by BT Urruela
For three weeks, I didn’t hear back from Xander. I sent him letters and even went as far as including my number in one of them, which I said I would never do. Still nothing.
But today I finally received a phone call from him and found out what happened. His voice, gravelly and weak, absolutely killed me. For the first time, I wish I could just get him out of there. For the first time, and for reasons I can’t comprehend, I believe he’s telling the truth.
This evening, I’ll have the chance to finally see him, but first, I have business to carry out. I’ve been tracking Benji and Russ for a few days now. I know where they live, and I’ve seen a few of the people they’ve done business with, but no sign of Cody. I don’t imagine he’d stay anywhere around here, but if there’s a chance…
This neighborhood is not one you want to be hanging out in after dark. I stay parked far enough down the street to not be made out. I give one last good scan before I head over to the prison, hoping I can get any sort of information for Xander. Anything that could clear his name.
There’s been a lot of activity around this house, but Benji and Russ rarely leave it.
I don’t want to believe my eyes when a distinct ’96 red Civic pulls up to their house. My heart clenches in my chest when my biggest fear becomes reality.
Caleb exits his Civic and approaches the house. Benji takes a step out, greeting him at the door. Caleb shakes his hand then pulls the backpack from his shoulders as he enters.
A slow-moving F-150 and suspicious eyes scare me from my spot. I’ve seen enough for now, anyway. I can’t stomach anything else today. I pull out and make my way back home to get ready to see Xander.
At least that was my intention. I can’t help but roll my eyes when I see Ethan sitting on our stoop, smiling with that odd little smile of his. He’s still wearing his Whittaker’s uniform, which is a nice little reminder that he quit his job at the garage so he could work with Brandi and me. Never mind that it was very much unwelcomed.
Here we fucking go.
“What’s going on, Ethan?” I ask, hearing the attitude in my voice though I tried to stifle it.
“I just got off work. Hadn’t seen you in a while and thought I’d drop by and say ‘hi’. It’s weird, but we haven’t really been scheduled together lately.”
“Yeah, sorry, man. I don’t make the schedule.” But Brandi does. Of course I’m not going to tell him I asked her to not give us shifts together. “And unfortunately, I’m just a little bit busy. Would you mind if I hit you up later?”
He motions for the door. “Just for a second? I wanted to talk to you about something really quick.”
Here it comes…
“Okay, Ethan, but only for a second. I really gotta hop in the shower.”
“What, you got a hot date?” he asks defensively as I unlock and open the door.
“Dude, Ethan, it’s three in the afternoon. Who the hell goes on a date at three in the afternoon? Is that what you came here to ask me?” I walk in and throw my keys onto the kitchen table, waking my dad up in the adjoining living room—but only for a moment. He’ll have to sleep through our conversation because Ethan is not going anywhere near my room.
“Do you want to sit?” He looks over his shoulder at my dad. “Or go in your room?”
“I’m fine here, Ethan. What’s up?”
He leans back awkwardly against the kitchen counter.
“You know, I’ve just thought a lot about you and I, and with what you’ve been through, and…” He still hasn’t looked me in the eye. Taking a big gulp, he digs his hands into his pockets.
“I just think… we make sense. I think it’s something we both have been fighting for way too long.”
Dear Lord, are you kidding me right now? It takes everything in me not to cringe.
“Ethan, you’re a really great guy and I really appreciate you as a friend, but I think you’ve got this situation all wrong. I don’t look at you like that.”
“Paige, c’mon. We both know there’s something here. I want to protect you and take care of you. I want to be the best husband for you.”
I’m completely taken back. I knew it would be something along those lines, but I wasn’t quite expecting this.
“Listen, I’m not trying to be a bitch in any way, shape or form, but I’m not into you like that, Ethan. You have to stop talking like this.”
He stands, and his sudden movement startles me. A tingle trails up my neck.
“Why are you denying us, Paige?” His brows furrow and there’s a look of pure disdain on his face.
