Cut and Run

by Amy Elizabeth

  Her body hummed in ecstasy as he lay beside her afterwards and enveloped her in his embrace. She melted into the sheets as he smoothed her hair off her face and affectionately kissed the tip of her nose.

  “I love you,” he said softly. “I love you so much.”

  Rebecca nodded and snuggled closer to him. “I love you, too.”

  A midnight wind rustled the leaves of the aspen trees outside his window. The sound was as comforting as the feel of his fingertips tracing their way up and down her spine. She didn’t know how much time had passed when Alec stretched across the nightstand and switched off the lamp. His eyes looked transparent in the moonlight as he turned back to her and rested his hand on her cheek. Her pulse skyrocketed when he slid his thumb across her lips, parting them just enough to feel the warm moisture of her mouth. He gave a little grin, and she did, too, when she realized they weren’t going to sleep anytime soon.

  His touch was every bit as loving and considerate, but something felt different this time. There was a sense of urgency that hadn’t been there before. Alec buried his face in her hair and clung to her fiercely, until his injured shoulder started to quiver. She touched his arm to assure him that he didn’t need to strain himself, but he didn’t stop. At first, Rebecca didn’t understand why. Then she felt his desperation as he pressed his cheek to hers, and she heard his request as clearly as if he’d said it aloud.

  Making love to her was his way of asking her to stay. A dagger pierced her heart when she realized it was her way of saying goodbye.

  *

  Dawn was seeping through the periwinkle curtains when the alarm on her watch began to beep. Rebecca untangled herself from Alec and fumbled through the pile of clothes on the floor, silencing the alarm before it woke him, too. She stared in dismay at the unstoppable second hand, wondering how it could be morning already.

  Her flight was scheduled to depart in three hours. Unless she called him soon, Jeff would be on his way to pick her up. How could she possibly leave, though, after the way Alec treated her last night? The thought of leaving was difficult enough before, but now the idea of it seemed unfathomably cruel.

  They’d laid awake for a long time afterwards, cuddling silently under the covers. She waited for him to say something–anything–to convince her that staying here was the right thing for both of them. He could have looked in her eyes and told her that he knew life with him would be hard, that he knew she would have to make sacrifices, but that he wanted her here because he couldn’t imagine his world without her in it.

  But he didn’t. She felt a tiny flicker of hope that maybe last night hadn’t changed anything. Maybe it was just something inevitable that was meant to happen between them this summer, and it wasn’t supposed to have any bearing on her decision to stay or go.

  Or maybe she was trying to convince herself of that.

  Alec shifted behind her and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She could tell he was sleeping, his breaths warm and steady on the back of her neck. She lay there for several minutes, agonizing over what to do. Should she wake him up to say goodbye? Should she slip out the door and avoid the situation altogether? Each of those options was equally terrifying.

  She glanced at her watch again. Jeff would have left his apartment by now and would probably arrive within fifteen minutes. With a deep breath, Rebecca eased out of Alec’s embrace and stood from the bed, quietly gathering her clothes. She tiptoed over to the bathroom and dressed in the dark, peeking back into the bedroom to make sure he was still asleep. As much as she tried not to, she couldn’t help but notice the serene expression on his handsome face.

  How could he look so peaceful when all she felt was angst?

  Indecision gripped her again as she studied the way his arm stretched across the space where she’d slept for the past two weeks. Alec was indisputably the best man she’d ever known. He possessed every quality she could ever want. And she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never do anything to hurt her. He wasn’t capable of hurting her.

  She cringed and bowed her head, wishing she were more like him.

  Her stomach churned as she crept out of the bathroom and inched past the bed. She placed her hand on the doorknob and lifted the door off its hinges so it wouldn’t squeak as she opened it. Right before she stepped into the hallway, she dared a glance over her shoulder. Alec was still lying on his pillow, but her heart plummeted to the floor when she saw that he was wide-awake, staring straight back at her.

  Rebecca froze in her tracks, unable to blink or even breathe. She was a terrific liar. She could easily say that she was just going downstairs to get a drink or check on Walter. She could say that she was going to see Star or meet her brother or call Allison or any one of fifty other excuses. She didn’t have the heart to lie to Alec, though, and she was too much of a coward to tell him the truth. Instead she held his gaze, sending him a thousand silent apologies, before she did the only thing she knew how to do.

  She turned away.

  She closed the door behind her.

  And she ran.

  Chapter 21

  Rebecca stared unseeing at the dark blue water of the Atlantic Ocean and the elegant beach houses perched along the shoreline. Absently she rubbed her neck, which felt stiff from five straight hours of watching the scenery transform from the mountains and plains to the infinite metropolis of the east coast. There was a jarring jolt as the landing gear connected with the tarmac, perfectly synchronized with the lurch in her stomach.

  “Welcome to Boston, where the local time is four-thirty,” said a cheerful voice over the intercom. “We hope you’ve had a pleasant flight with us today.”

