“No he won’t,” I mutter to myself. “He’ll never change.”
18
Holly
I try not to watch how happy the other patients are with their families as I make my way down the hall to my room. The smiles. The hugs. The love. Did my family ever have those moments? I know we did. Back before we fell apart, with a hole torn into our hearts that would never heal. Back before Heather died.
I fight to keep the tears locked up inside, threatening to spill from my broken soul. I’m tired of feeling this way. This guilt. I want to let it go. I need to let it go.
Then do it.
The thought flits through my mind like a butterfly flickering in and out of a warm summer sky. Mesmerizing and beautiful.
I stop in front of the door to my room and lay my hand on the handle. No. I let my fingers slide off the door knob and my arm falls to my side. I’m not going to go wallow in self-pity anymore. I’m not going to hide from the things upsetting me. My parents didn’t show up, and yeah, that sucks, but it doesn’t mean I’m dead. It’s time to stop letting other people control my feelings, letting them control my life.
My mind flashes to Knox, the man who controlled everything I did for five years. He told me what to eat, what to wear, who I could talk to, when I could talk. The worst part was: I let him. I never tried to escape, even when he started beating me, even when he did worse than that. I told myself it was impossible to get away.
And I was wrong.
I stand straight and push back my shoulders, turning on my heel, I make my way back up the hall. If I could stand up to him and start over, then I can face anything. I’m not hiding anymore. I’ve already made it through hell and lived to tell the tale. If that didn’t break me, nothing can.
I march down past the common room full of patients and their loved ones. This time, when I let my gaze wander over them, I don’t feel sad. My time will come. I’m not sure when or how, but I know in my heart that I’ll be happy again. This too, shall pass. The Alcoholics Anonymous mantra that we’ve repeated in here a hundred times, pops into my head.
In the meantime, I need to figure out what to do with myself right now. I look around the facility and all the public spaces are filled up with visitors. I don’t want to hide in my room, licking my wounds. However, I don’t want to sit down next to any of the families like some kind of creeper either.
Shuffling my feet along the tile floor, I make my way to the mail room. I know I don’t have any mail, but it gives me a place to go. That’s all I’m looking for right now.
“Hey there, I’m Kyle,” a short, pudgy man with wiry hair smiles at me. I can’t help but stare at his clothes. His sweater looks like one of those joke ones you see people wear to ‘ugly sweater parties’.
“Uh, hi,” I manage to answer.
“Can I help you with something? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” his brown eyes twinkle cheerfully.
“It’s Holly, I just… wanted to check on my mail.” I finally pry my eyes from the clash of colors and patterns on his body.
“Like the sweater, huh?” Kyle answers.
“Isn’t it for Christmas?” I blurt out.
“No, why do you think that?” His face erupts into a smile and I can’t help but feel like he wears this thing just to mess with people.
“It’s covered in penguins,” I point to the design.
“You can wear penguins any time of year,” he pulls down on the hem of his gaudy fashion choice and smoothes his hand over the wrinkles.
“In May? I mean, I guess so. But, it’s red and green,” I laugh.
“So are flowers,” he answers with a straight face. Now I’m starting to wonder if he really does think this is a year-round sweater and I’m offending him.
“I guess you’ve got me there,” I smile. “I like it,” I lie.
“No you don’t,” Kyle meets my eyes and I blush. I guess I did offend him after all. “It made you smile though, and that’s worth it to me. If I can wear a dorky sweater and make someone’s day in here a little brighter, then I don’t care how silly it looks,” he explains.
“That’s really nice,” I laugh, relieved that I haven’t insulted his tacky taste.
“So, Holly, is it?”
“Yes.”
“I need a last name to check your mail.”
“Sure, it’s Evans,” I answer.
Kyle whirls around and searches through one of many filing cabinets lining the back wall. “Evans, ok, just a sec,” he runs his hand over the drawers until he reaches the one for names starting with E. I watch as he flips his nubby fingers through the folders in the drawer until he almost reaches the back. “Evans!” He sounds excited as he pulls out a couple of envelopes, “Holly Evans. Here we go, you’ve got mail today.”
“I do,” I peer curiously over to the mystery letters in his hand.
“You sure do, now I just need you to sign this sheet,” he pulls a clipboard from the top of the filing cabinet with a pen attached to it by a string, “to mark that you’ve gotten them.”
“Sure,” I sign the paper and slide it back to him. Wrapping my fingers around the edge of the letters, I tingle with excitement. I can’t remember the last time I got mail. I don’t mean in here, I mean in life. I forgot the little rush you get when something unexpected is sent to you.
“Thanks!” I cheerfully call out as I start back down the hall to my room. At least this time I’m not going to drown in sadness.
“No problem, and Holly?” Kyle calls out and I turn back to look at him in his ridiculous Christmas sweater once more.
“Yeah?”
“Keep on smiling,” he answers.
“I’ll try,” I beam at him and then hurry back to my room.
I peer down at the envelopes, one of them is clearly from my father. The return address on it makes it easy to figure out. The other is more mysterious. The address to send it here has been printed on a sticker and stuck to the front and there’s no return address to be found.
