part of it all.

  David’s no saint, but he’s a good guy, and he and Emma deserve to be happy.

  I put my phone in my pocket and open the door to go back into Crazy Dog Comics. I’ve got a pull list as long as my arm. I need to check if they have Invincible #17.

  Chapter 15

  After Kelsey

  I’m crouched down on Clawsen’s Bridge, looking at the ripples in the water. Kelsey’s ripples. I feel the weight of God’s judgment lift off of me, as if someone has asked Him to forgive me for doing this horrible thing. As if Kelsey prayed for me, and God heard her. As if—as she was falling—she told Him that I deserve to be forgiven. That He should exonerate me because of my life. Because this was not how things were supposed to be. Because He made my life harder than anyone deserves. I feel, for once, like He might have actually listened.

  I move my right hand over to my pocket. As I stand, I feel the Leatherman I have inside it. I know I could jump into the water, swim down to her, and cut the ropes binding her hands and feet. I know that I could save her. If I actually wanted to. But I don’t. Not anymore.

  My original intent was not to let her die. When I called her and asked her to meet me here, when I bought the rope and the sandbags at Mason’s Hardware, and when I slid the Leatherman into my pocket, I was going to save her. I was going to do exactly what I told her I would. I was going to jump in and cut her free. I really was. I was going to let her show me how much she loves me, then I was going to rescue her. I swear it. The whole thing was meant to make everything right. It was going to make me feel better about Sarah. It was going to fix what I did to her. And it was going to compensate the world for my inability to save my own mother.

  But intent does not always equal fruition.

  Objectives change. Intentions morph. Plans alter. And never so much as when pleasure is involved. Deep, twisted, heart-pumping pleasure. And the surge of pleasure that comes from having complete control over another human being is the purest, most exhilarating kind of happiness I have ever experienced. It was even more intense than the day I pushed Sarah. A thousand times more intense. Hell, a million times. It was like everything came rushing at me. Desire. Adrenaline. Purpose. Power. It was like some kind of blissful earthquake littered my brain and filled my soul with the most profound and primitive kind of satisfaction. And it changed everything. Pleasure changed everything.

  I understand now how pleasure can make a human being do things they never thought they would. How it can take over your brain and make you forget about everything that really matters. How it can shut your eyes and your ears to the rest of the world and make you oblivious to everything but yourself. Pleasure can make you forget about potential punishments and ramifications and all the aftershocks associated with doing something that might be so wrong it makes your head spin. Pleasure is the one emotion that crushes all the rest. And this kind, the kind that comes from control, has to be the best pleasure there is. I k
now it now. And I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to forget.

  But, despite the jolt of pleasure still vibrating through my body, I’m going to have to come back down to Earth in a hurry. I’m going to have to think quick because I have to make Kelsey disappear. I walk away from the bridge knowing what I need to do. I have to go to Elizabeth, my dad’s secretary. I told her three days ago that Kelsey was pregnant. Which, of course, she wasn’t. You have to have sex with someone before that can happen and Lord knows Kelsey wasn’t having sex, not with me or anyone else for that matter. I mean, Christ, what nineteen-year-old is with the same partner for an entire year and doesn’t do anything more than kiss?

  I never told Kelsey I loved her because I didn’t. In fact, I did nothing but resent her for the past six months. I resented her holier-than-thou attitude, her self-serving chastity, her self-righteous and publically declared desire to rescue-the-bad-boy-from-all-his-demons, and the fact that she always put her family above me. If I ever dumped her, I’d never hear the end of it from my father. He’d tell me what a big fucking mistake I’d made, he’d call me a jackass and tell me what a huge loser I am. He’d berate me for giving up the only good thing I’d ever have. And then he’d tell me he always knew it wouldn’t last. He’d tell me he always knew she was too good for me. So I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t break up with her.

  But there was no way she was going to break up with me, either. She wanted to save me, after all, and breaking up with me would be against “God’s work.” She was the only person who knew how damaged I am. She knew about my father and his alcoholism. She knew about my mother’s death. She once told me she’d never leave me because she knew her love could save me from all that negativity. What a bunch of sanctimonious bullshit.

  But I figured if I ruined her reputation, if I made this whole fucking town see her differently, she’d call it quits and break up with me. And if she didn’t do it by choice, her parents would make her do it. And so, I came up with the pregnancy rumor. I knew what a gossip Elizabeth is, and I knew that if I told her first, and if I poured it on thick, half the town would know about Kelsey’s pretend pregnancy a week later.

  And so, that’s it. That’s how I’m going to make Kelsey disappear. The only person who knew she wasn’t really pregnant is at the bottom of the river.

  I walk to Elizabeth’s front door with a smirk on my face, feeling the ethereal after-effects of Kelsey’s fall. Contentment. Satisfaction. Control.

  Pleasure.

  Plus there’s the fact that God already forgives me.

  Chapter 16

  David—Present Day

  After my shower, Emma and I hunker down on her couch and watch two movies, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and Skyfall. She’s splayed out on top of me with her head resting against my chest. She seems happy and content, which is precisely how I feel. I look down at her and brush the hair off of her face. She looks like a little kid. Her cheeks are arched up into her eyes, and her skin is bright and clear. I’m one hell of a lucky guy. Far luckier than I deserve.

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  By the time Sunday evening arrives, Emma and I have effectively exhausted her Netflix queue. We’ve also gone to the grocery store, the dry cleaners, and Target. At five o’clock, we decide to take a long walk to the wine-and-spirits store down on Harborough. Emma wants a bottle of red for the pasta she plans to make for dinner.

