The Crashing Series

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  Once those words registered, I flung the door open without giving it a second thought. To my horror, I had just opened the door to one of the most gruesome sights I had ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Everything started to get foggy as a panic attack came on.

  The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the back of an ambulance with a paramedic telling me that I was safe now, wrapping a blanket around my shivering, wet, sticky body. I looked down at my hands to find a horrific sight of dried blood as the scene all rushed back into my mind. The sight of Candice’s lifeless body slumped over in her chair right across from the spot where I’d sat on the couch flooded my mind and made my eyes sting and water. In the spot I’d usually taken had been the man with the sunken, sad eyes. He’d stood with a look of fear, hate, and pain plastered on his pale face. All of the times I had seen him shuffle out of Candice’s office, I’d never thought of him as dangerous or deranged, just a sad-looking man with lifeless eyes.

  I was ripped away from my thoughts by the repeated question, “Miss? May we ask you a few questions? I’m Officer Rogers.”

  I finally willed my eyes to focus and made eye contact with a short, plump officer who was gripping a pad and pen in his hands. He looked at me with sympathetic eyes that I knew all too well from the looks people had given me once they’d found out I was a widow. I swallowed while my voice shook. “Y-yes, of c-course. I-I’m Margret McManus. I-I am…uh…was Dr. Davenport’s patient.”

  He put a comforting hand on my shoulder and continued. “I need to know everything you saw, Ms. McManus. Whatever you can remember will be helpful.”

  I nodded, tears streaming from my eyes. “There was a terribly loud sound that burst through the entire office, and the receptionist said it was a gunshot, so I reacted. Right after I opened the door and the evil, hollow man saw me in the doorway, he briefly aimed his pistol at me then shot himself in the head and fell onto the couch. I ran to Candice’s body and wrapped her up in my arms, rocking her until the police arrived, and they pulled me out of the office while I tried to hang on to her, begging them to help her.”

  All of the words spilled from my lips without me realizing it. Until that moment, I hadn’t even registered what had happened. I ended my story with choking sobs and I apologized to Officer Rogers for my hysterics.

  Grabbing a hankie out of his pocket, he handed it to me. “Thank you, Ms. McManus. Your account is going to be very helpful. Please don’t apologize. What you saw was very traumatic. Is there someone I can call to come and get you?”

  I nodded, and without realizing it, my mother’s number rattled off my tongue. I was in shock. She was the last person I would have consciously considered as my emergency contact, but there was a little part of me that just wanted the comfort of my mom.

  It didn’t take more than ten minutes for my mom’s little silver Prius to come zooming into the crime scene like a bat out of Hell. She flew out of the driver’s seat and rushed to my side, where one of the paramedics was helping me wash some of the blood off my arms and hands.

  My mother shrieked when she saw me. “Oh, my baby! Are you hurt?!” She shrieked again, and the paramedic explained that it wasn’t my blood while my tongue was tied into a million knots.

  I still couldn’t make eye contact with her, but I mustered up a fake smile. “Thanks for coming so quickly, Mom. I really want to get home and take a shower. I need to wash this appalling sight off of me and out of my mind.”

  Surprisingly, my mom did not play twenty questions with me or even protest leaving the paramedics’ care without making them do a strip-search on me for a just-in-case exam for something they might have missed. All she did was wrap her arm around my waist and hold me, whispering under her breath, “Thank God you’re all right, sweetheart.”

  As we drove to my house in silence, I stared blankly out the window. A sigh of relief came over me when I saw that Walker’s truck was not in the driveway. I had not gotten around to telling my mom about how my relationship with him had evolved, and I was not prepared to hear the “I knew it. I told you that you two were meant to be together” speech.

  We walked into the house and my mom made a beeline for the kitchen while I made my way to the stairs to escape into my shower for as long as possible. Once I was halfway up the stairs, my mom called up to me, “Do you want me to stay, honey? I could make you and Walker something for dinner.”

  It took a second, but it clicked. I turned quickly to face my mom, arms crossed, glaring at her, half mad and half confused. “What do you mean, me and Walker?”

  She looked a little nervous for a second and then fessed up. “I know you two are living together.” Rage started to boil, threatening to spill over.

