“Cole needs a hospital, Ethan,” I blurted out. I watched a strange calmness fall over his face.
“Cole’s going to die for what he did to me, Amy. To you.”
Panic threatened to wash through me when I heard the disdain dripping from the way he said Cole’s name, and I bit my lip in an attempt to hold myself together. Words tumbled from my mouth before I had time to fully think them through.
“Let him go, Ethan. Please. Let him go and I will come back to California with you.”
“You won’t.”
I nodded stiffly. “Ethan, I will. Just, please, let him go. He is hurt and you and I can’t walk away from this together if he dies.”
Ethan seemed to be weighing my words thoughtfully. “Two minutes ago you couldn’t even kiss me. Now you are saying you will leave this Podunk town to be with me? Which is it, Amy?” His gaze cut into me and I felt the heat in my cheeks. This time though, my blushing came from being questioned about my motives, not from a sense of embarrassment. I held my breath when I felt Ethan’s grip on my wrists lessen a bit.
I did my best to relax and focus on Ethan, exactly as he wanted it. “Ethan, you win. Please, just let him go. I’ll go back with you, and we will get past this. I’m sorry. I am.” I pleaded with him, and Cole’s face crossed my mind vividly, the only thing that was keeping me calm under the current circumstances. I listened intently during the silence between Ethan and me but I could not hear anything that told me Cole may have come around. I pushed the thought from my mind. I had to stay focused on the task at hand.
“Prove it,” Ethan uttered, his voice barely a whisper.
“What?”
“Prove to me that you want to be with me again, Amy.” Ethan leaned forward, this time pushing his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and fought the urge to struggle to get away from him. The familiar roughness and taste of alcohol made it impossible to trick my mind into believing I was kissing anyone but him. I endured his lips crushed against mine for what seemed like an eternity before I felt his hands release my wrists and slowly slide down to my side, mauling at the hem of my sweater.
A surge of panic rushed through me. It was only a matter of seconds before Ethan’s wandering hands discovered the gun concealed in the waistband of my jeans.
It was now or never. Everything came down to this moment, right now. The outcome of this cruel situation depended on what occurred in the next few seconds and I conjured up Cole’s face in my mind. Not the battered and bruised cruelty of his face right now, but the sleepy smiling face that I had been lucky enough to wake up to for the past few mornings.
That image was what gave me the strength I needed, and I channeled every ounce of energy I had left within me and pushed Ethan as hard as I could off of me, causing him to stagger backward slightly. Unfortunately, Ethan was much heavier than I had anticipated and he was steadier on his feet than I expected. I managed to push him away from me, but when I struggled to remove the gun from behind my back and then get it pointed in Ethan’s general direction, he was one step ahead of me and used the back of his hand to hit me hard across the face. The power behind his swing knocked me off the bed onto the floor, and I dropped the gun when I instinctively tried to break my fall.
My face stung sharply and I groped wildly around me on the floor for the gun, but I could not see it. Ethan was muttering a string of curse words and calling me names. It was not until he was quiet that I looked toward him and saw the cruel smile on his face glaring back at me. He had my gun in his hand and it was pointed directly at me. I heard the familiar click as he released the safety on it.
I looked up at him from the floor, a massive wave of defeat rushing over me painfully. This truly was how it was going to end. I had tried to escape Ethan and his abusive ways and I had failed. Now, he stood here in front of me with me on my knees before him in complete surrender, just as he wanted it. He had all the power he desired and he would use it to make sure I paid the price for leaving him the way I did.
I will kill you, he had said, and those words seemed to have been spoken an eternity ago. I had come so far from where and who I was when he had first uttered those words to me, and yet I was right back there again. Ethan meant each word and he was going to get the chance to prove his intentions were real.
“This could have ended differently, Amy,” he was saying, and I noticed that he almost sounded sad at the thought. Almost.
I shook my head, tears stinging at my eyes again. “No, Ethan, it couldn’t have. I would prefer it this way over going back to California with you.” As I said these words, I realized with a twinge of shock that I did mean it.
After all I had been through to get away from him and to build a life of my own here, I would have rather died at his hands right now than be made to walk away from Park’s Peak and the remnants of a happy life it could have held for me.
Death was better than having to walk away from Cole.
Ethan let out a sound resembling a growl and I thought he was preparing to pull the trigger. I squeezed my eyes shut, so the pain and impact of him kicking me hard in the stomach came as a complete surprise. The wind was knocked out of me and I clutched at my stomach in pain as I fell over onto my side.
“Do not talk back to me like that, Amy!” he yelled with the gun still pointed in my general direction, but I could see through squinted eyes that he was not focusing on his aim.
“Just kill me,” I said, rolling onto my back with my arms covering my stomach protectively. “Please, Ethan, just do it now. Don’t drag this out.”
“Drag it out?” he retorted. “You mean, the way you dragged out how long it took for me to find you? Consider yourself lucky, Amy, because it is crossing my mind right now to drag it out, as you say, for a lot longer than this so that you know exactly how it feels to want something and not get it.”
