by V. L. Brock
“Who’s the message from?” Laurie interrupted.
I drew my attention from the screen to the woman on the old, wooden tattered chair opposite. “Walker asking when we’re ready to be picked up. With everything that happened I forgot to let him know that we were getting a cab.” I went back to finishing my message when she interrupted again. “Yeah?”
“I love Walker, Kady,” shifting to the edge of the seat, she braced her elbows on her knees. “I feel honored to have been welcomed into his family and they treat me as one of their own. But I’m not a hard ass like any of them. I’m not as strong and tough as Walker, I don’t think with my emotions first.”
“Where are you going with this, Laur?” I asked, incredulous.
“One thing I have always been with him is honest. He can take care of himself, but…Kady I know I have no right to ask this, but could we not tell him about Liam showing up at the hospital today? And I’m not asking because I know I’ll be in Shit Street because I told him that you’d be safe with me, but because I know he will think with his emotions first, and he will head straight for Liam. I don’t want him getting hurt.” She hung her head with a mild shake. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.”
Because of her? I felt my scalp prickle with unease and the flip of my stomach told me that further ripples had been made in the water. “What do you mean, ‘Because of you’? Was something said?”
“No, it’ll be okay, I just…” she shook my question off with little resolve, her apprehension betrayed in the shaking of her voice. “Sometimes the consequences just aren’t worth the risk, right?”
“Yeah,” I breathed, “Not worth the risk,” then went back to finishing my text.
It was around 5:20 p.m. when the apartment door was kicked open in haste, sending both Laurie and I jumping backwards into the sofa, effectively smearing our nail polish onto flesh.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Walker panted, a large pizza box balancing in his hands. “Remind me to tip the pizza delivery guy decently next time.”
Laurie sprung up like a jackrabbit, set the small glass jar of her purple polish on the table, and bounded toward him, seizing the food, while he forcefully kicked the door shut behind him. “Pizza, yummy,” she hummed with great approval.
I could tell the distraction of girlie time had helped her unwind after her tense, poignant words. Despite the fact I saw them both as I exited the restroom at the hospital, I had no idea what words were exchanged between them. One thing I did know was that it had to have been something cogent because I had never seen her so bothered before.
“You wouldn’t last two minutes with that, cuz.” Still, his warning went unheeded. Set on the low coffee table, the pizza lid was pushed open. The sound of his throaty, light chuckling when Laurie jumped backwards and rolled her eyes was contagious, and I was soon mirroring his amusement.
“Holy Mother, it burns, it burns,” she droned melodramatically, covering her watering eyes with her forearm.
“I didn’t know you’d be joining us, so it’s tough.”
“Well, you two will be safe from Dracula tonight, that’s for sure.”
Skirting the table, a kiss was pressed to my head. It was a simple kiss, but one which still had me inwardly questioning, what had he done? As he pulled away, rustling sounded from the crooked arm behind his back, and with a flourish and his boyish grin, a bouquet of white and purple hyacinths were pulled free. “For you, darlin’.”
A small gesture––yes––and the tag may have displayed that they were from the 7/11, not some extravagant florist, but my heart still swelled in my chest. He could have gotten me some handpicked flowers tied with string and I would have still felt the same degree of appreciation. As always, it was the thought which counted.
My jar of chosen pink polish was set beside Laurie’s on the tabletop. “They’re beautiful,” I seized them with both hands, burying my nose in the center. “Thank you.” Onto my toes I rose and cupped the side of his face with my right hand. I pressed a chaste kiss against his lips then was pulled flush against his hard body, when wandering hands were positioned on my backside.
“You’re more than welcome, darlin’.”
“Do you have a vase I could put them in?”
Watching the cogs in his head turning at my question was the most amusing sight I had seen all day. He looked so adorable when he pouted. “Fuck.”
