by Kayla Carson
“How?” Wes asked.
“Vanessa.”
“How would Vanessa know anything about my past, other than the one we shared?”
“I found a flash drive. It was in one of my flower pots in the garage. I knew it wasn't one of mine. I put it into the computer one day, and there was a list of names. Our shared foster father, Cole, you, and a few other names I didn't recognize. I opened one, just to see what it was. There were medical records, employment records, property deeds, and who knows what else.”
“Are you saying she has information about my birth parents?”
“It's a possibility.”
Chapter 4
Harper was silent the entire ride back to our place. I could tell she was feeling guilty about keeping the flash drive from me, but I couldn't blame her. We were trying to move on with our lives, and leave Vanessa as far back in the past as possible, and drudging things up was the opposite of that. When we pulled into our driveway, and I put the car into park, she reached for her door handle. “Hey.” I said, stopping her. “You wanna talk about it?”
“I should have told you the minute I found it. I just. There is so much information Cole, on so many people. I – I opened your file.” She stammered. “Vanessa could have you locked away for life for the things in that file.”
“So, you know everything? All of my demons?”
“I – no. I didn't want to invade your privacy.”
“But?”
“It doesn't matter. It would never change the way I feel about you.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I am. I trust you. I believe in you. I know you've had a hard life, but that doesn't mean it's turned you into someone who's unlovable.”
“Wes, and I did a lot of things we both regret. Things we had to do so we wouldn't lose ourselves, things that we aren't proud of. I want you to read the file, the entire thing. I want you to know everything.”
“You could just tell me.”
“Now?”
“Seems as good a time as any.”
I took a deep breath, and ran my hands through my hair, tipping my head back against the headrest. “I don't even know where to begin.”
“The beginning seems like a good place to start.”
I nodded. “Alright. I'll tell you my story.”
As if on cue, or some sign from up above, it started to rain. It wasn't light, and calm either, it came roaring down in a thick shower. The sound banging off the car's roof sounding like thunder. It seemed fitting that I'd be telling my story this way, so I closed my eyes, and I started. “I was only five when I first met Wes. He was ten, and I looked up to him the minute he shook my hand. He was the first person to show me any kind of respect, and even though I was young, I recognized that. Our foster mother's name was Hannah. She was wonderful, and for the first three weeks I thought maybe I'd finally gotten lucky. But then, her boyfriend came home from whatever rock he was hiding under. It was clear he wasn't thrilled about finding me on the couch when he walked in. His disgust with me was obvious from the moment he closed the door.”
“Did he like Wes?”
“He tolerated him. He was older, able to do more work around the house. More valuable. I was expendable. It was a week later that he came into my room for the first time. I was asleep, and he sat down on the end of my bed. I woke up to his hand on my thigh. Even then I knew it was wrong, so I kicked him away. He just laughed, and when I did it again, he punched me. He broke my nose that night. I remember Hannah taking me to the ER the next day and telling the nurse some story. She made Wes go along with it. It wouldn't be the first time we had to lie to protect her.”
“He was hurting Hannah too?”
I nodded, as lighting struck in the sky, making Harper jump. I reached for her hand then, and she smiled, letting me know I should continue. “He was smarter when it came to hurting her. The bruises were always hidden by clothing, but we always knew. He left me alone for a few days, but he came back. This time, I woke to him removing my pajama bottoms. I tried to kick him away again, and he raised his fist high in the air. I covered my nose, and he laughed. His breath smelled like tequila, and I turned my face away.”
“Cole, you don't have to. I mean you don't have to go into detail. I understand how hard it is to talk about something like this.”
“I knew he was in control. When he started touching me, I started to cry. He flipped me over, and before I knew what was happening... Any way, Wes heard my muffled cries, and came inside. When he saw him on top of me, I guess he just lost it. He grabbed my baseball bat from behind the door, and hit him hard on the back of his head. He swore, jumping off me, holding the back of his head. When he turned to face Wes with anger, I pulled the blankets up over my head. I heard the baseball bat ping, ping, ping, and then a loud thud. I'll never forget the sound. I peered out from my hiding place, and Wes was covered in blood, and Jay, that was his name, his lifeless body was on my bedroom floor.”
“Where was Hannah?”
“We didn't know at the time, but Jay had beaten Hannah so bad that night, she was knocked unconscious. Wes was scared, but he said we had to call the police. I didn't want to tell them what Jay had done to me, but I told them it was me. That Wes only hit him to get him off me, and once he was on the ground, I hit him some more. They took us all to the hospital. The next morning we found out that Hannah didn't make it. After that, we refused to be split up. We had a great social worker, who actually gave a shit, and fought to keep us together, until Wes got hauled off to that wretched place you and Vanessa were in.”
“Your social worker couldn't help?”
“We'd used up all of our help. We'd caused too much trouble, and most foster families only wanted one child at a time. It was clear which of the two homes was the worst, so Wes sacrificed himself for me. It's why I feel like such a fuck up around him. I owe him my literal life.”
“What kind of trouble? What's worse than what happened to Hannah, and Jay?”