I rush into my room and close the door with my foot, quickly making my way over to my small bed. My fingers make quick work of tearing the edge of the first envelope open and my heart beats quickly as I pull the handwritten letter from my father out.
Dear Holly,
I hope this finds you well. It’s been so hard to have you suddenly appear back in our lives only to have you disappear into rehab for two months. I understand that it’s important for your recovery, and that’s all that truly matters. I know that in time, when you’re clean and back home, the communication you aren’t allowed to have with us now will fade into a distant memory. It’s just hard right now.
I’m writing this because I needed to tell you that we received a notice from Edgewood inviting us to Family Day. Unfortunately, it came really late in the mail and we weren’t able to book travel out of the country with such short notice. It kills me to know we could have had time together, and I hope you understand that I would’ve come if I could.
I’m rooting for you, Holly. I know you’re going to get the help you need and live the life you’ve always deserved; one filled with joy and success. I love you and will be there for your graduation day.
Sincerely,
Dad
I pull the letter to my chest as tears fall down my face. For once, they aren’t tears of sadness or fear, but happiness. They didn’t just decide not to show up after all. Well, at least my father didn’t. I scan his words again, but notice there’s no mention of my Mom. I won’t focus on that, though. Not right now. Right now, I’ll take the small victories where I can get them. Knowing that my father didn’t choose to leave me here high and dry on Family Day is feeling like a pretty big win.
I wipe away my tears and put his letter down on my bedside table, smiling. I stare at it in a happy haze as my fingers tear through the next envelope. Maybe things are really going to turn around for me. Once I get out of here, maybe I can get a fresh start. My future feels bright for the first time in over h
alf a decade.
I glance down at the typed letter trembling in my hand. The smile evaporates from my face and my eyes grow wide. I drop the paper to the floor and clamp both of my hands over the silent scream formed on my lips. All the feelings and flames of hope are extinguished by a tide of fear gripping at my heart.
I was so wrong. I have no future. If this is true, I won’t even have a present. I look down at the note in horror. Simply typed, in the middle of the sheet are two lines:
I told you I would find you.
I’m going to kill you.
19
Jake
I stomp into my room, slamming the door behind me with a clap of thunder. Pacing the empty floor in front of my bed, I try to shake off the anger rolling through my blood.
Who the hell does he think he is? Why did he bother to travel up here from Colorado, just to sit like a sullen lump for our visit?
Rage boils up the back of my throat as his face, tattooed with disappointment, flashes through my mind. I hammer my fists down onto my desk with a thud, but the anger is still there. “Fuck him,” I growl at my empty room.
This must be what Cameron has felt like his entire life. The only time my father treated him right was when he spent some time in the Army. As soon as he retired to pursue his dream of a football career, my father’s pride shrivelled up into dust. Dad retired as a General, nothing to sneeze at. You’d think his own accomplishments would be enough for him. However, he’s never been happy unless his sons were following his path, more like marching down it, in uniform. Even being in the military wasn’t really ever enough for him, he always wanted me to be Special Forces, pushing it hard. I’m guessing he wanted to live the adventures he never had in the regular force through me. Too bad my cocaine addiction didn’t fit into his ‘choose-your-own-adventure’ model.
Looking out my window at the lush, green forest surrounding my side of the building I finally feel a calm begin to soothe me. He’ll get over it. That much is true. As long as I clean up and stay with the SEALs, that’s all he’ll need to move on. The night I ran from the cops and left my brother with a bag of coke was a black eye. Not just for my father, but for my relationship with Cameron too. Black eyes heal though. If my brother could forgive me, then Dad will eventually too.
The sliver of good news that my mother delivered pops up from my memory. My big bro got drafted by the NFL! I always knew he’d make it. I can’t wait to get out of here and go watch one of his games. Just goes to show that following Dad’s dreams aren’t worth shit. Cameron broke free, did his own thing and now look at him.
Pride for my brother swells up in my chest and a smile spreads over my lips. I wish I could call him and congratulate him.
THUNK!
My fists ball up at my sides as I whirl around to see who’s coming into my room with the grace of a rhino. The tension eases from my body and my fingers unfurl as my eyes lock on Holly’s impossible sexiness.
Wait, her eyes, they look glassy. Her face is drained of the usual bright glow I’ve looked forward to seeing every day. She looks like a corpse, standing in my doorframe with one fist balled up in front of her and her muscles motionless.
“What’s wrong? I thought you didn’t want us visiting each other’s rooms anymore?” I look over her shoulder, out into the hall for possible staff members. Holly doesn’t move. It’s hard to tell if she’s even breathing. I rush over to her and ease her inside my room, gently closing the door behind her.
“What’s going on?” I prod. “Holly, please tell me. What happened?” My mind begins to race through worst case scenarios as she stares blankly ahead.
“He found me.” Her pale lips barely move as she finally whispers a clue.
“Who found you? What do you mean?” I look down at the fist she’s still holding out in front of her, frozen in time. Between the cracks in her fingers I can see she’s holding something. A paper.