I struggled to sit up, the pain subsiding slightly and my breath calming a bit. His words were not making sense to me, which didn’t matter because all I could think about was the fact that I had lost my chance to help Cole.
“Ethan, if it’s revenge you want, take it from me. But, please, if you ever cared for me at all, I’m asking you, begging you, please let Cole live. He has no part in this, you know that.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me, holding the gun steadier than I would have expected for a man who had undoubtedly been drinking for days.
“Amy,” he began calmly, and I feared his sudden calmness more than I ever would his rage, “I told you what would happen if you ever left me. Collateral damage or not, Lover Boy is not going to survive tonight, and his little rendezvous with you will be the reason for that. You knew better, Amy.”
I lowered my head and let his words sink in. No amount of begging, pleading, or tantrum throwing would help Cole now. Ethan’s very intention was to kill him so that I knew his death was my fault. With that said, I hoped to God he would kill me as well, as I could not bear the thought of living out my days with the guilt of Cole’s death weighing massively on my shoulders.
I would never be able to forgive myself, and I sure as hell would never want to wake up each day with Ethan because I also knew that he would make sure to remind me of the reason for Cole’s death as many times as he possibly could. Ethan didn’t care whether or not I was happy. He only cared that punishment was dealt to me for my disobedience.
Besides, he was right. I did know better. I had spent the past two months sleeping with a gun tucked under my pillow and triple-locking my doors for exactly that reason—because I knew better.
I knew Ethan would be indescribably furious. I knew he would search high and low and not rest until he found me. I knew he would hunt me down and wait for his moment to uproot my attempt at my own life. Mostly, I knew that he would show up to reclaim me as his own and that he would not let anything or anyone stand in his way of that.
And, because I had known all of this before I ever made a move to get on that bus more than two months ago and leave him, there was no way to den
y that Cole’s injuries and potential death were truly my fault. I was to blame, and I had to live with that.
However, my fault or not, I did not plan to go out without at least saying how I truly felt. If I was going to die tonight no matter how things went, then I damn well planned to say the things that I had longed to speak out loud for the past eight years.
I crawled onto my knees, averting my gaze while I did so, and then set my jaw into a straight line and looked into Ethan’s eyes with a renewed confidence. I spoke clearly and defiantly.
“Yes, Ethan, I knew better. That may be the case but I can tell you right now that everything, all of this, all the turmoil and paranoia and the knowledge that you would be crazy enough to search me out, everything was worth it to me. And do you want to know why, Ethan? The answer has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with Cole.” I glared up at him and was surprised that he remained expressionless and motionless. “I met Cole because of you,” I continued. “Everything you have done, every time you hit me, every time you cursed at me and yelled at me, everything. It all led me to Cole. So, I guess, for that, I should thank you.”
Ethan did not move and I swore, even just for a moment, I saw his resolve falter slightly. “Amy,” he said in a low voice. I heard it as the warning it was meant to be, but I seemed to have channeled my inner confidence and continued to bare my soul with the words I had kept inside for so long.
“I know you’re angry, Ethan. And drunk, for that matter. But you always were anyway. I have never given you a reason up until the day I defied you and left you for you to ever be angry with me. Not once. I obeyed you and did everything you ever asked of me, things I would never dream of doing had I thought I had an option not to. You never cared for me, or loved me. You thought you owned me, and you still think you do. But you don’t, Ethan. I know that will make you even more furious, but I am telling you now. You can go ahead and kill me now, but I want you to hear it from me loud and clear that on this day, the day you killed me out of jealousy and rage, you did not own me. And you never will.” Tears were running down my face as I spoke, but I did not realize it until I grew silent. Ethan was staring at me as though he was not quite sure what to make of my declaration.
It was in this moment that I believed he’d made the conscious decision he was actually going to kill me tonight. Up until then, I think he thought I would back down, apologize for my sins against him, and go back to being his little puppet on a string in California, my head hung low in shame the whole way home.
When I showed him I wouldn’t let him treat me as he had before, he seemed unsure of how else to react. In anger and in drunkenness, putting words together and having a decent conversation were never his strong points. With that said, I believed he decided to give up and deal with the situation with less dialogue and more action.
“You’re a stupid, stupid girl, Amy.” He shook his head from side to side.
I nodded in agreement as I watched him reposition his hand around the butt of the gun in preparation of pulling the trigger.
“That may be the case, Ethan,” I said in a fearful whisper, “but leaving you was the smartest thing I ever did. Cole loves me and I love him. That is more than I will ever be able to say for you.” I bit my bottom lip and stared into the dark barrel of the gun pointed at me. If those were the last words I ever spoke, at least they were the truest ones as well.
I continued to stare into the dark hole of the gun barrel, awaiting death. I did not dare look Ethan in the eye, as I refused to give him that kind of satisfaction.
Instead, I saw his finger on the trigger grow white as he made to press it, and I closed my eyes in that instant, hearing only a roaring sound in my ears.
