The Breakaway

by Michelle Davidson Argyle

  Her heart pounded. He was looking at her with such desperation, but how could she possibly promise him such a thing when all she wanted now was to feel some tiny measure of freedom inside her own heart? She had thought she was free in so many ways, but now that she had seen her mother and couldn’t reach her, she was starting to see freedom differently.

  She closed her eyes. It was clear to her now why it frightened Eric to kill her. He was afraid to lose her—to lose anybody he cared for. As long as he had someone with him, he didn’t have to face himself or the reality of how much his own father’s mistakes had hurt him—and changed him. His father had murdered his mother and sister, and it was clear now how deeply that ran inside him. It was as deep and painful as her feelings for her mother. If he killed her, Evelyn might not forgive him, and he would face even more of the loneliness that frightened him so much.

  For the first time, she looked into his eyes and saw a glimmer of the real person behind the anger and pain. He was kind and compassionate. He was hurt. He had been hurting for years.

  “Naomi?” he asked, almost pleading. “Can you promise me?”

  The doorbell rang. It had to be the pizza.

  He let go of her shoulders, but didn’t move. He was waiting for an answer. She looked up and saw the baseball hat of the delivery boy silhouetted through the beveled glass. The brief thought of what might happen if she stood up and yanked the door open raced through her mind, but instead she looked back at Eric and chewed her lip. She had to give him an answer.

  “I promise,” she said quietly, hoping it didn’t sound too hollow.

  He studied her face before helping her stand. She cried out in pain. “My ankle’s broken. It kills!”

  “I’ll bet it’s just a sprain. Let’s get you on the couch.” He helped her to the living room where she sat down with a heavy sigh and then watched him open the door to pay for the pizza.

  Later, as she nibbled at a piece of pizza and held an ice pack to her ankle, she mumbled repeated apologies for betraying his trust. He watched her from across the room, but didn’t say anything.

  JESSE CAME home two days later. She rushed into his arms. Seeing him clicked her feelings into place. She had made the right decision. Staying with him was her choice, the best choice, the only choice now. He was all she needed, because with him she could be strong.

  “I missed you so much,” she whimpered into his shoulder as he pulled her tightly to him.

  “I missed you too, Naomi.” His voice was soft and fragile, as if it might break.

  Everything about him made her heart melt—the way she knew every detail of his face but could see there was more underneath, more to discover. The smell of him wrapped around her once again. His arms were protective. When he kissed her, she knew he was in love with her. He had to be in love with her, the way he looked like he might kill someone when he spotted the bruises on her face.

  He left her sitting on the couch and went into Eric’s office. As soon as the yelling started, Evelyn pulled her upstairs and told her to wait in her room.

  “I’ll make sure Jesse comes up to see you.” Before turning to close the door, she gave Naomi a gentle hug and kissed her on the cheek over the bruise from Eric’s knuckles. The kiss was soft and smelled of roses from her perfume. Eric’s yelling drifted up the stairs.

  “Evelyn, what if he tells Jesse to leave again? I don’t think I can handle that.” Panic started in her heart and rippled through her body. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “If he leaves, I’ll have nothing left. Nothing. I can’t—”

  Evelyn touched her face and she opened her eyes.

  “Sweetheart, please calm down. Jesse will be fine. He’s not going anywhere, I promise. I’ll make sure they talk through things without killing each other.” She turned and closed the door behind her without fastening the locks.

  Burying herself beneath the bedcovers, she trembled from the excitement of seeing Jesse again. Despite Eric’s attempts to keep her ankle iced and wrapped, it still throbbed. It hadn’t broken, but it was a terrible sprain. It didn’t matter now. She held onto her pillow and looked at the stack of books on her nightstand. Her mother’s book was at the bottom. She looked away.

  WHEN JESSE let himself in an hour later, she looked him in the eyes. “Are you angry with me for trying to leave? It wasn’t that I wanted to leave you. It’s just that I saw how bad it was not to try. I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

  He approached the bed. “I’m not sure I understand completely, but you don’t seem like you’re too eager to try again.”

  “No,” she said and lowered her eyes. “I want to see my parents, but a part of me knows it would be awful. It would be pointless, and if I have you it’s okay that I don’t see them.” She looked up. “It’s just that I found an article on the table, and there were these highlighted paragraphs in yellow about abusive behavior and emotional bonding. It made me realize how I’ve been—I mean how you’ve manipulated—I mean ... so you’re not angry with me?”

  “No.” He tightened his jaw. “I’m angry with Eric, but that’s over now.”

  “Really?”

  Nodding, he sat down and curled a hand around her cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you—for any pain you’ve felt while we’ve kept you here.”

  She held her breath and looked at him in the dim light from the lamp. Her breaths turned into quiet, excited gasps.

  “I know you’ve never meant to hurt me,” she answered carefully. “I could never be angry with you.”

  “I think I already knew you would say that.” He inched closer as his smile faded to a frown. “Nobody will ever hurt you again.” He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned in to kiss her. She melted against him, pulling him on top of her.

