by Peach, Hanna
I start to obsess about how I can escape. I dream about leaving town, about catching my first plane out of this country to… anywhere. Anywhere but here. Because this is the Tyrells’ country. And anywhere I go here, I will still be in his territory.
At the university library I do an internet search on how to apply for a passport. I don’t dare do it on my laptop. The laptop he gave me. Just in case Jacob finds it in my browsing history. Or has some sort of key tracking device installed. I almost weep when I realize that I would have to apply in person because it would be my first passport. I know that Jacob is keeping track of me and I would never get away with applying for a passport without him knowing.
I can’t even ask for help. I damn anyone I involve. Look at what I did to Winston. I am alone.
I withdraw into my studies. I sit by myself in lectures to let Winston keep our friends. I know he won’t go near me anymore. And he doesn’t deserve to be the one who sits by himself. So I go, willingly. It’s the least I can do.
Jacob makes me spend every night at his apartment now. I only go to my dorm between classes or to pick up more clothes.
One night, I wake up in the middle of the night needing water and the bathroom. Jacob isn’t in bed next to me. When I run my hand out I can feel the sheets have gone cold.
It’s not unusual for Jacob to wake up and leave in the middle of the night, so I think nothing of it. I grab a dressing gown and wrap my naked self up. Jacob doesn’t let me sleep with clothes on. Even when we don’t have sex, which is becoming more and more frequent. Like earlier tonight. Earlier tonight he was too distracted and I crawled into bed without him, feeling thankful and rejected at the same time.
I use the ensuite. Then I patter through the living area towards the kitchen in search of water. The moonlight filtering through the open curtains gives me enough light that I don’t need to turn any on. A noise causes me to glance at the door on the other side of the living area. I know that the rooms beyond the living area are Jacob’s private offices and the guest rooms. Sometimes he lets me study in one of the guest rooms. But not the offices.
Suddenly I’m more curious than thirsty. I shouldn’t, but something inside me pushes me forward. A small piece of defiance. I slip silently towards the door that leads from the living area. As I creep closer I recognize the muffled sound of yelling. I get closer. I hear Jacob’s voice, and he’s angry. Angry is a sound forever etched into my skull. I would recognize it in my sleep.
Who is he yelling at? Why is he angry?
The gap under the door is dark and the voice is muffled so I know that Jacob isn’t in the smaller formal living area directly beyond this door. From this smaller living room are two doors. One leads to an ensuite. The other leads to his office which is connected to the ensuite.
I test the door handle to the formal living area and find it unlocked. A thrill of fear and adrenaline runs through me. I slip inside but keep the door ajar just in case.
In the formal living room, the curtains are partially drawn, so there’s less light. My skin prickles as I stand in the dark, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dimness. The darkness recedes into lumpy shadows. I can see a line of light from under the far right door. Jacob’s office. The voices are definitely coming from there.
I should turn back now. It really is no business of mine who Jacob is yelling at and why he is angry. But then I hear the slap of flesh and the soft cry of another person. A woman. The hairs rise across my skin. Jacob’s hurting her. Or he’s fucking her.
My stomach clenches. I feel a sick flash of jealousy. Jacob only hits me because he loves me. Does he love this other woman, too? Is she why he was so disinterested in me earlier tonight?
I need to see what is going on.
I creep to the door that leads to the ensuite, praying it isn’t locked. It isn’t. I cautiously open the door to the ensuite and peer in. I pause and my breath catches. The sliding door, the one that leads to Jacob’s office is slightly open. I can see the line of light shining from around the door. My mouth goes dry and suddenly I feel naked. This dressing gown isn’t enough clothing.
I can hear Jacob’s voice through the gap as I step into the ensuite. “…me to the fuckin’ pigs.”
What the hell is he talking about? I take another step.
“You leave me no choice, Adele. It’s over.”
Adele? My heart clenches. Who is Adele? And what is she to Jacob? What’s over?