  She managed to suck in a breath, unable to believe she was actually here. Her brother hadn’t said a word to her on the entire drive to Jackson Hole airport. He merely helped her with her luggage, told her he loved her, and hugged her goodbye. His disapproval was loud and clear, but it didn’t matter now if she’d made the right choice. What was done was done, and there was only one direction for her to go.

  Rebecca stepped off the plane and into an accelerated world that seemed both familiar and foreign. The sheer volume of noise was deafening. Everyone rushed around like they’d downed fifteen shots of espresso, jabbering on their cell phones about the stock market or the Sox game or how they couldn’t believe the tunnel was backed up again. One obnoxious man was bickering with the woman behind the counter of the coffee shop, demanding to know how she could mistake two-percent milk for skim milk. Up until May, she wouldn’t have batted an eye at any of it. Now it was all she could do not to be trampled by the businessmen who were too busy playing with their cell phones to watch where they were going.

  The terminal was flooded with Red Sox hats and Patriots sweatshirts, but Rebecca didn’t register it until she noticed people were staring at her. She glanced down and realized she was probably the only person in a thousand-mile radius wearing Wranglers and cowboy boots. She ducked into the restroom and locked herself in a stall, unzipping her suitcase to search for a change of clothes. She pulled out her long-lost cargo pants and nearly gagged when the putrid scent of Sean’s apartment hit her nostrils.

  With a groan of disgust, she balled them up and stuffed them into the trash bin. So what if everyone was staring at her? Why the hell should she care what they think, anyway? She crammed her sneakers back into her bag and slung it over her shoulder, marching out of the restroom with renewed determination.

  Anxiety filled her lungs as she stepped off the T at Andrew Station and gazed at the streets of South Boston. Had it really only been three months? It seemed like she’d been gone for an entire lifetime. The long rows of mildewed brick buildings were imposing, like prison walls. In Wyoming, there was too much open space. Here, there was none. Rebecca felt a vague sense of claustrophobia as the heels of her boots clicked along the concrete.

  “Becky Sheehan.”

  Startled, she whirled around to see one of Sean’s cohorts, Jimmy O’N
eal, stepping out of the corner store.

  “Thought that was you,” he said, shamelessly eying her backside. “You know, Halloween ain’t ‘til October.”

  She ignored his comment and pasted a polite smile on her face. “Thought you were still in South Bay.”

  “I’m out on parole,” he replied, taking a step closer and dropping his arm around her shoulders. “Good behavior and all.”

  He smelled as foul as the pants she’d just discarded, but she played it cool, like she was actually happy to see him. “So what’s up?”

  “Was hoping you could tell me. I haven’t seen your boy around since I got out. Cops finally pick him up for good?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been away all summer.”

  He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Where’d you run off to?”

  Her gut screamed at her to get away from him, so she did. She tried her best to appear nonchalant as she wiggled out from under his arm.

  “I’m sorry, Jimmy, but I gotta go. I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

  Jimmy nodded like he knew she was lying, but to her relief, he didn’t call her out on it. “Listen, Bec…your boy still owes me a couple grand, and I’m not gonna forget about it. You see him, you tell him I’m looking for him, okay?”

  Rebecca swallowed hard. “If I see him, I’ll let him know.”

  Finally she arrived at what had been her home for seventeen years. She ascended the narrow, dimly lit staircase, the old floorboards creaking with each step. Then she took a deep breath and tried to calm her pounding heart as she knocked on the door of apartment 2A.

  Her mother opened the door, her green eyes widening in disbelief. “Bec?”

  In spite of herself, she managed to smile. She hadn’t seen her mother sober in a very long time.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Susan gave a little shout and threw her arms around her. “I thought you weren’t coming back!”

  “I’m only staying tonight. I have orientation tomorrow.” She glanced around as she stepped into the apartment, surprised to see how tidy it was. “Where’s Karl?”

  “Out at his N.A. meeting,” her mother proudly replied. “He goes every Sunday and Wednesday night.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “He’s stopped drinking, gambling, and using drugs? I find that hard to believe.”

  “I told you we’ve been doing well.”

  Her mother pulled two sodas out of the fridge as Rebecca took a seat at the breakfast counter. She was positive she’d stumbled into an alternate universe. It looked like her home–a throwback to the seventies with its brown shag carpet and hideous yellow wallpaper–but it sure didn’t feel like it. It wasn’t so much what was there as what wasn’t there. Gone were the empty bottles, the neglected ashtrays, and the rolling papers on the coffee table. In their place was a vase of white lilies, a King James, and the official A.A. handbook. As much as she tried, she couldn’t ignore the inkling that something was…off. It all seemed too good to be true.

  Could two people like Susan and Karl really change that radically in such a short period of time?

  Susan took a seat beside her, interrupting her train of thought. “So how was your summer? Jeff told me you were working on a ranch. Did you finally get to ride?”

  “I did.”

  She briefly described Pumpkin and the Flying W, but she said nothing of Alec, Sean, or her brother’s attack. It felt bizarre to have an actual conversation with her. Usually Susan was so drunk she couldn’t manage a complete sentence. It would take a long time for her to get used to the new and improved version of her mother.

