Heart in a Box

by Ally Sky

  "You broke enough things already." I wave my hand at him.

  "Marry me."

  I stare at him wide-eyed, and he doesn't take his eyes off me. We are in the midst of a giants’ battle, but the giant in front of me has lost his mind.

  "Jesus Christ!" Laughter bursts out of me, rolling from my belly out until my eyes begin to tear. "You're disturbed, you know that?"

  I have to stop laughing, but how can I? It's so ridiculous!

  "Marry me." He doesn't move, his feet remain frozen and firm. The only thing that gives him away is his chest going up and down.

  "I'm going home." I giggle another little laugh as the effort to stay serious fails. "You can tidy up the romantic picnic you've organized, and return from la-la-land. You've proposed to me in this place before, and we both know how that ended, so forgive me if I refuse your seductive offer."

  His silence takes its place between us when we exchange glances once more. Colin's eyes flash as I shake my head and lock my jaw so as not to laugh again at his delusional offer. I turn my back on him and walk across the grass toward the path that will take me far from the man who, without a doubt, has gone mad.

  Marry him? In what parallel universe does he think it's going to happen? In what parallel universe does he think I will make that mistake again?

  I don't think so, mister. You can go back to your business, to the gym, to the stupid cheerleaders who fall in your trap, but you can't come back to me.

  Chapter 24

  Marry me.

  I wake up in panic from a dream, sit up panting and hurry to look at Vivian's empty bed, forgetting for a moment she is staying at my mom's.

  My fingers travel to my stomach, to the hidden scar along my bikini line, no longer a secret. Now Colin knows what I've been hiding. He knows what was taken from me, and his guilt probably caused him to stop thinking logically. I'm sure that's the whole story. He doesn't really want to marry me, he simply doesn't know how to atone for his actions, and marriage seems to him like an easy solution.

  Why don't the men in my life apologize? Why is it so hard for them? I'm not sure I'd forgive them, but I think I deserve a sincere apology, mostly from my father. I can understand Colin. I may not agree with the way he behaved, but it's hard for me to imagine what I would do if I were in his shoes. If anyone had threatened to hurt Colin, there is a fair chance that I would have run away just to protect him. I close my eyes tightly and the thoughts travel through my head. I picture Colin in uniform, his weapon drawn, walking in the alleys of a strange, ruined city. He could have died more than once. He could have come back in a coffin, and my father knew it while it was happening. Colin himself said he sent me money every month—money I didn't know existed, instead reaching for my father, who betrayed me.

  I lie down, pull the thin blanket up to my shoulders and turn on my side. My father threatened Colin that he would end up like Brock. My mom thinks it was a futile threat and that the scumbag died in a car accident. I want to believe it, but what do I know? A month ago, if someone told me that Colin had left because of my father, I would have laughed at them. But maybe he could kill someone to take revenge…God knows he has behaved like a caveman more than once and, today, I know he is not the good man I thought he was. He's the villain in the story, and Colin the victim, but it's still not a good enough reason to marry Colin. It is not a good enough reason for anything. Now I can only hope that my heart will agree with my head’s conclusion and I can stop imagining myself standing in a bridal gown beside him and becoming his wife.

  My morning is sluggish. It turns out that when you have no job to rush to or a girl to take to daycare, time becomes a fluid concept. Preparing breakfast takes me half an hour, and when I'm done I find myself standing in front of my wardrobe, staring at it, aware that this is probably the most boring wardrobe in the world. My jeans are neatly folded and arranged in a pile of colors from dark to bright. My pile of shirts is all shades of gray and black. Here and there a white shirt shimmers. As a mom of a little girl, I learned that the white color is superfluous and its sole purpose is to make me mournful of trying to remove stains of ketchup, juice, or mud. I choose black jeans, a gray t-shirt I don’t remember buying,, and my sneakers. My green eyes stare at me from the mirror and show fatigue, and my hair refuses to take shape, which requires me to pick it up with a rubber band. I grab my bag, leave the bedroom, lock the house and get into my new car, ready to shop for groceries.