“I’m−” But I don’t hear any more. Jacob’s voice is drowned out by the sound of music being turned on and up. I don’t recognize the song, but it sounds like an Italian opera. Jacob plays Italian opera music sometimes when he’s holding meetings in his office.
I feel blinded by the melody reverberating through the walls. I can’t hear what is happening. My heart starts to thud in my ears and it races to beat to the tempo of the music. I step forward, the light drawing me closer like a moth to candlelight. I feel like I’m moving without consciousness, like I’m being drawn against my will to press my eye to the gap. I can start to see movement through the space.
Almost there.
One more step.
I lift up my fingers and press them to either side of the gap between the door and the doorframe. Lightly, softly. Don’t make any noise. Don’t push too hard to cause the door to wobble.
I press my eye to the space.
I can see Jacob. He’s standing and facing the far wood-paneled wall and he has his back to me. I see Snake standing on one side of a woman, holding her in place by the sheer vice-like, white-knuckled grip he has on her slim upper arm. Snake is facing the girl and the girl is facing me.
This must be Adele. She’s blonde, but the straw fake-blonde of over-bleached hair. She is wearing a red dress that could hardly be called a dress. More like a belt. I would hate her completely if I couldn’t see the blood running down the side of her mouth. My insides prickle with tension. Even from here I can tell she has been crying. Even from here I can smell the stink of her fear.
She starts to struggle, but Snake twists her arm back hard, and she can’t tear away. My arm aches for her.
I don’t see the gun in Jacob’s gloved hand until he lifts it to point at her. No, this isn’t real. I’m just watching a film. See, even the lady’s singing knows that it is time to crescendo into a high note.
Adele knows she is going to die. I can see on her face the moment she gives up. Her shoulders collapse and her pink mouth screws up.
No! I want to yell at her. Don’t give up. Never give up.
As if Adele hears my thoughts, I swear her eyes find mine from across the room, two hollow pools. For a moment they lighten as if they are signaling me for help. Or perhaps it is just the shine of light against her tears. And I can’t see anything else except for her eyes.
Then they roll into her head and she slides down the wall, Snake having let go of her. The rest of the room comes back into focus. I see the blood splatter across the wood panel. I see the dark red hole in her forehead before she slumps completely to the floor. And I see Jacob, my Jacob, my lover, lowering his gun.
And the lady keeps singing like nothing has happened. Like the world hasn’t shifted. And I can’t take my eyes off the blood on the wall.
I flinch when Jacob moves to hand the gun to Snake. The horror of what I have witnessed wraps around me, crushing my lungs, and I can’t breathe. Snake moves out of my sight. Jacob pulls off his black gloves. And everything starts to spin.
Then the music is cut off. And that’s when my world rights again.
The silence is throbbing in my ears along with the glub glub of the blood rushing through my veins. Blood in my veins. Blood on the wall.
I just witnessed a murder. Somebody shot Adele. At the moment I can’t mentally connect Jacob to this sentence. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he just killed someone.
My Jacob.
What... What if he comes in here to wash his hands?
I have to get out of here without b
eing noticed. I have to pretend I didn’t see anything and then…
Nothing comes after that thought. I just need to get out of here.
I back away from the gap across the cold bathroom tiles, not wanting to take my eyes off the space. I bump into something and almost scream. I slam my knuckles against my mouth to silence myself. It’s just the edge of the toilet. I have to keep going. I have to watch where I’m going.
I force myself to turn my head away from the door to Jacob’s office. Immediately my neck protests by shocking my hairs into standing. Don’t turn your back on Jacob. Never turn your back on Jacob. My ears are perked up and waiting for the sound of the door to open behind me and expose me.
I slip through the door into the formal living space. In the dark it looks like a forest. The tables and couches and chairs all seem to have grown trunks and limb-like branches. The other door, and my safety, seems to disappear into the dark beyond.
Can’t look back. Can’t stop. Keep going. Live.
