Heartwood

by L. G. Pace III

  “You forget something, baby?” I called, scrubbing the pears aggressively. When I didn’t get an answer, I glanced up at the windows over the sink and I spied the reflection of a tall hooded figure moving into the room. Every hair on my body immediately stood on end. For a moment, I froze. The figure advanced in my direction, and the gait was all too familiar. I inhaled loudly as he pulled off the hood and flipped his long hair out of his face like he always did. He was right behind me, and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

  “Hey, Doll.”

  I spun around but he closed the gap immediately, pressing me against the counter with his body. His cool, detached gaze swept my face and hair for a full ten seconds as he towered over me. I should have kicked and clawed at him, but I was too surprised to move. I never thought I’d lay eyes on Draven again, let alone up close like that.

  His hair was a bit longer than usual, and his features more angular. He looked bigger, as if he’d been lifting a lot. His boyish face had taken on a rough quality and he had a tiny scar on his cheekbone that he’d never had before. Prison life had been hard on him, by the looks of things. I wasn’t surprised. He liked to talk a lot of shit and he was too pretty to have had an easy go of it.

  “Maybe I should call you ‘baby girl’. You seem to like that better.” His playful tone spelled trouble, and I trembled as a soft smile tugged at his full lips. “What’s wrong, Molly? Cat got your tongue?”

  Flabbergasted, I explored his eyes cautiously as if his motives were encased behind the foggy glass. I struggled with what to say next when he simplified the situation by turning away from me and meandering over toward the knife on the counter. He ran the tips of his second and third fingers over it, as if checking the handle for dust. Then he swiftly palmed it. My heart, which was already beating thunderously, doubled its tempo.

  Logan, who was ignoring us, struggled to pick up another piece of banana. Draven stuffed his empty hand in his pocket and took a couple of steps toward him.

  “Which one is this?” He asked casually, as if we were discussing flavors of ice-cream or models of cars. My mind lurched, as I flailed to understand what he wanted to know.

  “What?” I finally managed. All I could think was how easily my chef’s knife passed through the banana. How meticulous I was about sharpening them. The thought made me want to wretch.

  “Is this the boy or the girl?” He replied, and the way he said it reminded me of how he talked to me when I didn’t understand something about his business deals or some terminology he used about finance. It was as if I was a three year old, or mentally challenged. Normally, I’d have told him to piss off for talking down to me like that, but there was nothing normal about any of this.

  I opened my mouth and paused. “He’s my son.”

  He crouched down to survey Logan, who looked up at him and grinned happily as he triumphantly stuffed banana into his mouth. My knife was nowhere to be seen, but I assumed he still held it in his right hand. “He looks like you.”

  He sounded ambivalent. I swallowed hard, my mouth feeling like I was back in the desert in Mexico. “So they say.”

  “You don’t mind if I take him, do you?” He asked, his voice retaining it’s smooth as scotch timbre. “You know, since you made it your personal crusade to have mine taken from me.”

  “Drae...” I started, slowly moving closer to them. My purse was two feet away from Logan and my pepper spray was on my keychain. I put my hand on my purse, ready to plunge the other inside. If he thought he was laying a finger on Logan, he was sadly mistaken. “I’m not the reason you don’t have Marco you—”

  Draven had hurt me several times before, mostly with his mind games. He’d cheated, then accused me of the same. He’d shoved me, and shaken me. He’d nearly drown me once in the bathtub in some fit of unexplained anger... but he’d never struck me. So when the back of his hand connected with the right side of my face, I wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t ready.

  My head exploded with agonizing pain and I’m pretty sure I bit my tongue. I cried out and knocked my purse over. My key ring fell to the floor with a clatter. The apples in the bag next to the purse scattered all over the kitchen floor. Dazed, I realized I was on the ground and somewhere nearby Logan started to cry. It took my eyes a while to focus. I heard Logan settle down, and when I finally could see straight again, my nightmare stood before me. Draven was holding Logan in his arms.