  I fought it back and calmly let only one word escape, knowing that if I attempted more, I would lash out hastily and never get the answer. “How?”

  “Umm…” I glared at her, ready to start screaming when she paused, but I think she saw it first and made the right move to not piss me off at the moment. “I’m in the book club with Liz. She assumed I knew about the arrangement, and I never corrected her.”

  Before I could freak out completely, the front door crashed open with a panicked Walker standing in the doorway. “Oh, Mags, I was so fucking worried! I saw there was a shooting on the news at your doctor’s office. When I got there, they didn’t know who you were.” His chest heaved from his deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down. “I was so fucking scared you were hurt.” And with that, he was on the stairs next to me, hugging my body so tight into his, making it difficult for me to breathe. My world stopped and my heart started to calm down for the first time since the gunshot had pierced my ears.

  He looked down at me, pressing his cheek against mine. I smiled, gently pushing him away. “I’m all right, just a little shaken up.”

  My mom gave a fake cough to remind us that she was there, still standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at us. Walker quickly whipped around. “Thanks for bringing Mags home, Elena.”

  My mom smiled warmly with an eyebrow raise that tempted my temper to flare again. “Not a problem, Walker. Well, my work here is done. Margret, I will call you in the morning to check on you.”

  Thankful she was leaving so easily, I agreed and thanked her for being there for me. Once the door was shut behind my mom, Walker picked me up and carried me right into the shower. “I figured you would want to clean up a little bit, babe. I’ll just be right outside if you need me.” Walker reached in, turned the water on to warm up, kissed me on the cheek, and went into my room. I could hear the TV drone from behind the closed door. A sense of relief came over me from knowing that Walker was so close, ready to jump into action at any moment to protect me.

  I made the mistake of looking in the mirror before getting ready to hop in the shower. My hair was matted with blood from the tips up about five inches. My right cheek had a few blood streaks running across it, and both of my arms and hands had a faint residue of crimson, as did my shirt and the top of my jeans. I was a ghastly sight, and the horrors started to replay in my head. Over and over, I was rocking my therapist’s motionless body in my arms, hot, sticky blood pouring out of her chest and all over me.

  Making my way under the hot water, I sat on the floor and held myself for as long as the water stayed scalding. Every now and then, I scrubbed my entire body as hard as I could with my loofah. I cried out loud, screamed, thrashed, and trembled.

  I remained motionless, dripping wet, even after I turned off the water, until a gentle tapping came from the door. Without waiting for my response, Walker came into the bathroom with a big fluffy towel and a glass of red wine. After setting the wine on the counter and wrapping the towel around my body, he helped me out of the shower. The warmth from the fluffy fabric sent goose bumps all over my chilled body.

  “Walker, this is so sweet of you!”

  He rubbed his hands over my body to help the towel dry me off. “It’s always comforting to have a right-out-of-the-dryer towel.”<
br />
  The Walker I always had seen had been a jerk most of the time, with gentleman-like undertones. I’d had no idea how amazingly romantic, thoughtful, and caring he truly was. It almost made me feel bad for never peeling back the layers of his personality until now, but I just chalked it up to it being better late than never.

  I took the wine from the counter and got dressed in the comfiest pair of pajamas I could find. Ever since Walker had moved in, I’d stopped wearing Randy’s old clothes and started wearing my lounge pants and tank tops to sleep. I didn’t think it was respectful to either of the men for me to don Randy’s clothes in bed with Walker. It became another small victory for me. Sleeping in Randy’s clothes had always helped me feel like he was still curled up close to me at night. It was one less thing I relied on him for.

  We crawled into bed, sipping on wine with the TV on for background noise. He did not pressure me to talk about what had happened. For the most part we sat in silence, me in his arms, him stroking my side gently with his fingertips until I was lulled into a peaceful sleep.

  Twenty-two

  For a little over a week, I was in zombie mode again. I had repeated nightmares of the horrific murder of my therapist. Even though she had only been in my life for a short period of time, Candice Davenport had become very instrumental in my healing process and my newfound happiness. It was just one more setback my mind could not seem to deal with.

  Even though I begged them not to, the guys postponed their fishing trip so Walker and Jim could stay and help take care of me. I took the rest of the week off work, using the time to lock myself in my house, eat junk food, and hang out with Walker.