I creep, hunched over, to the main living room door, fighting myself to stay calm and quiet although all my muscles are screaming at me to run. Run, God damn it, run!
And my heart. My heart wants to run away, too. It slams against my ribs and threatens to tear out of my throat. Keep calm. Quiet. If you want to live.
I weave my way in and out of the furniture. Almost there. My foot catches the rug. I lurch forward. My lungs seize up as I flail for a second. I manage to catch myself before I fall. But I make a small thudding noise. Shit. Did someone hear it?
I can’t wait to find out. I run to the door and slip through it. I tear through the living room and into Jacob’s bedroom. Jacob’s room smells like his cologne. The smell makes me nauseous. My shoes, my clothes. I need my wallet, my keys. Oh God. What first? I grab a shirt from the top of my bag.
No. The cold realization wraps around my bones. I can’t go. I need to pretend like I’ve been asleep all along. I can’t leave now. Jacob will know that something’s wrong. He’ll know that I saw him. I need to pretend like everything is okay until Jacob lets me go home. It’s the only way I’m getting out of this apartment alive.
Oh God. I stare at the bed that I share with Jacob. My stomach twists and I have to clasp a hand to my mouth to stop from throwing up. Or crying out. My other hand grabs at my stomach. Oh God. The same hand he used to kill her is the same hand that he uses to give me pleasure. How could I fall in love with someone like this?
I can’t get back into bed with him. I can’t.
No, a voice inside me cries out. You can and you will. And do it now because Jacob is coming back any minute.
I don’t know how I manage it but I take off my dressing gown and crawl back into his bed. My skin reacts like it is breaking out in a rash against these sheets. But I force myself to stay there.
I smell him – us – on the sheets and the waves of nausea keep coming. But I don’t move. I lie on my side and stare at the wall in the dark and will my breathing to steady and instruct my heart to calm, calm, just calm down. I don’t know for how long I lie there.
I hear the door click.
The sound causes every nerve ending to scream. I hear Jacob enter the bedroom and pad across the room to the bed. I close my eyes. If I give away that I saw him, he’ll kill me. And I want to live. I want to live. So breathe. Just breathe.
I have this memory of when my parents were still alive. I had woken up to a nightmare and run into their room screaming. They wrapped me up between them and their presence was like shields around me. Soft, warm, loving shields that protected me. I force my mind to go back to this memory and I pretend that this is just a nightmare and I am actually asleep, safe in my parents’ arms. I’ll wake up soon. I will. I feel my heart slowing as a warmth surrounds me.
Then the mattress shifts behind me. The smell of soap and Jacob’s cologne keeps intruding through my memory. He washed himself after he… the smell makes the room spin. Just keep breathing. His arm curls around my stomach and he pulls me into place. I am thankful his hand doesn’t go anywhere on my chest. He would feel my heart about to burst out of my ribs.
His body is hot. Too hot and it scorches my back. And causes bile to rise in my throat. And his mark to burn on my ass. But I remain still.
I don’t sleep.
As the light through the curtains signals dawn, I feel Jacob waking up and his erection growing against my back. My body tenses as his hands dive down my stomach. Oh God. Then he touches me between my legs. Something inside me breaks. And everything goes numb. The numbness works through my body as he works his fingers against me. It isn’t long before he climbs on top of me.
I should be screaming at him. I should be pushing his hands off me. But I don’t. I feel nothing. I think nothing except that I want to live. I want to get out of here alive. I want that more than anything. I want to live.
You won’t realize how strong you are until you are given no other choice.
When he kisses me, I kiss him right back. When he touches me I make all the right noises. And when he enters me I wrap my legs around his waist and push back against the headboard because I know he likes it when I do that. And it also means he will come quicker. The quicker he comes, the less time I have to make myself go through this. I squeeze my eyes shut and remind myself, I am strong. And I want to live. And I repeat this word in my mind with every thrust.
Live.
Live.
Live.
