Destructive Release

by L. U. Ann

  Devon loads the car so that we can have an early start tomorrow while I finish collecting the trash throughout the house. Not that we were here much, but there are still bags we will need to drop off at a local dumpster tonight. I don’t like Devon being outside at dusk or later with the number of bears I found were in the area. If the black bear and I never meet, it will be fine with me. I have worked my whole life to not be eaten by them and so far, I have managed to stay on top. I will even make a pact with them: I will not eat them, if they do not eat me.

  Baby Lane falls asleep at her normal time with an exhausted Evan right behind her. The moisture in the air has cooled thanks to an earlier roaring thunderstorm. All that remains is a light trickle of water falling below. The stream running along the back whooshes down as gravity carries the freshly fallen drops to a resting place. Trees along the bank dance, orchestrating its symphony. The inferential sounds grow louder as creatures step out of their burrows shielding them from the steady droplets. The thunderstorm is a blissful memory gifting the grounds with water and nutrients enriching this thriving ecosystem.

  Devon and I sit on the porch that sits high on the back of the house and listen to the ensemble of croaks, whistles, cackles, ch-ch-ch’s from a plethora of pitches, vibrations of thoraxes, rubbing legs, and wings taking their first flight after the storm. “Thank you for bringing us here. It’s going to suck going back to you working long hours. I miss you, Devon, and want you to know I have really enjoyed spending time with you.”

  Devon leans over to nuzzle my neck, sending excitement and goose bumps throughout. I close my eyes and lean into his gentle touch. “Hmm, I love spending time with you, too. I hope that my hours will ease after my first year on the job is up. You know that with the time I took off from the accident, I have to make it up.” His fingers rake through my hair. “Don’t worry, Sugar Pants, I come home every night to you. I think we have quality time together, don’t you?” He pulls back. His twinkling eyes carry a bit of mischief, and I know very well what he means by quality time. I chuckle and he leans into my neck. The soft breeze against my face sends my hair flying behind our soothing movements. His hand moves to grab the back of my head directing our mouths’ impending connection as our limbs lap like waves meeting the shoreline. He rolls onto his back, pulling me with him. Ravenous tension builds through friction in search of quench. With skillful hands, he removes my sundress in a quick swoop. Fingers trail down my sides eliciting goose bumps as they continue to the back of my thighs just as pressure increases connecting our excitement. Digits continue to knead and influence my movements sending our breaths gasping for air.

  With mouths fighting to express their love, Devon lifts me to unbuckle his shorts. I sit and stare into his hungry eyes as he devours my every move. I am close to combustion. My hands cover his, and I take over pulling on his buckle to free the clasp. Slowly pulling the leather strap through the loop, I bite my lip with anticipation of what I am about to discover. Eyes locked, I continue the slow motion of unbuttoning his shorts, and ever so slowly, I slide the zipper where he springs free coming to attention. I scoot back as I slide his shorts down with hooded eyes and lean forward to trace his length with my tongue—not forgetting to circle the tip that he enjoys so much. He moans encouraging my mouth to move faster.

  “Come here,” he stops me. Pulling my body closer, he guides his length inside of me and I cry. His hands return to my hair guiding the union of our mouths. When the feeling becomes too much, I rock back and forth. He grabs ahold of my hips, taking over. Out of breath, I rest my forehead on his while we breathe in the intoxicating scent of each other. My eyes find his with the urgency becoming unbearable.

  We watch as ecstasy is exquisitely sought.

  The calm after the storm paralleled in our slowed movements. Moans and shouting have ceased. Now, it is the slow rhythm of a wave machine flowing throughout us. Unspoken words as we cherish our united love and the torch slowly extinguishes the acute desire that leaves smoldering smoke drifting into a quiet slumber. He plays with a strand of my hair listening to the sounds of the night.