“I’m just telling you the truth. That’s it. Now, I think you need to leave.” I look at my dad. He’s still passed out and snoring. Ethan takes a step forward and puts a hand on my hip. I pull away.
“Ethan! I don’t like you like that. Please, now I have to get ready.”
“Going to see him again, huh?” he mumbles under his breath.
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing. I said nothing. I’ll leave you be. Just think about what I said.”
“Nothing, my ass. You just asked if I’m going to see him again. Who the fuck did you mean by him?”
He nervously picks at his arm, his eyes on the floor.“Xander, the fucking murderer,” he blurts out. “What in the world are you doing seeing him anyways?”
“How do you know about that? I’ve told no one. Not even Brandi. How do you know?”
“I’ll leave you alone. I just misspoke.” He tries to walk out, but I stand in front of the door.
“None of this ‘misspoke’ bullshit. Tell me now, Ethan, or I’ll never talk to you again. I swear to God.”
“Listen, I just don’t want anything to happen to you, Paige.”
“So what, then, you watch me?” I can’t hide my revulsion. I can feel my lips curl back in disgust.
“Not all the time. Only when I’m concerned for your safety. I’m protecting you, Paige.” He takes my hand and tries to pull me toward him. “I’ve always protected you,” he says in an almost whisper.
I push him off and his back slams into the counter.
“Get the fuck out, Ethan!” I point my finger to the door, noticing my father still hasn’t moved a muscle. At first, neither does Ethan. He just looks at me wide-eyed as if he’s a little kid being scolded by his mother.
“Paige, I just want what’s best for you.”
“Get. Out,” I say once more, opening the door for him this time.
“Paige…”
“Now!”
Dad stirs in his sleep, which scares Ethan enough to leave. I shut the door quickly and lock it.
I spent about an hour in the shower cleansing myself of that wretched conversation. I’ve always known Ethan was into me, but nothing like that has ever happened between us. He tried to kiss me once long ago, and I hit the brakes on that really fast. It’s hard to believe with everything I have going on in my life, he would choose now to pull this shit. I can’t let it bother me though. I’m going to see Xander in just a few minutes, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little excited. Even if he will be in a hospital bed.
Xander looks bad, though not as bad as I thought he would after talking to him on the phone. But still pretty fucking bad. Both arms are in casts and his sunken eyes are black and blue. Gauze is wrapped around his forehead. He smiles weakly as I approach. I start to cry and he shakes his head just barely, but it still causes him noticeable pain. It makes me want to cry that much more.
“No crying, lady. I’m good.” A guard stands close by, and it makes me uncomfortable and a little embarrassed for shedding tears. I try my best to fight the feeling.
“You don’t look too good.”
He laughs and then grimaces in obvious pain. He takes my hand into his the best he can, pulling me closer.
“I don’t feel too good,” he says with another feeble smile. I can’t help but feel awful for him. The look in his eyes—it’s the same sweet look I remember. Genuine. Kind. Honorable. He’
s no killer. He can’t be. My mother’s words come immediately into focus.
The eyes tell the truth.
“How did you get me in here? Is this even allowed?” I scan the hospital ward. Hospital beds line either side of the room, and only a few of them are occupied. Handcuffs prevent the patients from leaving their beds. My eyes land on Xander, who only has his feet cuffed to the bed frame.
I’m overcome with sadness. To see him here and to feel like he doesn’t belong… it’s heartbreaking.
“No, not usually. But I gave the warden what he’s been trying to get for awhile. Got to see Twitch, too.”
“He’s your cellmate, right?”
“Yeah. He saved my fucking life.” Tears begin to well in his eyes. “Saved me from a lot.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I haven’t felt good in a while. But I’m starting to.” He lifts both casts in the air. “Two fractured arms.” He motions to his head. “Concussion, fractured orbital. That one was the worst.” He shakes his head, but he’s got a half smile on his face. “They missed all my vital organs with the shank by three fucking millimeters.”