The loud crack of the gunshot deafened me and I flinched. I never felt a thing.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Only seconds had passed, but when I opened my eyes, it took me a few moments to grow accustomed to the light in the room, probably due to having my eyes squeezed shut so tightly, and for me to register my surroundings.
Ethan was laid out on his back beside the bed with his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling above and a small dark hole displayed on his chest. A dark bloom of crimson blood seeped from it, spreading across his shirt, dropping to form a small dark puddle on the floor beside him.
“Amy, are you okay? Amy?”
A voice was saying my name but it sounded far away. I tore my gaze away from Ethan’s body and looked to my right, seeing the source of the voice.
“Jeremy?” I sounded foreign to my own ears, as if the voice coming from my own throat was not mine.
I didn’t understand what was going on around me. There were questions I thought I should be asking but they did not form so that I could speak them aloud. Ethan was lying in front of me and Jeremy was on his knees beside me.
Ethan was dead, and I was not.
The realization cut through the fog in my mind like a knife. I was not going to die at the hands of Ethan because he was dead. Ethan was dead. I was still alive. I heard the sound of sobbing and it was not until Jeremy pulled me by the shoulders to him that I realized the sobs were my own. Tears ran freely down my cheeks, the heat of them feeling like burning fire against the contrast of my clammy, cold skin.
“It’s going to be okay, Amy. You’re fine now,” Jeremy was saying in a soothing voice, clutching me to him desperately.
Through my tears, I attempted to speak but my words were incomprehensible. I could feel him shaking his head as he shushed me, continuing to tell me I was fine. It took a few moments for me to realize it, but I was pretty sure that Jeremy had tears spilling from his eyes as well.
My mind began to clear slightly and I became more aware of what was going on around me and the sounds throughout my house. I pulled away from Jeremy’s embrace and stared at him, my eyes wide in fear. I’d been right, his cheeks were wet with tears.
“Cole,” was all I managed to say. Fear for him gripped me entirely and I searched Jeremy’s face for some answer to my unspoken question.
“Cole is going to be okay, Amy,” Jeremy said, rubbing my arms gently. “The paramedics are outside and they’re taking him to the hospital. He is banged up pretty good, but they told me he will be all right.”
I started to tremble. Maybe I was in shock but I didn’t care. The relief that flooded through me overshadowed all the other emotions that threatened to overtake me. I closed my eyes and exhaled a large breath, savoring the sound of Jeremy’s words.
Cole was going to be all right. The damage Ethan had inflicted on him had not killed him after all. He was going to be okay. I stole a glance in the direction of Ethan’s lifeless body and realized that as long as Cole was going to live, I cared about nothing else.
Jeremy looked at me with an expression of worry and confusion when I wiped away my tears, allowing a small smile to cross my bruised face.
The nightmare was over. For good.
Nothing else mattered now.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
SIX MONTHS LATER
I propped three shot glasses up on the bar and filled them expertly in one steady pour before sliding them across to the three glammed-up women who were awaiting them anxiously. They slid a twenty dollar bill in my direction and turned their backs on me, returning to their high-pitched laughter and drunken dance moves.
I wiped down the bar where the shot glasses had been and made my way back through the swinging doors that led to the office. I peered in and saw Cole there, his brows furrowed in concentration as he studied the pieces of paper in his hand. A coffee cup was on the desk beside him, steam rising steadily from it, and I knew without a doubt he would have Baileys in it. He looked focused but comfortable as he leaned back in his chair with the tips of his boots showing above the height of the desk. He had his legs elevated and crossed on an old stool. As I leaned against the door jamb with my arms crossed and watched him, he looked up.
“Are you spying on me, Ame
s?” he smirked, setting the papers down. I shook my head and made my way across the room, leaning down to kiss him gently on the lips. I peered down at the stool in front of him.
“Is your leg bothering you?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
Cole shrugged it off, but I knew he only rested his feet on that stool when his leg was aching. It had been fractured in two places and cleanly broken in another during the truck accident. He moved with a slight limp, but extensive physical therapy had helped him to walk almost normally once the bones had healed. For the most part, he got along quite fine, but every now and then his leg would ache profusely, causing him to disappear into the back office of the pub when he was there or take a morning or afternoon off from a construction job he and his crew were working on. The way both of us saw it, if that was the only repercussion of everything we’d gone through on that night, then we were both going to be just fine. However, I still worried about him. I knew how much it irked him to be limited in the amount of time he could stand and bend.
Cole reached out and grabbed me, pulling me onto his lap. “I’m fine, Ames. I swear. Is the crowd dying down a bit out there?”
“Yeah, that group of rowdy college boys has moved on. I stopped serving two of them, so they will either sober up or find somewhere else to be obnoxious,” I said.
Cole smirked. “Oh, Amy, you ruined all their fun.”
I knew he was joking but I punched him playfully in the arm, anyway. “By the state they were in, I’d say they’ve been having fun since about noon.”
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