by Silks, Lacey
CHAPTER 24
With the rifle strapped on my back, I crossed our yard and jumped over the meandering stream of water in the ditch. Pucker trotted right at my side. As I set up the rifle, I saw the brothers sitting in their camping chairs on Tristan’s dock, fishing. A hot beverage steamed out of their mugs. I paused to take in the rare moment of their time together, outside of work or scrambling to find evidence to prove me innocent. I had slowly begun to lose hope, and found my need to shoot and focus on something different increase every day. I came into the woods to shoot when the threat of anxiety returned. Today, sneaking a peak at the brothers’ private time warmed me. Maybe there was hope that if I could only get past my court date in a few weeks, we could all be a happy family.
Morning fog hovered further out in the ocean, dissipating at its lazy pace. Beyond the border of trees, the small forest felt like another world. Spring bloomed around me, its life visible on every branch and on the ground. Birds chirped like they’d all just been born. If it weren’t for Allie and Tristan’s home, visible between the veteran oaks, I could have been on the other end of the country and not known it.
Even from this far away, the mother to be looked like a new person in that kitchen, finally cooking and baking. In the few months since Wright’s death, she seemed reborn – confident and strong. Perhaps there was hope yet for me too?
As I attached the sound suppressor to the rifle, I caught the smell of delicious waffles, and I made a note to stop by Allie’s for a late breakfast once I was done. The aroma distracted me for a moment and I looked back to the house. Allie disappeared from the kitchen view and I resumed focusing my lens. The bull’s eye target propped one hundred feet in the woods seemed so small. But I knew I could do this: patience and concentration was the key. The shooting focused me like Julian had said it would. It would keep my mind occupied. He was right. This new hobby definitely took my mind off not only from the struggle with addiction, but also the need to control my fate – I couldn’t give in. The only thing I could see triggering a relapse was a confirmation of my imprisonment.
As I prepared for the first shot, the smell of something burning disturbed me, and I turned back toward Allie’s house. Beyond the glass patio door, Allie seemed to be frozen. Her mouth was partially open and fear shadowed her face. Someone else came into the view, but I couldn’t recognize the posture.
With my finger off the trigger, I swiveled my rifle to point at the window and zoomed in on Allie’s company. An old man was pointing a gun right at her belly.
“Holy fuck!” It was Wright! I remembered the face from Allie’s file. How the hell was he alive? My gaze flew to the Cross brothers, who were unaware what was going on in the house and continued their fishing.
What do I do? What do I do? I tried not to panic, but that was like asking a human trapped in a cage with a wild lion to stay calm. I focused the lens again, this time steadying the rifle over a branch for support. The bastard now had Allie pinned against the kitchen counter and his pants were at his knees.
“No, no, no!” I couldn’t let him hurt her, but could I actually shoot him? What if I missed? What if I shot Allie? What would happen if I didn’t shoot at all?
He jutted the gun against her belly once again and she pressed her hands forward, bracing on the counter.
Shit! He’s going to rape her!
A storm brewed inside me, and in those few seconds I reassessed the situation. I went back in time to remember how I’d been taken advantage of. My decision to not let this bastard live was instant. If he rose from his grave once, he could do it again, and there was only one way to stop him for good.
I focused the rifle right on his forehead, centering the little black cross in the middle. Now I had to wait for Wright to lower his gun. I didn’t want to fire and take a chance that his pistol would go off right into Allie’s womb. When she took a step away and out of my full view, I turned on the laser light that centered my aim, confirming it. While my target stood with his pants down fully visible through the patio door, Allie moved closer to the kitchen window. The light puff of smoke disappeared.
Steady... Nice and easy. I took one last breath in and exhaled.
Something stirred to my left and I knew that Tristan and Julian had smelled the burning waffles, but my attention remained on Wright. I couldn’t lose my cool now.
Concentration and patience. I remembered Julian’s words.