  A mumbled cry sounds through the monitor causing both of us to jump up and get dressed before we are dashing in to see if Baby Lane is okay. Running without a thought of what we look like, we reach her Pack n’ Play where she is fussing. No alarms are sounding and we sigh heavily. I know we would have heard the alarm if it were to go off, but we have become accustomed to jumping at her every move. I am so scared she will stop breathing and we won’t know. It is an unnecessary evil in my mind. Subconsciously, Devon feels the same way. Otherwise, he would not jump each time her alarm sounds or when she cries. Is this how many parents react when their child has been through so much, if not worse? I can’t think about that because it is just going to upset me. The doctors have yet to give us a reason for her desaturations, other than her coordination has not kicked in. At three months, we all expected it to rectify. Picking up my distraught little munchkin, I bounce her in my arms and begin to sing on my way to the rocking chair. I close my eyes and sit. Opening my eyes, they stop when meeting Devon’s—the stars navigate and unite us in his eyes. His gaze is full of love and embodiment. Heat raises to my cheeks as the fire from earlier reignites us, but as I tear my attention away to look into my sweet little girl’s eyes, the insurmountable reality of what Devon and I created overrides my wants.

  “Hi, sweet girl,” I coo, smiling at the beautiful gift in my arms. Eyes as blue as the sea loom in attempt to stay open. They are so beautiful and are Devon’s eyes without a doubt. Baby Lane’s eyes glisten with life like his while mine are more of a deep hue. Perhaps, like a sunken ship lost in the depths of the ocean where Baby Lane and Devon float on the surface enjoying the waters weightlessness as well as the oxygen above.

  Devon reaches for Baby Lane after securing the strap of the monitor on his shoulder. “Shh, shh, shh.” He rocks her keeping her asleep. With my arms free, I brush my teeth and freshen up for bed. Climbing into the covers, the warmth surrounds me in a comforting embrace, and I fall into the night before Devon makes it to bed.

  “Devon, I told you. I don’t know what happened. GPS told you to go this way because of the accident. It’s not much further out of the way. See, look at the map,” I finish taking in my husband’s tight jaw and heavy thoughts.

  “Lacey, I’m trying to drive. I can’t read a damn map right now.” I roll my eyes at his short fuse.

  “The accident is causing heavy backups, and if we go this way, we’ll go right around it. No harm, no foul. Besides, if the car sits still, you know Baby Lane will begin to fuss.”

  “I know. I just don’t want us to get lost.” I smile at his concern and rest my hand on his knee.

  “It’s fine. Please don’t worry.” I try to soothe the improbability he is internally battling. “Would you like to stop for an early lunch soon?” Changing the subject is something I have always mastered. He glances over to his right and smiles. I must not have fooled him. Leaning my head back against the headrest, I watch the beautiful landscape pass us. Lush greens in every shade imaginable, the rolling hills of the Appalachian Mountains hold secrets under the canopy of trees unknown to those driving by. My phone chirps indicating a text has come through. Digging through my bag, nervous about it being Grandma Pain. ‘Dad’ flashes across the screen. “What the hell,” I mumble. I haven’t spoken to him in a while, so why is he texting me again? I didn’t dare reply to his last text, and I still pray to God Almighty that he can never have children again. I continue to work on distancing our relationship, or whatever you want to call what we had. Opening the message, “I just want to let you know we are expecting.”

  Gasping, I yell. “No!” She can’t be pregnant.

  “What is it?” Devon asks after causing him to jump.

  I stare out the window, numb from the onslaught of fear. Fear for the child, fear for other children, fear that the cycle of abuse will never end. Tears stream down my face, and I immediately need the c
omfort only my sister can give. She’s the only one who knows what it was like growing up and what our fears have been.

  “Lacey, what is going on? Why are you crying?” he asks. I ignore him. “Stop it. Tell me what is going on.” I shake my head no.

  Fingers shaking, I scroll through my contacts and push on her number. Three rings, “Oh, my God, Lane! I hate him!” I shout between unstoppable sobs. She asks me to calm down she can’t understand me. Devon pulls over on the side of the road trying to find out what’s going on. Taking the phone from my grip he speaks to Lane, “I don’t know, her phone beeped and then she called you… No, I have no idea what it’s about… Okay, we’ll call you back.” Devon disconnects the call while I jump out of the minivan not wanting Evan to witness me falling apart. I run to the back of the van and scream with my balled fists. Bending over I use a minute to concentrate on breathing.