  From a block away, I spot Nikki leaning against the front of the building. Shit. She’s sucking on a cigarette and wearing a skirt shorter than a monkey’s attention span. One stilettoed foot is propped behind her on the wall and the other is on the pavement, a timeless posture that screams cheap hooker. What’s she doing here on a Sunday? She must be desperate. Nikki hustles outside the store. And she’s an acquaintance of mine. Not because I’ve ever let her touch me, but because I’ve given her cheeseburgers and fifths of vodka more times than I can count. And she’s my link to Ray.

  Nikki’s eyes open wide when she sees me walking toward the store with Emma. A pulse of anxiety pushes through me when I realize I haven’t seen her since Emma’s brother Ricky was here to collect his goddamned blackmail money. She’d better keep her fucking mouth shut about what happened, because if she so much as mentions his name, Emma’s going to lose her shit.

  When we get there, Nikki asks me where I’ve been and if she’s been replaced by “some homely little redhead.” She’s junked up on something again. Not that it’s an excuse.

  I look over at Emma and see her face flush pink. The veins in her neck shine through her skin, and I think for a second that she’s going to either curse at Nikki or punch her into oblivion. But she does neither. She just looks over at me with a smile so fake it nearly makes me laugh. I don’t though, because then I’d be the one getting punched into oblivion. Instead, I decide I’d better switch to offense.

  “Now, Nikki, be nice.” I slide my arm around Emma’s waist. “This is my girl. Don’t fuck with her, man, ’cause I’m telling you, she’ll take you down.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Emma take her eyes off of me and plant them on Nikki’s face. She isn’t smiling anymore.

  “Shit,” Nikki says slowly, her body swaying with drunken arrogance. “Ain’t nobody gonna take me down, sweetheart. If Ray-Ray can’t do it, no little ginger gonna be able to.” She looks over at Emma, and when their eyes meet, I see Nikki’s fucked-up meth teeth mold into a smile. Emma smiles a fake smile right back at her, and all her muscles tighten.

  After a second-long stare-down, Nikki turns to me. “You bring me somethin’ today, love? You got some McD’s for me? You owe me, you know. After what happened the last time.” Keep your mouth shut, Nikki. Don’t say it.

  “Not today.”

  “Shit, man. See? She already takin’ you away from me, cookie. I’ll tell you what, you bring a little bit o’ hooch out the store for me, I’ll hook you up with somethin’ from Ray-Ray. You want somma those A-bombs again? They fucked you up real good. Remember them, sugar? They make it allllllll better.” The smile on Nikki’s face is part she-devil and part road kill.

  In a strange way, Nikki is something to be appreciated. Everything about her is both elaborate and heinous in equal measure. But Emma must not feel the same appreciation for Nikki’s appearance, or her words, because her entire body pulls away from me, and she walks over toward the store’s entrance in a hurry.

  “Come on, baby, you want me to get you some more?” Nikki adds, just as Emma’s hand hits the door handle.

  “No. No, I do not,” I say loudly as I turn to follow Emma.

  “Aww, come on, sweetie. I just wanna make sure you don’t forget about me, that’s all. Bring out somethin’ for your sugar, will ya? Then we’ll call it even,” she shouts as the door closes behind me.

  Emma is twenty paces ahead of me, and the stiffness in her walk tells me I’m lucky she kept her hands to herself. She’s on fire.

  I catch up to her as she stands in the middle of the store, looking at a bottle of Merlot.

  “Christ. I’m sorry.” I shrug my shoulders and raise my palms.

  “For what?” she bites, her eyes pretending to examine the row of bottles as she puts the one in her hands back on the shelf.

  “For that whole conversation. Nikki’s clearly rocked out of her mind.”

  Emma turns to me and stares me down.

  “I’m not a fucking moron.” Her voice is sharp but quiet. “Obviously, Nikki and you know each other well.” Emma’s hands move to her hips, and her head tilts to the side.

  “Did you fuck her?” she spits. “Am I going to regret not having you tested for fucking diseases and shit? I swear, if you give me some goddamn cootie-funk you got from that whore, I’ll put you in the hospital.” I can see the energy searing through her body. Her fuse is lit, and she’s not about to step down. It excites me to see her this way, and my skin prickles with eagerness. A streak of exhilaration runs through me, and I have to stifle a
smile.

  “Come on, Emma. Are you fucking kidding me? Do you honestly think I would stick anything into that?” I say as I point my finger sharply toward the front door. “And I don’t have cootie-funk. From anyone.” I put up three fingers in a pledge and add, “Scout’s honor.”

  She lowers her face into her hands and rubs at her skin. When she looks back up a minute later, she takes a deep breath. Her skin is glowing.

  “Then what was that about? And who the hell is Ray-Ray?” She’s bitter. Really, really bitter.

  “Ray is her pimp,” I say, as quietly as I can. The liquor-store man is watching us from his post at the checkout counter. I guess he’s making sure we don’t stuff any bottles down our pants.

  “And your dealer?” The accusatory tone in her voice makes another lump of exhilaration rise up into my throat.

  “And my dealer.” I fold my head forward and cross my arms over my chest. I’m not sure why she’s so upset about this. I mean, she had to know that I have a dealer. Had a dealer. She knows about all the crazy shit I did after Lucia. My so-called ape-shit phase was front-page news a few weeks ago, thanks to my friend Saz and his big fucking mouth.

  “But I haven’t had a hit from him for a long time,” I add, trying to fill my voice with appeasement, even though her fired-up temper has me completely aroused. “Actually, not since the night you came to my apartment in those blue panties and sat on my lap.”

  She’s looking at me with her head twisted to the side and her lips pursed into a pucker. Like I’m a goddamned eleven-year-old who just got busted for having a joint in his underwear drawer.

  “I haven’t done any of that stuff since I met you. I swear it,” I say eventually, just to break the uncomfortable silence ringing through the liquor store. “I haven’t needed to. Because I have you.”