“I’ve got you, Allie,” I said.
“Kendra, no!” Tristan yelled from the shore, but it was too late. I pulled the trigger and didn’t miss. The glass shattered. Allie screamed and lowered out of my view.
I rushed toward the house with Pucker right on my heel; Julian and Tristan were behind me. I stopped just outside the patio door. Beyond the threshold, splatter of red stains covered the white cabinets, marble tiles and white sheers. Somewhere from inside I heard Allie’s whimpers and Tristan rushed past me.
The smell of burnt waffle batter intensified. My stomach twisted and the world in front of me began spinning. Old memories flashed in my mind: the school, Donato’s blood, and my hands on the gun that killed him.
Keeping my fingers wrapped around its handle, I lowered the rifle to the ground and sat back against the railing at the same time Julian crouched at my side. By this time I was in full shake mode, letting the fact that I’d just killed a third person in my life, sink in. The past few minutes, from the forest to this wooden patio, had been filled with pure adrenaline. I’d acted on instinct. I couldn’t let him kill her.
“You’re all right, K. You’re all right.” He removed the rifle from my grip. “Don’t go in there. Will you be okay by yourself for a moment?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Pucker jumped in my lap as if sensing I needed him. Controlling my shaking hands, I scratched the top of his head the way he liked.
“I’ll be right back.”
It took Julian a few seconds to return. “Allie’s all right. She’s safe. God, K, we thought you were aiming for her.”
My gaze rose to meet his. “Why would you ever think that?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. We thought you snapped, fell off the wagon.”
I simply nodded. It was not only difficult to breathe but also to speak. Pucker jumped off my lap to chase a butterfly down the other side of the patio. My chest compressed and I lowered my head between my knees, counting to ten, desperate to find my anchor.
“He was gonna rape her,” I whispered from in between my knees. Julian’s hand rested at the back of my neck. His fingers smoothed along my hairline, before drawing lower to massage the tense spots around my spine. Never in my life did I think I could shoot someone, but I had. And the scary part was, it felt good. Unbelievably gratifying to see the wet stain of Wright’s brain remains. He had finally paid for what he’d done. Allie would never again doubt whether he was still alive. The moment my finger pressed the trigger, I’d let go own of my past and the damage that had been done to me, as well.
I could finally say I was once again the same person I’d been before the train accident. Scarily enough, too damned same. That confident woman who not only took charge of her life but wouldn’t let a bastard like Wright or Donato hurt other girls. That single bullet I’d shot not only killed Wright, but it also pierced the shell of my stolen memories, shattering it and letting me remember what happened that day I killed Donato – and it wasn’t pretty. As I wondered how this would affect my case two weeks from now, my stomach began to ache.
“Julian, call the ambulance. Allie’s water broke!” Tristan yelled from inside.
Julian reached into his pocket and dialed a number. Time seemed to pass in a haze. I sat in the same spot, with my knees curled underneath me. Julian covered my shoulders with his sweatshirt. He then spoke to someone else; I thought it was a police officer he knew. It was only a few minutes later that Allie was taken away to the hospital and a swarm of agents and detectives began their work. I kept repeating my story of what
had happened until Julian stepped in.
“I think that’s enough for today. Let’s get you home.”
“I should clean this mess up.”
“You need to come home with me, K. I’ll take care of this.”
“Julian, I’m out on bail, and I just killed someone. Why aren’t they arresting me?”
“Shh, let’s just get you home, all right?”
“Any word from Allie yet?” Was it possible the shot I’d fired that killed Wright had pushed her stress levels over the edge and sent her into labor?
“No. This is not your fault, Kendra. You did great – really, really good. If it weren’t for you, we could have been arranging a funeral for someone else.”
At the thought Allie in a casket with her swollen tummy, my stomach turned again. I jumped to my feet and scrunched over the patio railing. All the muscles in my body tensed, forcing me to throw up.