  “Don’t you ever talk to me about Marco.” He whispered. His glare was merciless, and I saw my knife was now on Logan’s tray. Draven had put it down to pick him up.

  I reached up to touch my face which felt numb, as if it had fallen asleep. My gums hurt, and when I pulled my hand back from my face there was blood on my fingers. The room swam for a second in my vision and I fought against a rising tide of darkness that threatened to pull me under. Reaching up, I grabbed ahold of the nearby counter and somehow got myself upright.

  The entire time Draven just stood there watching, a mildly amused expression on his face. When I had myself back on my feet with my back supported against the counter, his face twisted into an angry sneer. He raised his fist, and I knew when he hit me this time I wouldn’t get back up.

  “I’m sorry.” I hated myself for doing it. Bile rose up in my throat but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I looked down at the ground and cringed back. Whenever he’d lashed out at me, he’d always told me that I should have shown him the proper respect. So I took my shot at saving my life and my baby’s. I groveled, and in my peripheral vision I saw his hand drop to his side.

  “About what?” His voice was light and playful and the tone was the same one he used when we were first together and he wanted to tease me. Keeping my eyes on the floor I took a shuddering breath.

  “I never should have given her the letter.” Daring to glance up at him I saw a look of confusion on his face. I scrambled to say what I thought he’d want to hear. Remembering his weaknesses, I took a stab at appealing to his vanity. “I was jealous that you chose her over me. You had a baby with her, and it should have been me. I was hurt, but that was no excuse. What I did was unforgivable.”

  His features seemed to wage a war...the oddest combination of rage and... hope fought for control. Tears suddenly stood in his eyes, but for a moment it seemed like his anger would still win out. Then a single tear slid down his cheek.

  “I didn’t choose her. She was a mistake. That’s what I came to Austin to tell you in the first place, Doll.”

  My stomach did cartwheels and not because of Draven’s revisionist history. I might have a shot at defusing this situation if I played my cards right. If I could keep him talking until Joe got home...

  “Why don’t you put the baby down? He’s hungry. I’ll mix you a drink and we can talk about it.” For a second he seemed to think about it and then anger flashed in his eyes again.

  “No. I can’t trust you. You’re just trying to take the boy away from me. Not happening. Finders’ keepers. After all, it’s only fair. An eye for an eye.”

  He backed away toward the door, but he watched me, waiting for me to make my next move. It had become perfectly clear during our conversation that Draven had lost a few of his marbles. Maybe someone had beat him down in prison and destroyed the already damaged part of his brain where good decisions were made. I knew one thing with utter certainty. Draven taking my son out of this house wasn’t something I could bear. The thought of him hurting Logan to get revenge on me was unthinkable.

  “Wait.” My voice sounded genuine, which wasn’t surprising since I felt like I was begging for Logan’s life. “Take me with you.”

  Turning back to me, he stared at me for what felt like an eternity. I was desperate, and I wasn’t sure what I would do if he said no. I didn’t want to risk hurting Logan, but I was prepared to attack Draven to get my child back. When I’d begun to despair that he would turn away, he gave a curt nod.

  “All right.” He said, and his lips gave an imitation of a smi
le. I turned to grab my purse and his sharp command stopped me in my tracks. “No! No purse, no phone.”

  I saw by the dark expression he wore that he was serious. Afraid that any sudden movements might cause him to bolt, I moved slowly toward him and nodded.

  “Okay, Drae. Can I bring the baby’s diaper bag?” Anger marred his face again and I pleaded with my eyes. His expression melted away to a condescending smile. The transformation was absolutely terrifying, and I fought to keep my face from showing that inside I was screaming.

  “Of course. We wouldn’t want the little tyke to suffer. None of this is his fault, is it?”

  I shook my head and carefully picked up the diaper bag, putting the strap over my shoulder. I reached for the can of formula sitting next to it. I held it out to show him, wordlessly asking if I could bring it, and he nodded.