“It’s okay,” my thumb grazed over his pouting, boy-like lips before continuing to fist into the back of his hair. “I’ll put them in a pint glass,” I tugged his head down to meet me; his tongue peeked out, resting on his lower lip as our brows pressed against one another. Damn how one look could be so sexy I had no idea? “I know you’re in no short supply of those.” I turned away to head for the kitchen.
“Cheeky, wench” he quickly replied and before I knew what was happening, I was bound by his arms, his chin on my shoulder as we stumbled into the kitchen.
I faintly heard Laurie giggling at our display before exclaiming, “I’m risking a chance with a slice of garlic pizza. Be warned, if it gives me the shits you’re going to pay!”
“So how did it go?” Walker asked, fetching a bottle of Bud from the fridge then resting back against the small counter. His legs crossed at the ankles, while I rinsed out and filled a pint glass with water.
“The appointment?” I asked, digging into the drawer beside him to retrieve the scissors.
“No, excursion to Everest.”
With a wrinkle of my nose, I tossed him a dirty look and pointed the scissors in his direction in mock scolding. He simply glanced at the opened blades, raised his eyebrows totally uncaring then took a draw from his bottle. Guilt flooded my system within an instant as an image of his glorious, imperfectly-perfect torso flashed through my mind, and the many implements he had used to destroy it.
I went back to cutting the plastic from the blossoms and snipping the stems. “It was okay.”
“Okay? That’s all?”
“That’s all. He had me complete a puzzle and talked about how I’m finding things, my memory––”
“What about Liam?”
His name caused the usual rigid reaction to ambush my body. My snipping of the stems before placing them in the glass of water seemed to happen in slow-motion as I treaded, wearily, through the conversation. “What about him?”
“Did you tell the doctor about what you’ve been through with him?”
I couldn’t because he was there beside me the entire time…Even then, despite the fact of his presence, would I have found the strength to have been completely honest, anyway?
“I, umm…I––”
“He was more interested in finding out how she was coping, Walker,” Laurie interjected at the doorway to my left. Offering a quick glance, I noticed her shoulder braced against the doorway, a slice of pizza in her hand. “You know, with the frustration and all,” she waved the wedge around as she spoke before taking a bite. I gave my silent thanks in the form of a tightlipped smile and a tiny nod of my head, which she mimicked.
“Of course.”
“On that note, I am going to love you and leave you, because I truthfully cannot force myself to eat this,” she glared at the food between her fingers in disgust, her lips upturned. “Why not just eat a clove instead of wasting dough and cheese.”
Walker snatched it from her hand as she stretched to drop it into the garbage. “We don’t waste food,” he teased already moving to rip off a bite. “You want a lift?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. Who needs mace when you have garlic breath, right?” Stepping over the threshold, she wrapped her arms around me.
After everything which happened that day, the threats…she was going to risk going home alone? My stomach dropped. “Take the lift, Laur. Please,” I muttered amongst her hair.
“I’ll be fine, you two enjoy your night,” she replied with a reassuring rub over my back.
“I’ll ring you in the morning,” I told her
as she pulled away. Flashing a smile, she nodded her head and left the kitchen with Walker in tow as I returned back to my flower arranging with a huge sphere of foreboding nestled in my gut.
We were sitting on the old couch digging into the chicken and onion pizza with extra garlic as the blue lighting flashed from the portable TV at the very end of the room. The result of the girlie distraction Laurie and I set out on was nonexistent anymore. The mentioning of his name alone in the kitchen had sent me on another downward spiral. His face, the sanctimonious smirks, his taxing hands alongside the malice dripping from his voice, was repeating itself over and over, like I was in the heart of a whirlwind. Regardless of whichever direction I turned, something would be there, right in front of my face mocking me––reminding me.
For years I had kept secrets from the outside world, and I wanted nothing more than to keep them hidden, yet at that point, the secret which I was carrying was like a gigantic boulder, one which I wanted nothing more than to unburden myself of. Yet, I couldn’t because, unlike fearing the repercussions for myself, I feared them for the people around me.