“The other foster homes we were shipped to were better, but they weren't perfect. One woman, would allow us an apple a day. The bathroom, fridge, freezer, everything had a lock on it. Wes got real sick, and he needed some medication. I begged her, but she wouldn't hear it, so I handled it myself. I broke into a pharmacy, and stole a bunch of antibiotics. I had no idea what they were for, but I went to the library. I looked up every last prescription. Wes got better, but I got busted. Of course when I'd do these things, and they'd find out why, I'd temporarily be excused. They'd feel bad for putting us in these situations, but it would just kept happening.”
“How do these people even get licenses? Vanessa, and I never should have gone to be with Mr. Bailey, and neither should Wes.”
“The reality is, the need for foster parents is high, and the screening just isn't as good as it should be. It's the reason Wes, and Zoe started Harper's House. If they can help one kid, it's better than none.”
“What else did you do?”
“Stole food, clothing, we slept in the janitor's closet in middle school for a week before we were even reported missing. We stole a car once, drove it all the way to Alabama.” I laughed, remembering when we'd run out of gas. “Wes tried to flirt with the gas station attendant for free gas, it almost worked too. If that cop hadn't been coming in at the same time to buy his damn donuts.”
“I don't see how any of these things would change how I feel about you Cole? You did what you had to do to survive. There's nothing wrong with that.”
“I haven't told you the worst thing yet.”
“What can be worse than watching your brother kill someone in front of you?”
“Getting that same brother's wife kidnapped.”
Harper's eyes grew wide, but not with fear, with shock. “I don't understand? Vanessa kidnapped Zoe.”
“I'm the one that gave her all the information she needed. The night we met at the bar, the night she was setting me up. I told her everything. We talked about our f
riends, our families. Of course her stories weren't real, but mine were. I told her about Wes falling in love with his best friend's little sister. I told her where she worked. I told her about Wes' work. I gave her everything.”
“That's how you knew to come to my house that day? That's how you knew to save her.”
“I'm no hero Sweetheart.”
“But- you didn't know. I mean how could you have known who she was?”
“Wes came to me, before Zoe was taken. He told me everything, I chose not to believe him. I couldn't let him be right. I couldn't let him think that I was that gullible.”
“Does he know?” She asked quietly.
“No, and you have to promise me that you'll never tell him.”
“Cole, I-”
“Promise me Harper.” I said, looking directly into her eyes. “Please.”
“OK. I promise.”
Chapter 5
After dropping Harper off at work, I headed to my apartment to pack the rest of my things. I was grateful to my boss for giving me the time off, because my head was all over the place. It felt good to get the truth off my chest, but I also felt like shit for burdening Harper with my secret. Wes had forgiven me for so many things in our lives, but I couldn't take the chance that he'd forgive me for this. Some secrets were just meant to be buried, and this was one of them.
I tossed all of my clothes into garbage bags, and gave them a shove down the stairs. I didn't need much else considering Harper's house was fully furnished so I placed my small appliances in boxes, and taped them up for donating. I took one last look around the place, making sure I'd gotten everything I needed, when something caught my eye. There was a piece of paper under the kitchen table. It was off a yellow legal pad, and it was folded in half. I crouched down reaching for it. It had my name written on it in cursive, and when I opened it, my eyes went straight to the bottom where it said “xoxo Vanessa.”
I was right, she was the one who tossed the place. Her little note confirmed it, reading “Thanks for holding onto my cash. You never know when you'll come across a rainy day.” I crumpled the paper up, and shoved it into my pocket, swearing under my breath. She must have come back after the fact, and left it just to fuck with me. I should have used a safety deposit box, or an off shore account, something. She's probably half way to Bora Bora laughing her ass off right now.
I locked the place up, and walked down to the super's office. I handed him my keys, and he said he'd be mailing my security deposit in a few days. I decided to head straight home, that way I could get everything unpacked before I had to pick Harper up from work. When I pulled my car into the garage, something just felt off. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and a chill crept down my back. I scanned the garage, but nothing seemed out of place.
It wasn't until I opened the car door, that I seen him. He was tall, with dark hair, and eyes, and he came rushing at me. I tried to duck when he swung, but he clocked me right in the left eye. “Fuck!” I yelled out, swinging hard at the brick wall of a man standing in front of me, but it turns out he was only a distraction. I felt a sharp sting in the back of my neck, and then, my world went black.
I came to some time later, and I was sitting behind the wheel of my car. My head throbbed like hell, and I instinctively tried to reach up and touch it, only my hands wouldn't move. My vision was blurry, and my left eye was swollen completely shut, but I could just make out the ropes around my wrists. They were tied to the steering wheel, and I realized the car was running. Squinting hard, I noticed the key was broken off in the ignition, and a quick check of the rear view mirror confirmed my fears. I was trapped. The garage door was shut, and I was breathing in exhaust fumes.
I tried to remember what time I pulled in, trying to gauge how long I'd been stuck here, but I couldn't think straight. I had just filled my car up on the way home so there was no hope that I'd run out of gas. I moved my leg, seeing if I could feel my cell phone in my pocket, I couldn't. “Fuck!” I roared, knowing exactly who had pulled this stunt. She may not have gotten her hands dirty, but I knew without a doubt that Vanessa was behind this.