“I need to go home for a few hours today,” I finally get up the courage to say to Jacob over breakfast. My voice shakes and I hope he doesn’t notice it.
“Why?”
“Class,” I blurt out.
Jacob folds back his newspaper and narrows his eyes at me. “I didn’t think you had classes today.”
Fuck. “I don’t, but there’s a book I need for class, um, for class tomorrow. There’s homework due that I need to do. I need the book to do the homework for class… tomorrow…” I stop talking. Shit. Even I sound suspicious to myself.
Jacob’s eyes flick in the direction of his office. “Okay, I’ve got business I need to take care of this morning. I’ll pick you up for dinner.”
Oh my God. I force myself not to cry out in relief. I’m almost out of here. Almost.
“Snake will take you home.”
I freeze. No, please. Not Snake. Not Snake who was just involved in a murder. Not Snake who would kill me in a second if he knew that I knew. Why does it have to be Snake?
All the way home I can feel Snake’s eyes on me from across the limo. His beady pinpoint eyes feel like needles in my skin. I try not to look at him. I swear he knows that I saw them. I swear he does.
Snake insists on walking me all the way to my dorm room, which he never does. Oh God, he knows. Just breathe. I force myself to walk straight, chin high as he walks behind me. I can feel his eyes on me, coating me like a slimy moss. When I reach my door I force myself to turn briefly to him and thank him. I fumble with my door and stumble into my dorm room. Trisha isn’t in her bed. There’s no one here except Snake and me. I turn to shut the door. But Snake’s foot shoots out to stop it from closing. Oh fuck.
He pushes the door back open and stares at me with narrowed eyes. “I’ll be back. At five.”
I nod and try not to let the fear leak out of my eyes.
Finally he takes his foot out from my door and I can finally shut it.
I lean my ear against the door until I hear his footsteps fade away. Only then does the wave of horror rise up from my soul like bile. It burns my throat. I run to the bathroom. My insides clench violently as I curl over the toilet and throw up all my breakfast. My body is trying to purge itself of Jacob, of his touch, of his smell, of his taste. Oh God.
Even after I have nothing left to throw up, I still feel sick. I feel like every single pore in my body is dirty. I rinse out my mouth and the burn of the mouthwash is cleansing. I wish I could soak my body in it so that it burns away every trace of Jacob.
I tear
off the clothes I’m wearing and stuff them in the trash. My body feels cold like frostbite and it’s painful when I stand under the hot shower. But even after I stand under there for twenty… thirty… forty minutes there’s a part of me that is still cold. A part of me that will never defrost.
I force myself out of the shower then to change – jeans and a plain tee and sneakers.
Then I run.
Chapter 25
The present
Through the slip in the blinds I can see the sun has dipped below the horizon darkening outside. The street lights are on and it floods the street with pools of light. I watch for anyone coming to the building for me. No one does.
I slip my gun on my bedside table while I call Dixie and tell her I can’t come in to work today. She can tell something’s wrong but she doesn’t pry. She tells me to take as much time as I need.
My mind keeps going over how this could all possibly connect. The woman’s number on a matchbook from a club which just happens to be owned by the Tyrells… Jacob Tyrell being the very man I am running from. Is this just a coincidence?
The paranoid part of me, the part that still doesn’t trust anyone, says that there is no such thing as fucking coincidences. What if Cade is working for the Tyrells? What if he was using me all this time?
This can’t be true. It can’t. It just can’t. Every look, everything Cade has said to me, it doesn’t feel like a lie. And, if this were true, why hasn’t he killed me? Or brought me to Jacob?
But I can’t deny the link. I can’t take any risks. I have to leave again. At least I had eight good months here. There’s cash and clothes in my car. All I have to do is go downstairs and start driving. And Caden would never find me.
I get out of bed and stare around my apartment. Is there anything else I need to take with me? I open the bedside drawer to take out the spare magazine of my Smith and Wesson. I see the drawing that Jeff made of us and I feel a pang of loss. Your family away from home.