  I can't go on like this for much longer. At some point I will have to find a job, a stage I reject in frustration. It won't be simple, and if I don't turn myself to the task, the money in my bank account will run out, and I won't allow that.

  My shopping cart fills up as I walk through the aisles of the huge Tesco branch and wonder what to eat for lunch. On the one hand, there is the possibility of returning home and cooking, and on the other hand, to sit in a restaurant and order some pampering portion. Indeed, the choice is impossible. A choice I didn’t have until a few weeks ago. I would eat my lunches on the bench in the parking lot of the shopping center opposite the furniture store, almost always a sandwich I brought from home.

  I can't ignore the change in my life since Colin's been back, since he put money into my bank account. Even Viv's birthday party was something I couldn't organize myself. He did everything.

  Something stops my shopping cart and I look straight up, paling as Jimmy the bully grabs the cart and his body blocks the aisle.

  "Looki here, it's Young's lady." He stares at me menacingly before smiling wickedly at Craig, standing beside him.

  "I don't think he'll be happy if we bother her," Craig mutters to his partner.

  "Are we bothering her?" Jimmy chuckles and moves the cart toward me with a little push that make me jumps back in panic. "Are we bothering you?"

  "You better listen to your friend," I mutter in a trembling voice. "Colin won't be happy."

  "Colin won't be happy," Jimmy mimics my voice.

  "What do you want?" I tighten my grip on the bar. "Didn't you get everything you were owed?"

  "We can always ask for more." He raises an eyebrow and my guts turn, sending a tremor to my feet. "We were sorry to hear Colin's old man died, we enjoyed doing business with him."

  You've enjoyed doing business with him? You took advantage of him and blackmailed him and Colin, ruined my life, and you're still smiling?

  "I don't think the police will be happy to hear about the business you've done," the words roll out of my mouth without me thinking about the consequences, without stopping to figure out how dumb it is to threaten them.

  "The police?" Jimmy pauses for a moment, the smile on his face growing as if he has received a gift he's been waiting for. The next second he pushes the cart aside, and now there's nothing between us, nothing to stop him from jumping me.

  "If I were you, I'd be careful." My heart is racing. "Colin is waiting for me outside, and in a minute he'll come to see what's keeping me."

  "Colin is waiting outside?" He's getting too close, not believing the lie I just invented. He clutches my arm tightly and pulls me to him, pinning me to his chest. I barely breathe, barely standing on my feet, his mouth pressed close to my ear. "I'm not the right man to lie to, little bird." The words are laced with venom.

  "I'm not lying . . ."

  "The next time we meet we might be in a much darker place than this." The air he breathes in my ear chills me.

  I wonder whether to scream, but it might put me in a bigger problem—they might run away, but they'd find me later.

  Damn you, Colin! You told me the matter with them was closed!

  "What do you want from me?" I pray that he'll let me go.

  "I don't know yet," he whispers, "but I'm sure I'll be able to think of something. I've never had a redhead."

  "Jimmy," Craig interferes nervously, "enough playing, we have work to do." At least one of them understands that it's better to let me go.

  "I hope we'll see each other again, Birdy." He rel
eases my arm and I run towards the door, haunted by his wicked laugh.

  "It was fun!" I hear from a distance. I don't stop for a moment, bursting out the door and running all the way to my car.

  Just wait for the police to find you. We'll see how much fun you have then!

  What am I going to do now? My heart goes wild, my hands hold the steering wheel, and I press hard on the accelerator and hurry. I'll file a complaint with the police. The store must have security cameras, and the cops will see how those two bothered me. They probably know them. Maybe they're waiting for someone to dare to complain.

  My thoughts don't stop there, and the understanding seeps through me like a ton of bricks. If the police interrogate them, God only knows what they'll find out, and the thugs won't be too glad. Perhaps they're only the executive arm of a much larger and dangerous organization? Do I really want someone like that haunting me and my daughter now?