“Did you hear me, darlin’?” I was beckoned back to reality by the familiar, accented voice.
“Hmm,” I blinked.
Dropping the pizza in the box, he pushed himself back into the couch, his right arm outstretched across the back. “Never mind. You’re quiet tonight, darlin’. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
It was still rather early in the evening, yet I felt so drained, physically and emotionally. “It’s been a busy day. I’m just tired.”
“Want to turn in?”
“I just want a cuddle.”
The springs made their famous groaning sound as Walker shifted and gestured for me to snuggle under his arm. I did so. With his fingers stroking through my hair, his gloriously masculine scent, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, I was soon falling into slumber, feeling warm and protected in his arms as darkness overtook.
Chapter Eight
The chair which I was left sitting in, in the doctor’s office wasn’t as comfortable as what I remembered. The padding that my lower body was sinking into was replaced with hard, cold plastic. The remembered wooden arms were now wrought-iron and the bright light that seemed to have made the space bigger, slowly began to darken.
“Kady, you can tell me, you’re safe, no one can hurt you. Tell me what happened.”
My body became rigid when I felt his hand on my leg. I peeked down at the physical contact, his nails slowly digging into my flesh with white knuckle force, the intense pressure behind his grip paling my flesh.
On a gasp, I looked up at the man to my left, his eyes glazed, his mouth twitched as the pressure increased. “Tell me if it hurts. That’s all you have to do. Tell me, and I’ll stop.” A sudden fire and piercing took form where his fingers lingered. I looked down again.
Where his hand once lay now rested two wooden blocks, my knee nestled between them. I watched as the rusted iron spikes slowly bored into my flesh as the screws either side of the device turned and tightened by an invisible force. The squealing and grating of old metal echoed as the bolts twisted. I looked up but Leviton was no longer there with us. It was just me, Liam and the immobilizing device on my knee.
A row of corroded spears impaled the back of the joint, while another row impaled from the front. I opened my mouth to scream, to tell him to stop when blood spat up from the filling punctures, the tip of each spike splintering my bone.
“Tell me if it hurts,” he repeated.
I tried to open my mouth, but I couldn’t. Tears welled at the agony inflicted. I lifted my hand to my mouth, but my lips weren’t there. Only flesh. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t free myself. Not with actions, and certainly not with words.
The evil, bloodcurdling chuckle from beside me faded as quickly as it began as the man disappeared into oblivion. Suddenly, the chair disappeared from beneath me, the room lengthened into a barren, asylum corridor, filled with rusted doors with small grated windows. I stood in its center, listening as a persistent pounding echoed throughout the hallway.
“Kady––” the sudden, rapid whisper of my name in my ear had me turning promptly. There he was again, Liam, standing in front of me with what looked like a meat cleaver in his one hand, covered in blood, the other, a box.
My breathing was rapid; I heard my heart thumping a merciless beat. An unexpected coldness spread through my chest as though someone licked my flesh then lightly blew cooling air. I felt empty.
Glancing down, the sound of my beating heart quickened as my vision rested on the steel parting my chest, the cavity exposed and empty. “I own you. I will always own you,” he sneered as my terrified heart attempted to thump its way free from inside his box.
A hair-raising scream, emanating from one of the rooms, drew my attention from the man. My knee was burning and throbbing, with each step I forced myself to take.
A familiar voice called, “Kady,” the ‘D’ replaced for a ‘T’, as I approached the source of the screams. “Kady,’” he called again. I looked toward him as he repeatedly pounded on the door he was held behind. Through the metal bars, I saw the panic in his eyes before turning to the grate where the screams derived. “Liam,” he screamed. “Liam, let them go, let them fuckin’ go!” The door may have been made from steel, yet I could still see the impact of each forceful blow of his fist.