“K, let me get you home, please. I’m sure Tristan will call as soon as he knows something, and we can visit.”
I just shook my head in agreement. Julian held me around my back and slowly we treaded across the green lawn I’d crossed this peaceful morning back to our house, leaving the chaos, along with a cleaning crew, behind us.
CHAPTER 25
Needing to clean up the mess at Tristan and Allie’s, Julian called my parents to come stay with me. They were able to lease a house nearby, waiting for my trial. Due to an iron-clad deal in exchange for my confession, no one charged them. I couldn’t get rid of the sound of sirens in my ears, but no one came in to arrest me or question me. Holding a cup of peppermint tea, I sat in the family room with my legs underneath me. My father was pacing back and forth, waiting for Julian’s call, and when the ring tone sounded I jumped up.
“Hello,” he answered, his gaze immediately darting to me. My father listened for longer than a minute as my mother and I both stared at him.
“She’s nervous, but I think she’ll be all right now,” my father smiled. I remembered that expression of relief washing over his face from when I was a child. The tension in his shoulders eased as he plopped down in the cushioned chair, letting his muscles loose. Whatever Julian had said to him had to be good news.
“I’ll let her know. Thank you, Julian. For everything.” He clicked the phone off.
“Please tell me you have some sort of good news.” My mother sat at my side and squeezed my hand.
“You’re in the clear. The whole incident was recorded. Allie was testing the baby’s video monitor that morning because the security cameras were off. She left the video turned on in the family room. You did the right thing to shoot the bastard.”
Even if she didn’t know it yet, Allie had saved me, and I saved her. For the first time since I came home, I slouched back against the couch cushion.
“Is Julian coming home?” I asked.
“Allie just gave birth to twins. He’s on his way to the hospital to see how they’re doing, and if everything is well, he’ll come back to pick you up.”
Of course – one thing the Cross family always had was their perfect sense of timing. While I wished I could go with Julian, I was sure it was still better to stay home for a while, if nothing else, to avoid the media attention. I wondered whether they were planning to park outside the gates all night, and if so, I doubted I’d get much sleep.
For the past two months, since I found out I’d killed Donato, my nightmares had turned from bloody red to orange – the color of my soon-to-be uniform. The hearing was two weeks away, and we were nowhere close to coming up with a good defense.
“One murder down, one more to go,” I joked.
“Honey, you have the best lawyers in the country defending you.”
“And one of the most influential families in the government working against me. If they could only see what he was doing to that girl when I came into the class…”
“What?” My father jumped to his feet.
My own face drained of blood as I just realized that I actually remembered what had happened that day. Everything. The details were as clear as if it were yesterday. With the commotion at Allie’s house and her going into labor and Julian running around to settle my mess, trying to clear me of another murder, I totally forgot that the moment I fired the rifle in the woods and shot Wright, the memories from that day, nearly a decade ago, were triggered and flooded back to me all at once. Even the ones of me training for the Olympics, the long hours I’d spent at the shooting ranges, the cross country skiing. Oh, my God! I can ski!
“Kendra,” my mother’s voice trembled. “What do you remember?”
St. Vincent’s High School – eight years ago
I’d been in touch with Olivia for three weeks. Since the day she’d sent me that private message on Facebook, I’d been obsessed to figure out what I could do to help her. It had been almost a year since I’d left St. Vincent’s. I’d set up groups and invited everyone from the school to join. The students responded immediately, formed new bonds and relationships, sharing advice on homework research. There was no bullying, no foul language, and a do unto others what you’d like done to you motto. Responsible contributors moderated the groups, taking the burden off my shoulders. The Barbies stopped picking on the quieter kids, who now had a support system that helped with loneliness, inadequacy, academic issues, and even grief. We’d added files with links to outside support groups in case anyone wanted to venture through that route. I’ve done in ten months what the school couldn’t do in years: coordinated a student-run counseling center. The news of the operation went viral, and I’d even seen others adapt our success to their own schools.