“Damn.” It’s all I can muster.
“Yeah, but it could have been a lot worse. And being in here”—he scans the room—“isn’t so bad.”
“Well, I’m just so happy you’re alive. And that Twitch was there to help.”
“Yeah, me too. I don’t remember much of it. But he and the Warden filled me in.” Xander pauses and takes a deep breath. “Motherfucker tried to rape me. And he fucking could have. I had four guys holding me down. I couldn’t process a lot of what happened after they slammed my head into the concrete.” He looks to the walls in thought, as if fighting to find the words. “But I guess Twitch intervened before anything could happen. Beat the ever-lovin’ shit out of all fucking five of them. And the guy that tried”—he swallows hard, unable to look me in my eyes—“to do that shit, Twitch nearly fucking ended his life.”
There is a quiet stillness between us for a moment before he continues. “Have you found out anything else, Paige? Please tell me you have.”
I look back over at the guard, who has his back against the wall and head down. I don’t know why talking about it makes me nervous. Shit, this entire place makes me nervous. The prison hospital isn’t as bad as the prison itself, but it’s not far off either.
“No … not yet. But I’ll keep looking. I did find out that Caleb’s mixed in with Benji and Russ. I thought maybe he was on drugs for a long time now, but I never expected this. I think he’s dealing. I have no doubt he’s using too.” I shake my head, unsettled by the whole situation. “I didn’t find out much else because I got scared and left.”
“I’m sorry, Paige. I should’ve never had you out there. This is my battle to face. You don’t deserve to be caught up in it.” He stretches as far as he can, and taking my hand, he brings it to his lips and kisses my palm, just like we used to do with each other so long ago. I don’t want to like it, because there’s still so much I don’t know and still so many questions left unanswered. But the thing is I do like it. I like it a lot. And the moment his lips touch my palm, so many familiar feelings completely overwhelm me.
He looks at me inquisitively, perhaps taking in the complete and utter uncertainty I’m projecting or the fresh dose of tears that run freely down my cheeks.
“Paige.” He swallows hard, looking me dead in my eyes. “Do you still think I did it? In your heart, do you?” His eyes are pleading with me. I don’t want to cause him pain, but the truth is, I don’t know what to think…or what to believe. I want to trust what he says, and every day I’ve seen him since we reconnected I’ve noticed more and more of the old Xander show through, but a few weeks of reconnection can’t erase three plus years of pain. Sorry Xander, I don’t know a goddamn thing in this life anymore.
“No, Xander. I don’t think you did it. I really don’t.” Tears begin to roll down my cheek, and he tries to gently wipe them with his casts. It makes me cry even harder.
“Xander…” The corrections officer approaches, pointing to his wristwatch.
“Alright, boss. Thanks.” He looks to me and grabs my hand again. He gives it a light squeeze.
“Will you come see me again?” he asks, his eyes desperate and pleading.
“Of course.”
“Promise?” Another kiss to the palm.
“Promise.”
He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my palms once more. As I walk away from him, the tears streaming harder than ever, I’m hit with a powerful and undeniable feeling that there’s no way this man is a murderer.
There’s just no way.
It’s been twenty minutes since my brother left the apartment. It’s the first time in two weeks he hasn’t brought his backpack with him. He’s hard enough to track as it is, spending most of his time sleeping, or out doing whatever it is he does in the middle of the night.
It takes a few shoulder heaves to bust his bedroom door from its lock, but lucky for me, we live in a dirt cheap apartment complex. The doors are paper thin. It’s also a good thing my dad’s a heavy sleeper.
If Caleb has nothing in his room, I’ll apologize, but I have a feeling I’ll find something. He’s showing all the signs.
I look around the room first, but I don’t see his backpack. I look under his bed…still nothing. I slide open the closet doors, and though I still don’t see it, I do notice a large, beat-up chest, secured with a padlock.