  “Did you have dinner? I can heat something up for you.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

  Susan nodded and gave her another hug. “I’m so glad you came back, Bec. Let’s get together this week, once you’ve settled into your dorm. Okay?”

  A lump formed in Rebecca’s throat, although she had no idea why. “Okay.”

  She entered her bedroom and set her bag down, waiting for some sort of revelation to strike her. There was none. Feeling strangely disappointed, she fumbled through her nightstand for something to wear to sleep. When she pulled her shirt over her head, the scent that filled her nostrils made her collapse on her bed like a rag doll.

  Alec.

  All day, she’d managed not to think about him or last night or this morning. Now, though, alone with her thoughts, she felt his presence inundate her all over again. She could feel the calluses on his hands; she could taste the salt on his skin; she could see–all too clearly–the shattered expression on his face as she’d turned and realized he was watching her leave. She willed herself to cry, but now that she was home, her tear ducts were dry again.

  Rebecca lay in her bed that night and gazed miserably around her old room. It was the quintessential adolescent girl’s room, complete with horse posters on the wall and Breyer ponies across her windowsill. Nothing about her life, though, felt even remotely juvenile. It wasn’t just her relationship with Alec. Walter, Jeff, Tommy, Allison, and Roger–each of them had played their part in her transition from the insecure girl who showed up at the Flying W in sneakers to the young woman who’d found enough courage to return home and face her demons.

  But was that why she was here right now? Was it really? She could try to convince herself that her motives were pure and she had it all figured out, but if anything, she was more confused now that she’d ever been. Staying in Wyoming hadn’t seemed right, but being back in Boston certainly didn’t feel right, either. Everything that had once seemed so important to her now seemed so pathetically trivial.

  It’ll be better once you get out of Southie and start school. You’ll see.

  In the morning, she gathered all of her paperwork and the things she’d take to her dorm, working quietly so as not to wake Susan and Karl. She was about to step out the front door when her mother shuffled into the living room.

  “Aren’t you going to stay for breakfast?”

  She stiffened. “I really don’t want to see Karl, Mom.”

  “Honey, Karl left for work an hour ago.”

  Rebecca’s mouth dropped open. “He’s holding down a job, too?”

  Her mother beamed. “You bet he has. He’s been working at the Quincy Post Office for the past two months.”

  *

  All of the blood drained from Rebecca’s face. “What did you say?”

  “He’s been working at the post office,” Susan repeated. “What’s wrong?”

  In a blind rage, she pushed past her mother into their bedroom, slamming the door and locking it shut.

  Susan pounded uselessly on the door. “Rebecca! Open this door!” she shouted. “What’s going on?”

  For ten minutes, Rebecca tore the room apart, yanking the clothes out of his dresser and launching them across the room. She ripped through the drawers in his nightstand and tossed books, papers, and cigarettes onto the floor. Then she stormed into their bathroom and removed every bottle from the medicine cabinet, unscrewing the lids and dumping the contents onto the tile.

  When at last she found what she was looking for, she cursed and hurled the bottle against the wall. It ricocheted off the toilet, landing beside the bags of white powder that had fallen from it. With trembling hands, she reached for one of the bags and forced herself to read Sean’s messy handwriting, scrawled across the plastic in thin black marker.

  You’re the best.

  Rebecca sank to the floor of the bathroom, surrounded by a sea of pills and empty bottles. She knew it was too good to be true. She knew deep down that Karl wouldn’t change his ways, but the thought of her own stepfather playing accomplice to Sean made her want to vomit. She could envision the two of them making the quick exchange, Karl promising to do his part and smear the postmarks on the letters. For all she knew, he’d been the one supplying Sean financial backing to get out to Wyoming in the first place.

  She didn’t know.

  And at this point, she didn’t ca
re.

  Feeling like her head was going to explode, she pushed herself to her feet. She unlocked the door to the bedroom and found Susan sitting on the floor, anxiously wringing her hands.

  “Bec?”

  Rebecca responded by flinging the cocaine at her feet. “Karl’s not quite the saint you make him out to be,” she hissed. “And I’m not a little kid anymore. Stay away from me, both of you, or I’ll press charges against him.”

  *

  A few other early commuters were on the T as she rode into the city. Rebecca pushed down her Red Sox cap to hide her face, still shaking over her discovery. Granted, Karl hadn’t been the one stalking her or threatening her; nor was he the one who tried to kill Alec or her brother. Maybe Sean had convinced him that the letters weren’t threats at all, but that he was begging her to come home–or something ridiculous like that. Sean was such a good liar that anything was possible.

  Still, she could never justify the action, especially since he was doing it in exchange for drugs. My poor mother, she thought, momentarily pitying her for being so gullible. While Susan seemed to be making an honest effort to clean up her life, any attempts Karl was making were deceitful at best. She didn’t even know which sentiment to consider first–her anger towards Karl, her sympathy for her mother, or her frustration at herself for leaving Alec…for this. Any shred of hope there might have been of rectifying things with her family was just blown to bits by the discovery in that pill bottle. And any chance that Alec would ever forgive her for leaving him the way she had was probably gone, too.