I softly place my hand on her shoulder, “Holly, it’s going to be ok. Let me help you, please.” I slide my hand down to hers and she releases the crumpled paper into my hand.
I pull it open and read the typewritten note, if you can call it that.
I told you I would find you.
I’m going to kill you.
A chill runs through me. Knox. He tracked her down.
“Come here, it’s going to be ok,” I pull Holly against my chest and wrap my arms around her tightly. Her rigid muscles begin to slacken and she falls against me, sobbing. Her tears are wetting my shirt, spreading over my chest like a dark stain. Just like the dark stain from Holly’s past haunting her now.
“Shhh, it’s going to be ok. I promise you. Don’t cry,” I run my hand over her silky hair and try to figure out how this piece of shit found her.
“It w-won’t be,” she sniffles and throws her arms around me tight, pressing her face into me. “He f-found me here. Here! In Canada,” she sobs. “He’s gonna kill me, he’s killed other people who fucked him over, I’m dead.”
“Hey, he won’t come up here. There’s no way he can cross the border, he’s just trying to scare you.”
“N-no, you don’t understand. He wants revenge. He’ll find a way. How did he find out I was here?” She wails and I pull her in tight.
“Look, I don’t know how he tracked you down here, but he has no reason to try to get revenge. For what? You leaving?” I try to reason with her.
“It’s more than that.” She pulls her face from my chest and looks at me with her red-rimmed eyes.
“What do you mean?” I hold her loosely in my arms and watch as she seems to debate telling me something, her face twists up like it’s painful to think about.
“I shot him,” she whispers, dropping her head.
“Wait, what?” Maybe Holly isn’t the innocent girl who was stuck in a bad life, like I thought. “Did you say you shot him?”
“I did. In the knee. And I stole his car. And ten grand of his money.” She mumbles.
Woah, who the fuck is this chick? Not the woman I’ve been getting to know in here for the last month.
“Why?” I try to put the puzzle pieces together.
“It’s not like I just woke up one day and did it,” she looks back up at me and her lip quivers violently. “He was beating me, with a belt…again. Here,” she pulls away from me and takes a step back. “See?” she leans over, pulling up her pant leg and prying her sock over her heel. Wrapped around her ankle is the faded yellowing stain of an old, thick bruise. Etched into the side of her ankle is a vague imprint of where that sack of shit hit her with the buckle. My muscles tense as my emotions surge through me. If that fucker shows his face around here, I’m going to fucking end him.
Holly fixes her clothes and stands back up, facing me. “He told me, when he was finished whipping me, he was going to fuck me with his gun,” she shivers as she recalls the horror.
“Hey, come here,” I reach out and grab her, pulling her back against my chest. “I’m sorry you ever went through that. Any of that. It’s over now. You don’t need to be afraid.”
“Yes, I do!” Her pitch hurts my ears. “He found me! He’s going to kill me. He’s gonna… “
“No, he won’t. Listen, he can’t cross the border,” I try to explain.
“He has people who can,” she protests.
“Ok, even if he does. Even if they try to come here, you’re safe here. No one is allowed in this building without a code. You’re in a building with twenty-four hour security, in another country, on a property with a fence surrounding it, and you have a secret weapon.”
“What?” She scrunches her nose up in confusion.
“Me.”
Finally, a smile touches her lips and I can’t help but smile back. I want her to feel better. To make her safe. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.
I watch as a cloud rolls in over her bright blue eyes, “What about after I get out? He’ll just find me again. At my parents’ house!” The revelation strikes her like light
ening.
“No. He won’t.” I assure her firmly.
“How do you know?”
“Does he know where you’re from? Where your parents live?” I prod.
“No,” she bites her lip and her eyebrows twitch together. “When I left my parents’ house, I didn’t look back. I never told anyone where I was from, I hoped that if I kept it inside, maybe I would forget too,” she looks down at the floor, her chin trembling.
“Ok, and he won’t find you there.”
“What do you mean? If he found me here, he can find me anywhere.”
“He won’t find you there, because after this you’re going to come live with me. I’ll protect you. And if he tries anything when you’re living at my house, I’ll kill that coward with my bare hands.” I pull Holly in close and kiss her forehead.
“Why would you do that for me?” She whispers like she’s not sure she wants to know.
“Because,” I take a deep breath and look straight into her eyes, “yeah, so um… I’m kind of falling in love with you.”
20
Jake
I can’t sleep. I’m tired enough. Bored enough. Yet, every time I close my eyes, nothing. Just more seconds turning into minutes, dragging into hours. I feel like a damned kid waiting up to hear Santa on the roof. In less than ten hours, Holly and I will be walking out of this place. We’ll be graduates of the program, free to go back to our lives. Lives we left behind, like shattered tile on the ground. Lives that we’ll forge together, as a couple, and create a new picture of our future with the mosaic we build back up.
I twist in the ridiculously small, single bed that I’ll never miss sleeping in. Flipping my pillow, I lie my head on the cool side and try, yet again, to let sleep wash over me. My eyes gently shut and I listen to the soft rain pattering on my window pane.
Navy SEAL Bad Boy Page 9