  I turn right at the first intersection. I don't know anything about them. There's only one person who knows them better than I do, and he'll have to give me answers. He will have to solve the problem he created, and his solution should be satisfactory to me.

  The big shiny sign above the front door of Mr. Blunt's old furniture store catches my eye as I get out of the car.

  The Right Place

  I open the door with a strong shove and the smell of fresh paint hits my nose at once. I don't know how many years they didn't renovate the place, but now it doesn't resemble the furniture store. It doesn't look like a place I wouldn't bother to enter, but like a place I'd come to happily. My eyes dart from the cream and brown painted walls to the new pictures, to the black signs in every corner. Danielle Cole, the last person I want to see, giggles with a client in his fifties studying a huge sitting area at the end of the store. Henry is nowhere to be seen, and I lose my patience and raise my voice.

  "Colin!"

  Danielle looks up, turns her eyes slowly to me, and stares at me disapprovingly.

  "Elizabeth," my name sings from her red and shiny lips, "can I help you?"

  "Where's your boss?" I rush out.

  "In the back office, you don't have to make a fuss."

  I haven't even begun to make a fuss. With quick strides, I make my way to the back office, pull open the door and stop as I try to understand the scene in front of me. Henry is sitting behind a large wooden desk, a stack of papers arranged in front of him, next to the computer screen. Behind him stands my ex, and they both look up at me with noticeable surprise on their faces.

  "Elizabeth?" Colin straightens, looming over Henry, who looks like a rat in a trap.

  So he works here. Why am I surprised?

  "You told me your stuff with the thugs was over!" I shout at my ex.

  "It is."

  "So why did they stop me at the supermarket in the middle of my shopping and try to meddle with me?"

  "They what?" He is obviously losing his temper. His enormous body stretches, and the muscles in his arms look as if they will burst out of his shirt any second.

  "Asshole number one tried to stop asshole number two," I inform him, watching the vein in his temple swell up, his nostrils flaring and his jaw closing. "The first one pinned me to him, called me a little bird and said he’s never had a redhead. What did you get me involved in, Colin?"

  At the end of the sentence, my voice brakes to pieces, and I'm no longer a heroine. I'm angry and frightened, and my eyes shine. Colin looks as if someone is about to end his life in a particularly cruel way.

  "Stay here with Henry," he orders as he grabs his phone and the keys lying next to the stack of papers.

  "I'm going to the police," I state an empty threat, the sole purpose of which is to show him that I'm serious.

  "No police." He stops to stare at me sternly. "Let me handle it."

  "You've already handled it," I wave at him, "and the problem hasn't been solved!"

  "No police, Elizabeth." He grits his teeth. "Promise me you'll stay here until I come back."

  "I promise nothing," I inform him.

  "Promise me!" I don't think I've ever seen him so angry. Seeing him now, he’s not someone I want to mess around with.

  "Okay, I won't go to the police until you come back."

  "Henry, keep an eye on her," he throws at Henry, who seems helpless. He can't stop me, and we all know that.

  "Stay here and don't move." He turns a finger at me, agitatedly walking past me and slamming the office door behind him, leaving me and my friend equally stunned.

  "I'll kill him!" I drop to the chair in front of Henry.

  "Did they really chase you?" He moves the pile of papers to the side clearing the table.

  "I think they bumped into me by chance, but what do I know?" Fear again starts to seep in. "Maybe they followed me, nothing can surprise me anymore. Are you really working for him?"

  "His offer was good," he looks down. "Are you mad at me?"

  "I'm angry you didn't go to school." Working here is a waste of time. Henry didn't have to stay just because of the blonde.

  "I can still learn, in the evenings."

  "It's not the same and you know that. I'm just saying you might have enjoyed university."

  "Maybe," he shrugs, "and maybe I would suffer every moment. What's sure is I'm happy here, Colin is pleased with the work I'm doing, and Danielle . . ."

  "What about Danielle?" I want to hear that.