But the email I got from Olivia irritated me.
Hi Kat,
Can you set up a group for students against bad teachers? You know, to warn others.
Liv
At first I wasn’t sure what she meant, but my gut tightened when I thought back to the reasons why I would want the kind of group she was asking.
Olivia, what would you warn them about? I wrote back.
Not to stay for extra help after school hours, she replied the next day.
A chill coursed through me when I read each of her messages. The following day, they kept coming every hour.
Not to wear skirts to class.
Sit close to the exit door.
One favor for the teacher will not get you a better grade.
Not to take Mr. Donato’s science class.
That last message did it for me. It was happening again. The bastard had the balls to assault another girl. I should have stopped him that day. I should have told someone what had happened. And now, because of my stupidity, someone else would get hurt. I wanted to involve the authorities, but Olivia insisted I didn’t. I wasn’t sure why.
Thank you for your support, Kat, but today after school I’m going to stop him once and for all.
From the tone of her message, I was afraid Olivia wouldn’t go to the principal or just knee Donato in the groin. She would take ‘care of it’ herself. From what I could read between the lines, she’d been through too much with Donato. That afternoon I left my high school through a bathroom window, so my own security guy couldn’t follow. He’d inform my parents and I, at their request, wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near the school. I rushed across town in a cab. Only a few students remained in the halls of my old high school, mostly on the first floor. Running up every second step felt like trying to surface from a pool of molasses. Upstairs, the hollow halls carried one voice I recognized and another one I was sure belonged to Olivia. I quickened my pace, but this time I tiptoed, listening in.
“Please don’t.”
“Stay still, Olivia. This is what you wanted, remember.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You have to earn your grades in this class, my way,” he said. “You’ve been teasing me enough.”
“I’m not going to let you hurt me anymore,” she said, and he didn’t respond. My legs sped up on their own as an audible s
truggle ensued. Moans and groans later I was by the class door, oddly not locked the way Donato had done with me. He’d either become careless or thought that he could get away with anything.
“No!” Her muffle tore through my own body.
“You think you can stop me with this?” he asked. Something clunked to the floor and I saw Olivia’s purse fly out of her grip. A gun stuck out of the side pocket.
“What were you going to do, hit me over the head with a purse?” he laughed.
She let out another sob. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“You’ll only get hurt if you don’t listen.”
I gently pushed open the door and tiptoed inside. Donato’s back was turned to me. He forced Olivia to lie back on his desk. A blade glistened in his palm, right against her ribcage.
I wanted to yell, “Get the fuck away from her!”, but I was afraid he’d startle and jab her. Plus, I knew exactly what Donato was capable of, and even if he pulled away, I had a feeling he’d happily accommodate his little escapade for a party of three. And I wasn’t about to be forced into anything by this asshole.
Slowly, I edged against the wall to the side where Olivia’s purse lay on the floor. By this time she was sobbing, “I don’t want this, please stop.”
The agony I’d felt a year ago surfaced. This could have been me. If I hadn’t stopped Donato on his first advance, he could have forced me onto his desk the same way he had Olivia. But I was strong then, and I had to be even stronger now – for her.
In response he lowered his zipper, and then inched his hands to her knees, spreading them apart. She tried to fight, but now he stuck that blade so close to her throat I was afraid she’d stop breathing just so that the knife wouldn’t cut into her skin.
I slid the gun out of her purse and aimed it at his back. Olivia must have planned this ahead as the suppressor was already affixed. I’d shot this kind of a gun before. Although it wasn’t one of the best, I knew I wouldn’t miss. I removed the safety latch, and the moment his hand grazed up Olivia’s inner thigh, I fired at his back, aiming perfectly so the bullet would go right in the bastard’s heart. He’d never hurt anyone again. It seemed to happen in slow motion. I saw the bullet cut through the air, and the delicate smell of gun powder drift from the nozzle.