  “Lacey, what the hell?” Devon’s voice has me standing up with his door slamming. I turn and put my hand out to stop him while I try to control the raging emotions stirring within. Completely beside myself, I look up into the sky and scream. “Why?” I gasp and bend over from the lack of oxygen. I can’t let this happen. He can’t do this. He can’t!

  “Please don’t. I can’t do this. I can’t—” I stammer with my stomach doing flips as he nears me.

  Devon ignores my wishes and pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make this better, sweetheart.” He rubs my head and back trying to soothe the acute pain. I shake my head unable to talk. Clutching his shirt, I cry for the poor child conceived. The child whose father will most likely die before he or she becomes a parent themselves; I cry for the possible abuse they may endure; I cry realizing he has chosen to have a new life with Nika, and this child rather than try to work things out with Lane and me. I don’t care if I don’t want to have a relationship with him. He never even tried to make things right! He didn’t care enough to try just like he didn’t care enough about Mom, and now he’s bringing another life in this world to possibly screw up.

  Are people actually capable of such a change like that? No, no, they don’t!

  I’m not sure how much time passes. Devon held me on the side of the road, behind the minivan with the sun beating down on us until my cries slowed and I was able to tell him. “Do you want to call Lane and tell her or would you like me to?” he asks with eyes sparkling with concern. I tell him to make the call. Numb, I return to the van and buckle my seatbelt. I want to put this past me. I can’t spend anymore tears on him—these are for the innocent child. What can I do? Can I go to the police? I shake my head, lean back and close my eyes praying for this to be a nightmare.

  “What the fuck?” I jump, Devon waking me from his shout. I must have fallen asleep.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask groggily trying to get my bearings. Rubbing my eyes, I stretch. “What happened, babe?” I repeat since he didn’t respond.

  “I missed the turn somehow and we’re going the wrong way,” he says distracted between the road and navigation. “What the hell? This piece of shit didn’t tell me to turn back there.”

  Nervously, I ask, “How much further out of the way?” Devon shakes his head in irritation and doesn’t bother responding. “Don’t worry, honey. Maybe we’re meant to go this route. Things happen for a reason.” I try to calm his irritation.

  Our trip continues seamlessly. We stop for an early dinner. With it being Sunday, folks close early on Sunday if they are even open. I thoroughly enjoyed my hush puppies and grilled cheese. Evan takes after his mom ordering the same except he wanted French fries. Devon orders a monster burger oozing ketchup out of all sides. I held Baby Lane allowing her to stretch some before getting back into the car. We’re close to the Maryland and West Virginia border and have another three, maybe three and a half hours to drive. I cannot wait to get home. After dinner, I change Baby Lane and prepare a bottle that she is sure to want soon. Once we’re on the road, trees begin to pass by into the distance. Evan plays on Devon’s iPad, mesmerized with whatever game he’s playing. Home sweet home, here we come.

  Fifteen and a Half

  “No, please,” I cry.

  “Sweet Child, you are going to be fine.”

  “I might be fine, but I’m going to miss you. I don’t want you to leave.” Tears sting my eyes.

  “Lacey, you have become such an amazing woman. You don’t need me here any longer. It’s time for you and Devon to live your life.”

  “What? No! Devon and I love you being here.”

  “I know you do, but Mr. Walker has painted a pretty picture for me.” She wiggles her eyebrows. I laugh at her lightness.

  “Funny! What am I going to do without you here, Grandma Pain?”

  “You are going to live your life and enjoy that wonderful husband of yours. I’m very sorry Caine caused you so much pain. Never in a million years would I think my grandson was capable of what he did. I’m sorry you went through all of that. You know how strongly I feel about it.” I nod. “You have things under control here. Now, it’s time for me to live and have a little fun. And I know just the guy to do that.” She smiles and wiggles her eyebrows again while she nods.

  “I’m going to miss you,” I confess.

  “I’m going to miss you, too, but we’ll see each other often. Mr. Walker and I will live half the year in Maine and half the year in Florida. We’ll stop here and stay for awhile when we pass through. Plus, you’re going to visit us, too.” She stops to stare into my eyes. “You will visit, won’t you?”