  "She's not as terrible as she wants you to believe. She's actually pretty nice."

  "Really?"

  "You should see her library."

  My jaw drops. Is he serious?

  "Henry," I ask inquiringly, "when did you see her library?"

  "When we had dinner at her house."

  "Danielle and you?"

  "Yes, she looks quite different in leggings and a t-shirt, and she knows how to cook."

  "You had dinner." I find it difficult to believe.

  "And we talked about books and business, it was pretty nice."

  I let out air, my head dropping. The world has gone mad, I have no other explanation.

  Danielle and Henry went on a date and the bullies stopped me at the grocery store. What happened to my nice, calm life?

  Chapter 25

  Forty-two minutes. That's the amount of time I stare at the office wall clock of The Right Place and curse in every way I know how. First Colin, then my father, and finally, Jimmy and Craig, the scums that forced me to be locked in here in the first place. If I hadn't promised Colin, I would have left long ago. I also abandoned my shopping cart at the supermarket and I still need groceries, and to pick up Viv from daycare. Although there are a few more hours, at this rate who knows how long it will take?

  Just as I'm about to break my promise, the door opens, and I jump out of the chair to Colin, who is toddling inside. My instincts come into play, and before I know what I'm doing, I’m supporting him with all his weight, getting under his armpit and letting him lean against me, letting out a juicy curse.

  Henry gets up from the chair quickly and grabs Colin's other side. I manage to pull the chair I was sitting on over with my foot to sit the badly bruised faced idiot, and Henry runs out of the office.

  "What the hell is this supposed to be?"

  "I've dealt with the problem, but the room is spinning," he mutters with a sigh. I can't stop him from gliding to the floor where he chooses to lie down. I lean over beside him and Henry appears in the doorway with a wet cloth in his hand.

  "I think you'll need this." He reaches his hand to me and gives a weary look to the man who groans loudly.

  "I'm calling an ambulance." I take the cloth and turn to my bag to pull out my phone, but Colin closes his fingers on my forearm.

  "No police." He closes his eyes.

  "Colin . . ."

  "No police, Liz." I decide to postpone the argument, put the bag down and lean over to his bloody face. Gently, I put the cloth on his forehead and wipe the running blood out of the corner of his puffy eye.
/>   "I can do it on my own."

  "I know." I move his hair to the side and wipe the cloth over his cheek. "You're such a fool."

  "I had to let 'em feel good about themselves, before I took 'em out." I swear that a small smile rises at the corner of his mouth, but the movement brings him pain that erases the smile immediately.

  "Do you think it's funny?" I shake my head in frustration. "We'll see how much you laugh when you can't see your daughter until your face heals."

  "I'll talk to her on the phone," he whispers, his eyes still closed. "And I'll tell her what happens to people who threaten my girls."

  "You won't tell her a thing, Superman." With one hand I gently stroke his untouched cheek, and with the other I remove blood from the tip of his mouth and his injured lip.

  "I love that name." He tries to smile again. Didn't he learn that it wasn't a good idea?

  "I think you have a concussion." All I can do is stroke his hair and curse his recklessness.

  "Just a few blows," he seems to be in control of the situation, "I've been through worse."

  "You should go home," I whisper to the idiot, "I don't think you’ll be of any use to your business."

  "Can't drive." He doesn't bother getting up, instead remaining lying beside me, his body limp.

  "I'll drive you," I suggest without thinking. "But you have to stand by yourself."

  "'I'm cozy." He smiles for a third time. Seriously?

  "I'm happy to hear that." I just can't get my hands off him. They're attracted to him like a magnet, insisting on stroking his face, calming him down, comforting him every second.

  "Let's stay here."

  "Not going to happen," I say with half a smile. The two of us are probably just as crazy. I'm supposed to be hysterical, Colin is supposed to go to the hospital, and we're smiling like two idiots.

  "We'll take your car." He accepts the fact that he won't be staying on the floor. "Danielle will bring the jeep later."

  "Can you stand?" I sit up to make room for him to straighten.