Peering through the door, Laurie screamed again, her head tipped back as her naked body tensed and writhed against the leather restraints holding her to the gurney. What looked like a rusted ladle with holes was being held above her. The faceless person flicked his wrist, the scalding oil distributed over her flesh causing instant blistering. There he was once again. At her side, he watched me with a sickening grin, the knife in his possession slowly slicing through her flesh, tearing scream after scream from her throat.
As the blood flowed from her wounds, tears flowed from my eyes.
“Kady, darlin’ look at me,” Walker called from behind the door; his hands clung around the bars. “Look at me, Kady.” Tearing my focus from the torturous scene in the room, I looked at Walker. His eyes hunted my own. It was as though he was giving up. As though he knew all too well what was going to happen, yet in a twisted way, he was embracing it. “Run.”
My head shook as more tears came. I wanted to leave more than anything, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave him there, knowing that I was the one who put him there in the first place.
“Go. RUN!”
I woke with a start. Tears and sweat melded on my face, a gasp expelled, as though I had been holding my breath for hours.
I couldn’t breathe. For a moment, I couldn’t move. Mustering my strength, I finally shuffled myself up in the bed, the springs moaning beneath me. I fisted my hands through my sweaty locks, while unremitting tears fell due to the screams echoing, and the visions replaying in my mind.
I had no idea how I got into the bed. Hell, I had no idea how come I was in just my panties. The last thing I remembered was snuggling on the sofa.
Walker was lying beside me. The drapes were open so the streetlamps and the glow from the moon penetrated the room. He looked so peaceful with the sheet bound around his hips, his torso on full display, and his eyelashes sweeping the arch of his cheek. Nevertheless, all I could see when I looked at him, was him being held helpless behind the door, his fingers straining as they coiled around the iron bars. The combined fire and defeat in his eyes when he told me to run…
I felt sick to my stomach, and although I was awake, it was as though the darkest shadows in the room were the ones whispering my name in that certain terrifying and bone chilling pitch.
Careful not to disturb him, I brushed the sheet from my body and draped my legs over the edge of the mattress. It was 3:54a.m. The sun would rise soon and take with it the menacing shadows, which I was convinced held the voice of the one man in this world that scared me. Despite that fact, I couldn’t force myself t
o stay in the room where those visuals had visited.
The floorboards were cold as I found my feet. From off the iron footboard, I seized Walker’s red and black plaid shirt he wore the day before, and shrugged it on before quietly stepping out of the room, closing the door behind me.
The lamp to my right was switched on promptly. The ability to see clearly and know that you’re not being hunted by the terrors in the darkness always makes you feel better after a nightmare to that extent. It reminds you that this is reality. Again, it’s the fear of the unknown that sends your heart and mind into overdrive.
On a defeated sigh, I lowered myself onto the couch. The situation as it stood was so confusing. How could I feel angry yet empowered by the memories in which I had lost as I sought to remember them, yet since remembering, I found the anger and the degree of empowerment––of resolve and determination I felt at that time––was being cast aside and once again, fear took its hold on me. I literally felt as though I had been there and back, traveled this journey time and time again and still I couldn’t break the cycle. The only way to break it was if I took Liam’s power away from him. Nevertheless, I had no idea of how, and worse of all, I was scared shitless of what would happen if I did.
The blanket folded over the back of the couch was drawn from its position. With a pillow resting against the arm, I fell back. Using the golden glow of the lamp at my feet as verification that nothing could harm me, I felt my eyelids become heavy. A few times they fluttered closed only to spring back open as another torturous, gruesome image filtered into my mind.
Eventually, the only image to grace behind my eyelids––the one which sent me back into slumber––was that of strength, of power. Of freedom.
Something was crawling over my brow. I lifted my hand to swat it away, only to have it return seconds later. When I heard the soft sounds of shushing, I opened my eyes.
Walker was on his knees in front of me, watching me while his hand gently stroked across my hairline. He looked deep in thought, studying the way his fingers moved over and through my hair.