I took a steadying breath. It was four thirty. Harper got out of work at five. When I don't show to pick her up, she'll call someone. Maybe she'll just walk home. It's a five minute walk. That's thirty five minutes. Forty five, if she waits. Do I even have that much time? I wondered. I tugged my hands hard against the rope, and I could feel it biting into my skin. There had to be a way out of this. I tried to bring my feet up but soon realized that they were tied down too.
I leaned as far forward as I could, attempting to honk the horn with my chest. I'd managed to bump it slightly, but not enough to emit a sound. If only I could lay on the horn, maybe a neighbor, or someone would hear it. I tried using my head next, even though it was throbbing so much I was seeing stars. A small beep echoed around me, so I tried again, and again, each time only making small beep sounds. I was going to die in here, I had no other choice. I bashed my head against the horn repeatedly, the sound filling the garage, until that's the last thing that I remembered.
When I came to again, I was laying in a bed. The lights were bright above me, and I had to squint to try and focus. My throat felt raw, and dry, and it felt like someone had taken a hammer to my head. I tried to focus on my surroundings, but my vision was almost nonexistent. I cleared my throat, hoping someone was near enough to hear me. It was then, that I heard Harper's voice.
“Cole!” She said, her voice shaky. “Don't try to speak OK. You're OK. You're at the hospital, I'm just going to run out and grab the doctor OK?”
I tried to nod my head, but the pain was just too much, so I closed my eyes tightly trying to block it out, and I waited. It wasn't long before Harper returned with a couple of nurses, and a doctor in tow.
“Glad to see you're awake son. My name is Dr. Bradford. You're head probably feels a little fuzzy right now, if you'd like something for the pain-”
“No.” I gritted out. “No drugs.”
“Mr. Stephens, you've had severe trauma to your head. You're going to be in quite a bit of pain for the next few days, weeks even. Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I whispered, barely audible.
“He's a recovering addict.” Harper said, placing her small hand over mine. “I can get him some Tylenol, or some ibuprofen if that's alright?”
“Of course. I'll be back later on to check your vitals Mr. Stephens. I'd like to run some tests on your vision as well, but we'll give you some time to adjust.”
“Water.” I said.
I heard shuffling around the room, as the doctor exited, and Harper poured me a glass of cool water from the pitcher. “Here.” She said softly, placing the straw to my lips. The cool liquid felt like heaven on my raw throat, and I guzzled it greedily. When I'd had enough, she pulled the cup away, and sat beside me on the bed. “Do you remember what happened?” She asked, rubbing her hand over my cheek.
“How? How did I get out?” I whispered.
“The neighbor heard you honking. At first he thought it was the car alarm going off. He came over to give you a piece of his mind, but when you didn't answer the door he grew concerned. He walked around to the back of the garage and peered in the window, and that's when he saw you slumped over the steering wheel. He broke the windows, hoping to let the exhaust clear out, and then he called 911, and then me. Cole, I have to ask.. was this Vanessa?”
“Who else would it be?” I asked, a bit harsher than I intended. Her intake of breath, made me feel like an ass. “I'm sorry.”
“No, it's alright. It was a dumb question.”
“At least we know not to invite her to the wedding. It seems she doesn't approve.”
“Dammit Cole!” She yelled, standing abruptly. “This isn't a damn joke! You could have died today! I almost lost you!”
I could hear her sobbing openly now, and I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my arms and tell her how sorry I was. I wasn't trying to make light of the situation, I w
as just trying to make her feel better. I knew she'd blame herself for Vanessa's actions, she always did. I started to pull myself up into a sitting position, gritting my teeth as I did. “Sweetheart.” I said, catching her attention.
“What are you doing!” She said, rushing back to my side. “Lay back down. Please.” She begged.
I patted the space beside me on the bed, and she eased down slowly. “Come here.” I said, blindly reaching for her, and pulling her down beside me. “I'm sorry.” I kissed the top her her head, and she buried her face into my chest sobbing softly. “I'm so sorry.” I said, kissing her again, and again, trying to show her that I was alright, and that I wasn't going anywhere. “All I kept thinking about was you. I was worried that she was going to come after you next. I kept thinking she was just waiting in the house for you. I had to get out of there. For you Harper. I love you.”
“I love you too.” She said, her tears finally dissipating. “Which is why I think we need to break up.”
Chapter 6
She wouldn't have been the first person in history who tried to breakup with someone for their own good, but I never thought I'd be on this side of things. She was too good for me, not the other way around. If anyone should have left to save the other, it was me. I actually laughed when she spoke the words, knowing that she didn't mean them. It only infuriated her, causing her to leave the hospital on a stomp. She was only gone an hour, before she came shyly back in, holding a takeout bag in her hands.
“I brought you some dinner.” She said, placing the bag on the table in front of me.
“Come here.” I gritted out.
“I know you're mad-”
“Come. Here.” I said, with more conviction this time. She cast her head down, before walking slowly towards me, and when she finally reached me, I raised my arm towards her face, and tipped her chin. “What did I tell you about looking down.”
“I just want to keep you safe.” She whispered, as a lone tear rolled down her face.