  XXVII

  THE SUN WAS SHINING THROUGH THE window when she woke. Jesse was next to her, his arms wrapped tightly around her bare middle. She let out a happy sigh and snuggled into him.

  “Good morning,” he said, squeezing her tighter. “Did you sleep alright?”

  “You have no idea,” she said, laughing as she twisted around to look at him. “I didn’t know it could be that good. Brad never ....” Her voice faded away.

  “Brad never what?”

  She forced herself to shrug as if what she had realized was nothing. Only, it was everything.

  “He was never like you,” she said, thinking about how her body didn’t hurt like most times she had slept with Brad.

  Jesse’s eyebrows knotted. “You haven’t told me everything about him, have you? He hurt you more than you let on.”

  She looked away. Her body tensed as she remembered Brad’s bed and the smell of his cologne on the pillows. His quilt was old and fraying on the edges. She used to wind the strings around her fingers as Brad told her to hold still so he could do whatever he wanted to her. He claimed it was to please her, but it never did. Not really.

  “He liked things a certain way, is all,” she said. “He thought pain was what I wanted—what turned me on. It turned him on, but I ... it was too much, and I was too afraid to tell him because I knew he wouldn’t stop. I know this sounds crazy, but I thought it was how sex was supposed to be. I thought it was normal. I just ... I never knew any different.” Cold seeped into her toes and crawled up her legs, creeping toward her heart.

  “Keep going. Get it out.” He stroked her face.

  “I never saw it until now,” she stuttered, keeping her eyes on his. “Last night with you was perfect. You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t force me to do anything.” She shuddered as the iciness in her heart filled her head. She felt like she had been dunked in water and couldn’t breathe. “It wasn’t all about you.” She focused on his hand stroking her face. It was the only warm thing on her body.

  “Of course it wasn’t all about me. Naomi, I’ve waited a long time for this, but I have to admit it used to be for selfish reasons. Now it’s not.”

>   She waited for him to say the three little words she longed to hear. Instead, he kissed her.

  WHEN THEY went downstairs, hand-in-hand, Evelyn looked up from her cereal, her eyes widening. “Good morning,” she stuttered.

  Jesse smiled. “No jokes, Evelyn.”

  “Didn’t cross my mind.” She went back to her cereal.

  “Good.” He squeezed Naomi’s hand. “I’m going to take a shower. You get some breakfast, okay?”

  “Sure.” She went straight for the cereal cupboard and poured herself a bowl.

  “Sugar’s over here,” Evelyn said from the table. She grinned as Naomi sat down across from her. “So, was it good?”

  Blushing, she snatched the sugar spoon from the bowl. “Uh, yeah, it was.” She didn’t know how it was possible to feel so confused and satisfied at the same time. She had never felt that way with Brad.

  Evelyn reached forward and touched her hand. Her eyes were troubled, but happy too. “Please let me know if you need anything. If you have any questions or problems, I’m here for you, okay? You need to make sure you’re being safe. We don’t want you to get—”

  “Jesse’s taking care of all of that.” She shifted in her chair. “I’m alright.”

  Nodding, Evelyn smiled. “Do you think you’re in love with him now?”

  She took a big bite of cereal and shrugged. “I don’t know what it would feel like,” she said through her chewing.

  “From the way you’re glowing, I’d say you are.”

  She swallowed and took another bite. To say she was glowing sounded cheesy, but at the same time Evelyn wasn’t far off the mark.

  FOR THE next two weeks Jesse spent every night in her room. They stayed up late, talking about Italy and what they would do when they got there.

  “I’ve only been there once,” he said as she relaxed in his arms and looked into his eyes. She couldn’t get enough of them. “When we’ve traveled everywhere you want to visit, we’ll go to other countries. I like Ireland the best.”

  She giggled. “Why? Because you’re Irish?”

  “My ancestors are Irish, yes.” He squeezed her. “Do you know where yours are from?”

  “No.”

  “We’ll find out.” Pausing, he brushed her cheek with his hand. “Unless that would make you uncomfortable. You might not want to think about your family.”

  “It’s okay. I knew both my grandpas when I was little. I remember my mom’s dad used to give me M&Ms. He always picked out the green ones for me. I like green.”

  “M&Ms?”

  “The color. Your eyes are green, you know.”

  “I know, believe it or not.” He laughed and she snuggled into him. She was almost nineteen. She didn’t feel nineteen. In a lot of ways, she still felt small and childish, but Jesse helped that go away. When he held her, she was strong and happy at the same time. He was the only person who had ever made her feel that way.

  With a heavy sigh, she traced her fingers over his lips. They were soft and smiling. She touched his eyes, his delicate lashes, his freckles. “Who are you?” she asked softly. “Will I ever know?”

  His smile faded, but not from anger. He was contemplating an answer. “You’ll know me better in a while,” he finally said, and shifted across the mattress. “There are things I want to tell you. I’ve been trying to build up the courage.”

  “You know you can tell me anything.”

  “I know.”

  When he leaned in to kiss her, she wrapped her arms around him and thought about sunflowers beneath an Italian sky.