After grabbing some bolt cutters from the utility closet, I pull the chest out and then cut the lock, tossing it to the side. I flip each metal clasp up and the chest lid creaks open slowly. My hands tremble. My pulse races.
The very first thing I see is the backpack. I pull it out and open it carefully. I find exactly what I expected. Inside are hundreds of tiny little bags with white powder in them, along with a wad of filthy cash. There’s also a needle, spoon and a lighter.
I can’t tell if I’m sad or angry, but I’m shaking all over. I take a moment to collect my thoughts, so impossibly worried for my brother and scared he may be too far gone. And I’m so very angry at his complete disregard.
I put the backpack to the side and reach into the chest to pull out a large duffle bag. When I open it up, I see a half dozen or so notebooks. I pick them up and set them down next to the backpack, then take the first one off the top. Flipping it open to a random entry, I begin to read.
March 15th
I bought formaldehyde today. I may have even gotten high off some lol! The previous tokens just aren’t doing it. To say I’m excited would be the understatement of the century. Now the search begins. The best part by far, if I do say so myself. Soon… very, very soon.
In the meantime, I have Benji and Russ right where I want them. They’re like my best friends. I steal to pay for the drugs myself, give them the money and keep the drugs, and they think I’m the world’s best fucking dealer. I’m something alright! So much more than the shit in this town. So much more than the bullshit the people in this town spew. Fuck them all.
I flip a few pages and begin to read again.
March 27th
I found her today. She’s perfect. Looks just like Mom. Everything is ready. I just need to find the right time. There’s nothing anyone can do. This is my destiny. This is what every second of this horrible life has been for. My undeniable vengeance.
I flip the page.
March 30th
I took her today. I kept her in an abandoned cabin in the Twain Lake woods. She struggled more than the last ones, but I stabilized her eventually. She was so damn sexy. It was hard for me to keep my hands off of her… even after death. I see her head in the jar now, and I get an erection all over again… Is that messed up journal? lol
I drop the notebook to the ground, putting both hands to my mouth in disgust. I can’t even believe what I’m reading. I don’t know how, because my stomach is turning over on itself, but I pick the notebook back
up and flip a few more pages.
April 3rd
I feel so compelled to cause mayhem. To make people fear me, to fear my every movement. I don’t know how I got here or why, but this is my destiny. I am here to turn this fucking world upside down.
I hope beyond hope that this is just some sick form of fiction, but the memory of the newspaper article about Mandy Little and her missing head is gnawing at the back of my mind.
I reach back inside the duffel bag and grab the first thing my fingers touch. It’s a manila envelope. I open it and pour out its contents. I’m horrified as I shuffle through driver’s licenses of people I know—people I grew up with—with names I’ve read about in the paper.
My shaking hands reach back into the duffel bag once more and pull out a small cardboard box. Fearful at this point of what exactly I might find, I open it cautiously.
The cardboard box falls and I’m left with only a jar in my trembling hands. The air is ripped out of me. I want to run, but my feet are planted firmly to the ground. My muscles won’t respond to my brain’s commands. I’m forced to look at it…to come to terms with exactly what I’m looking at.
There’s a human head in the jar, ghastly and bloated. Filmy eyes protrude from it. If I hadn’t known Mandy Little my whole life, I may not be able to recognize that it’s her lifeless eyes staring back at me.
I lose all feeling in my hands, dropping the jar to the floor with a loud crash. Glass shoots in every direction, as does the liquid the jar contained. Mandy’s head rolls across the floor and settles with her eyes back on mine. At once, I’m petrified and revolted. It’s hard to even process a thought, let alone figure out what to do next. A stench has taken up the room that makes me nauseous. I stumble a little, my vision beginning to blur. My face is flush and tingling. I fight the urge to pass out, but it’s overwhelming.
I close my eyes and take deep breaths, willing myself to get it together. Some feeling returns to my legs and the icy chill has left my face. I open my eyes, keeping them on the wall and nowhere else, and I’m relieved to find that my vision is clear.