  “Lead the way.” He instructed motioning to the front door.

  Wiping my face on my sleeve, I made my way to the street. I glanced toward Penny’s house in hopes that she’d be on her front porch and I could somehow signal her that I was in trouble. Naturally, she was nowhere to be found. When I reached the sidewalk, I paused. If I screamed, God knows what he’d do to Logan. If we got into the car with him...

  “You’re not backing out on me, are ya?” He hissed. He was directly behind me.

  “I have to get his car seat.” I replied, over my shoulder.

  “No.” There was no debating that command, but it didn’t stop me from trying anyway.

  “Drae, it’s not safe.” I pleaded, turning to face him. I wanted to look at Logan, but I forced myself not to.

  “Sure it is.” For a moment Drae looked and sounded normal, like he had when we first met. He pressed the keys into my hand. “You’re driving, Molly. I’ll hold the baby. Just be careful.”

  I was shaking so badly as I pulled away from the curb that I was sure I would wreck the car. I hoped that at any moment Joe’s truck would appear. Instead, I drove slowly out of our neighborhood and into the mouth of hell.

  Draven directed me to a secondary highway as soon as we got to a major thoroughfare. Soon we were out of town, and with each new turn the area became more rural and remote. First suburbs, then countryside, then remote countryside. We went miles and miles without seeing another car.

  I spared a glance at Logan, who sat on Draven’s lap facing him He reached up and grabbed a chubby fistful of Draven’s hair and my heart leapt into my throat. Draven actually chuckled and gently removed Logan’s hand from the lock of hair.

  “No no, little man.” He scolded calmly. Logan blinked up at him with innocent eyes and I felt like I might cry. I choked it back, remembering all the times Joe asked me not to get involved with Elaine’s custody battle with Draven.

  Joe would never forgive me for this...not after Jack.

  A shadowy blackness seeped into my heart. I had to get Logan back to Joe. I deserved whatever wrath Draven rained down on me for being idiotic, but my innocent baby had to be protected at all costs.

  By the time he had me turn off onto a dirt lane, it had been ten minutes since I had seen another vehicle. Draven handed me a key and had me get out and open a chained lock on a pole fence gate. Once we were through, he ordered me to relock it and get back behind the wheel. The dirt road was little more than two ruts worn in among the rocks. It took several minutes of driving past trees and shrub to reach our destination.

  As we cleared the trees, a ramshackle two story wooden house came into view. Several outbuildings were sprinkled about the property, looming in the darkness like corpses of a bygone era. The homestead looked like it had been built at the beginning of the last century. The roof sagged in a few places and there was a general air of decay about the place. The one exception was the front door which looked like it belonged on an industrial building. I pressed on the brake and put the car in park. Draven reached over and plucked the keys from the ignition. Opening his door, he took Logan and headed up on to the questionable porch. I half expected it to collapse on them both.

  Faced with no viable choice, I followed along after him.

  As we approached the door, I could see my initial impression was correct. The door was, in fact, heavy steel. It lacked a knob, instead housing a square panel with numbers. Draven pushed a few buttons rapidly and I heard the lock click open. Stepping forward, he disappeared into the darkness inside.

  Faced with the open doorway, I felt true terror blooming inside of me. Up to this point, I’d dared to hope. Hope that a police officer would stop us. That someone I knew would see us and get help. That Joe would come rushing in to save the day. None of that was going to happen now. Instead, I was about to do something I never thought I would do again. I was choosing to place myself into the clutches Draven Cirone.

  My feet felt like lead as I started though the doorway. Then the thought of Draven alone with Logan lent me strength and I hurried inside. I heard Logan’s cry from above me and clawed my way up the staircase. I saw Draven come out of a room empty handed. Pulling it shut behind him I heard an ominous click.

  “Draven! Where’s Logan?” The smile that he gave me was both lecherous and evil in a way that made me tremble.

  “I put him to bed, Doll. He’s sleeping like an angel. You don’t want to wake him up do you?”