  THE NEXT night she woke up at one in the morning. Jesse’s side of the bed was cold, and she twisted around to see him standing by the window. In the dim light, she made out his expression. He looked confused.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He glanced at her and folded his arms. “I’ve had my car packed up for two days now.”

  “You have a car? I thought you always drove one of Steve’s cars or took a cab.”

  “None of them know about it. I bought it while I was away. It’s parked down the street.”

  She stirred beneath the sheets. So that was why he had left again. He was dressed. His hair was ruffled from when she had run her fingers through it earlier. She glanced at the clock for the third time in a row, and a sick dread fell over her. “Why did you buy a car?” she asked. “Why is it packed?”

  He turned to her and frowned, his eyes filled with pain.

  “I need to tell you some things. I’ve put it off for too long, but it’s time.” He unfolded his arms. “There’s some stuff that might make you see me differently.”

  She pulled the sheets closer to her, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “Is it about you stealing?”

  “Yes, and it’s about Evelyn too.” He took a step forward, his face eerily solemn in the dim light. For the first time she believed the vision in her head; dressed head-to-toe in black, he wouldn’t make a sound, because she knew that was how he would pull off something like that—noiselessly, steadily, and with great precision.

  He glanced at the clock and turned back to her.

  “You see, I hired someone to ... no, you wouldn’t understand. I have to go further back.”

  He turned to the window again. “By the time I was your age—almost nineteen—I was most of my way through college. My father wanted me to be a professor of English, just like him, but I chose architecture instead. I finished school, but had to find an internship before I could get licensed, so I started looking around. I had several offers, but Steve’s was the most promising. He owns his own firm, as you know—prominent and respected, very accomplished. I was thrilled to work with him. It was a fresh start far away from ....”

  He trailed off, folded his arms again, and continued to look out the window.

  She leaned forward. “Far away from what?”

  “From things I wanted to stop doing. Stealing, as you put it.” He looked down at the floor and took a deep breath. “I had a group of friends. We liked to test our skills, I guess you could say, and we found ways to get whatever we wanted without getting caught. I was caught once with a good friend of mine, back when I didn’t know what I was doing, but it was only a minor offence.”

  He let out a short laugh filled with sadness. Naomi rested her head on the pillow. “I’ve heard Steve say you’re very good at what you do. Architecture, I mean. Didn’t he say he was going to sell the firm to you? He doesn’t want anybody else to have it.”

  He smiled. “I guess so.”

  “What about literature and all the things you know?”

  His smile faded. “Like I said, I want to focus on other things now, but none of that fixes ... you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Look at you. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re perfect, Naomi. So innocent. So willing to please everybody. You’ve decided to stay with me, and I honestly think you might be in love with me. Nobody’s ever felt that way about me before, and until a few hours ago I was convinced all of this might work—Italy and everything.”

  She sat up. She felt like she might snap in half. She couldn’t bear to lose him. Not now.

  “What do you mean?” she stuttered. “You’re not coming now? I thought we were going to stay together. These last few nights we’ve been so close. I thought it was your way of telling me you love me—that you’re going to stay with me forever. You said you would.”

  He let out a sigh and lowered his eyes. “When Steve took me on as his intern, I thought my life was changing. It was, I think, until an old friend of mine called six months later. I hadn’t talked to him for a long time, but he’d been a good friend and I owed him a lot. He needed my help to pull off a jewelry heist. I couldn’t say no. He needed some fast money, so I guess he was in some sort of trouble. He wouldn’t tell me what it was. Since he couldn’t pull off the job himself, it had to be me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s what I’m good at.” His words ca
me out snappy, and Naomi backed away as he continued. “The point is I decided to help him. I found out Steve’s wife—Evelyn—worked as the manager of a jewelry store. It was too easy. My internship didn’t pay well, so I told my friend yes. I shouldn’t have done it, I know, but it was too tempting. I was living in a shitty apartment with barely enough money to buy a few groceries and pay my rent. It was a no-brainer to get some extra cash until my internship was over, but it was the first time I’d be pulling off something so risky on my own. That’s why I decided to use Evelyn. It made things easier—one less security measure I’d have to figure out. I never intended for her to get hurt. I had no idea.”

  “You hurt her?”

  He looked up, his jaw clenched. “I didn’t hurt her. It was that damned idiot I hired to steal her keys who stabbed her. I told him not to threaten her. I mean, hell, she was my boss’s wife. It was supposed to look like a random purse snatch. He was going to knock her out, steal her wallet, and replace her existing store keys with a matching fake set, but she was stronger than he’d planned. When he pulled her into an alley on her way to her car, she fought back and he threatened her with a knife. I guess she still fought back, and that’s when he stabbed her in the chest, took her purse and ran. Complete idiot. He gave me the purse and told me what happened, but I had no idea it was so serious until I stopped by Steve’s firm a few hours later. I had to do the job that same night, because I knew as soon as Evelyn reported her stolen keys, the locks and other security devices would probably be changed the next morning—if they hadn’t already been changed. I was willing to take the risk, but then I ran into Steve. I’d left some stuff I needed in my workspace, and I passed him on my way out of the building.”