  I slap her arm. “Of course. Don’t you dare think we won’t visit, but I have no interest in seeing Julie if we come see you in Florida.” I stand firmly.

  “Sweet Child, I would never have that woman anywhere near you or my babies.” She smiles.

  “Okay, I might be able to let you go. As long as you promise to visit and allow us to shack up with you when we visit you.” I giggle just before we both throw our arms around each other. Gosh, I love this woman!

  “Life's too short to kill time, life is perfectly timed... slowly killing you instead.”

  ~Simon Quperlier

  Sitting back, I pull out my Kindle and begin reading to, hopefully, still my racing mind as it continues to play out my father’s text. I cannot wait to find out what is happening next. I finished the first book in the trilogy yesterday while we lounged around, and now I’m dying to see how it’s going to play out in the sequel. I have been teasing Devon that I am in love with this fictional character and if he’s not careful, I’m going to leave him. He laughs and shakes his head knowing that I am only kidding.

  Almost to the end of chapter one, I notice the car slowing down. Why are we stopping already? I watch in horror as the lights on the console dim and then brighten, dim and then brighten… “Devon, what the hell? I don’t think that’s supposed to happen.” I turn and find him concentrating on his phone and then the road. “What’s going on?” I ask again.

  “Something’s wrong with the van, and I can’t get a signal on my phone.” I quickly pull my phone out of my bag and turn it on. Dead. I just charged it last night.

  “My phone won’t turn on. Here, give me your phone, and I’ll see if I can get a signal—” The van stops. Not the kind of stop when you hit the brakes, no, the van just dies. “Oh, my God, Devon what are we going to do?” I panic turning around to Evan and Baby Lane. “The kids! We’re stopped on the side of a highway. Those cars are going faster than seventy-five miles per hour. We’re going to die!”

  “Lacey, shut it please. Let me try to call the insurance company.” My body rocks as I try to calm my fears. We’re going to die! Why do things like this always happen to us? “FUCK!” Devon shouts. I jerk my head toward him not knowing if I should answer him or not. He’s pissed. “Dammit, my phone is out of battery.” He hooks up the charger to his phone. If the car is dead, how can it charge his phone? “There must be enough juice because it says it’s charging.” Wow, he read my mind. I sit quietly and al
low my insides to freak out while Devon gets his pissiness under control. I turn around to Evan who is still playing. I roll down my window. It’s ninety-six degrees outside the last time I checked. Oh, this sucks. I wish I would have splurged and got Devon the iPad with the service plan. We would probably be able to contact someone if that were the case. Frustrated and sweating, I open the van door on the side away from traffic to cool the children. Evan finally peeks up and looks around. “Lacey, my phone booted, can you call the insurance people while I check under the hood?”

  “Sure,” I answer and begin dialing. Luckily, I was only on hold for two minutes. “Thank you for calling ‘blah, blah, blah’ auto insurance where we charge you an enormous amount of money to give you piece of mind, but don’t ever make a claim, or we’ll increase that deductible…’ this is Stephanie, may I have the telephone in which you are calling from in case we get disconnected?” Crap, I got lost berating insurance company practices.

  Damn, that was a mouth full. “Yes.” I rattle off Devon’s cellphone number and explain the problem.

  “I’m not showing any tow services in Maryland. Do you mind if I check in West Virginia since you just crossed the line?”

  “Sure, no problem,” I respond. Elevator music plays a beat I’m assuming is meant to calm nerves. I’m not too sure about that at this moment.

  “Hello, Mrs. Holmes?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I respond.

  “I apologize for the wait but with your vehicle location in another state, there are some issues we are trying to resolve and it shouldn’t be much longer.”

  She clicks over just as I’m about to say, “It’s not our vehicle.”

  “Hey, Dev.” I lean out the window and call for him. He walks toward my window. “They have me on hold and said there aren’t any tow services to help us in Maryland, so she’s trying to get us one from West Virginia.”

  “Seriously?” he asks. I nod and watch him disappear under the hood.