  I opened my mouth to say something more and his fingers came up and forcefully tapped my mouth. Lowering my eyes, I shook my head.

  “Good girl. Now why don’t we go to the bedroom and you can show me exactly how much you have missed me?” He reached out and stroked my cheek and I couldn’t stop myself. I shied back and shuddered in revulsion.

  His eyes flashed and his fist caught me in the wounded side of my face once more. I slammed back into the wall and everything went gray. As consciousness failed, I heard Logan wailing.

  When I came to sometime later, I was locked inside a room. I was lying on the bed I was in now, so he must have put me there. I heard my baby crying somewhere close by and I lost it. I screamed for Logan and begged Draven to let me out. Pounding against the door was fruitless; all I got out of it was bloody, bruised fists. I continued to beg for what seemed like hours, but I must have passed out at some point.

  I felt tears sting my eyes when I thought about Logan. I wondered if Draven had fed him, or if he’d cried himself to the point of exhaustion. I wondered if he’d changed him, and I worried he’d have a terrible rash. Then my thoughts wandered in an ugly direction and I worried that his silence meant Draven had taken him from me forever. I covered my mouth before the sob escaped me. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t true, but now that my imagination had opened that door, there was no way to stop the series of images that rushed out.

  I heard the sound of buttons being pressed and my door opened. Had I not made so many mistakes the night before, I’d have been able to rush him and perhaps get away. Instead, I curled up in the fetal position, covered my battered face, and waited for the next beating to begin.

  I heard a clatter on the bedside table and felt a dip on the bed next to me. I tensed, but all I felt was a gentle hand running down my back.

  “Molly.” He sounded like normal Draven and I exhaled. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. “Sit up and let me look at your face.”

  I did as I was told, aching as I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of the bed. There was dried blood and snot on both of my sleeves and the sheets, and knowing how obsessive he was about cleanliness, I wondered if he’d beat me for that too.

  Draven sank onto his knees in front of me and audibly groaned when he saw my face. A sincere look of disappointment came over him. He reached over and picked up a washcloth from a steaming bowl of water and began to dab at my face delicately.

  “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” He asked, and the tenderness in his voice troubled me more than a slap would have. “Do you think I like to hurt you?”

  Yes, Draven. As a matter of fact I do.

  As he proceeded to clean me
up, his sympathetic eyes were completely demoralizing. Rage simmered within me, and I wanted to claw those forlorn eyes right out of their sockets.

  Once satisfied with his progress on my battered right side, he dunked the pink rag into the warm water and tilted my face in the other direction.

  “God, you’re beautiful.” He murmured, pulling the warmth away from my face and running his thumb across the intact portion of my bottom lip. “I forgot how unbelievably gorgeous you are.”

  I looked into his eyes. I knew my face was expressionless, because I felt utterly detached. He cupped my cheek and seemed to survey my face. Then he put the rag back into the bowl of water with a resounding plop.

  He pushed himself between my legs so that he could wrap his arms around my waist. His forehead was pressed against mine and when he exhaled his minty breath hit me full in the face. I momentarily considered sinking my teeth into his nose as hard as I could, but figured I’d hear him out first. I knew from experience he was gearing up to wax poetic, and whatever bullshit he was about to spew was bound to be golden. Besides, the door had locked behind him when he came in. I had no idea if I would be able to break out of the room, but I doubted it was likely.

  “I had a lot of time to think while I was caged up like a rabid dog. I had plenty of time to plan. When I thought I had a shot at seeing my kid, it was about being respectable. I was going to rebuild my reputation and focus on him...maybe patch things up with his mother. But she was still bitter that I’d come to see you in Austin after I’d married her. Our...misunderstanding made it impossible for her to believe I was over you. She said I was still in love with you. Elaine was always jealous of you, Doll. I never would have left you for her. She knew it, I knew it. If you hadn’t found out about her, you and I would still be together. Between you and me, I’m pretty sure she planted those panties in my car. I know I’m not that careless.”