  Luckily, he was good at being silent, caring, and doting. I was so thankful he was there. Every night, he held me while my nightmares took over, waking me up in panics and sobs. He would rock me to sleep in his strong, protective arms, stroking my hair, kissing my cheeks and whispering that everything was going to be all right. He always made it a point to remind me that he would never let anything hurt me.

  A little too fast, Monday morning rolled around again, signaling the first day back to work. I rolled over to crack my eyes just enough to see that the clock on my nightstand said that I had two more hours to sleep, but my body was saying otherwise. The stab of longing for my late husband hit my heart when I remembered the dream I’d had about him. Between the two of us, Randy had been the more romantic one and loved to surprise me as often as he could. I had dreamt about one morning when he’d woken me up with a bouquet of long-stem red roses and instructed me to get dressed.

  Randy had called me out of work sick before I had even woken up so I wouldn’t feel guilty about playing hooky, saying, “Well, what’s done is done. It would be a waste to not take advantage of it.” We ended up driving to the historic district of St. Augustine and running around the old city exploring. He had made reservations at an upscale restaurant on the water and for a beautiful suite at a historical hotel. For no particular reason, he’d showed me time and time again how much he cared about me.

  Memories and dreams like those made it impossible to push my pain away, and I felt like the wind had been knocked from my chest. Burning tears formed in my eyes as I pulled my pillow on top of my face, trying to fight back the flood of emotions. The only relief this dream gave was that the grotesque scene of Candice’s bloody body wrapped in my arms while I knelt on the floor screaming and crying had left me alone for one evening.

  All of a sudden, my senses were awakened when the other side of my bed moved a little. Shit! Walker! My best friend turned new roommate slash lover had not crossed my mind until that point. Realizing I had completely forgotten about him for a moment sent guilt flying through my body. I took a deep breath as his arms grabbed for me, pulling my back into his exposed burly upper body. Feeling his warmness made me relax slightly, finally remembering that he was amazingly comforting at times like this.

  For the next few minutes, I let myself push Randy, my adulterous feelings, and my horrible memories out of my mind, trying to enjoy Walker’s smooth, bare ruggedness pressing against me. He gently stroked my arm, lulling me back into light sleep until my alarm clock rudely interrupted our cuddling. I could feel Walker sigh against my neck, leaning over me to hit the snooze button.

  My eyes shot open and I reluctantly pulled away from his slightly aroused body, climbing out of bed. As I scampered off to the bathroom for a steaming hot shower, he grumbled about only needing five minutes in a husky drawl.

  As the water cascaded down my back, my stiffness finally started to unwind. Missing my husband was never going to go away; I just wished that the guilt of still living would. Now with Candice on my conscience too, the pain was amplified.

  I willed myself to push the aching thoughts out of my head, trying to replay Candice’s great advice over and over in my mind.

  “Margret, I don’t want you to think you have to forget about your loved ones who are gone and get over them. Life is about remembering the good times and reminding yourself that there is always still good in the world. Can you try to do that?”

  I could hear her voice and I promised again—to her and to myself—that I was going to embrace life and honor my loved ones’ lives that way. Both Randy and Candice would not want me to be sad that they were no longer with me, but to be glad I’d had them in my life.

  I felt a new sense of strength, a small ember starting to glow in the pit of my stomach. It was a wonderful little spark of courage and I was planning on running with it. With a swift kiss to Walker’s cheek as he still slept curled up in my blankets, I was off to work.

  The day passed by slowly. Finally, I looked at my phone, seeing that I only had five more minutes of boredom and a missed text message from Walker. A smile formed on my lips as I read:

  I have a surprise for you. See you soon :)

  Butterflies flitted in my stomach, excited that Walker was being romantic. He was caring, but there had always been something holding him back. In the last week, it seemed like he had been coming out of his shell a little bit, and it was time for it to break wide open.

  I flew out of my office and rushed home. I was so thankful that the traffic on my hour drive home was lighter than usual. When I opened the front door, I was saddened to find the house empty. Sullenly, I went into the kitchen to open up my wine fridge. I grabbed a bottle of Pinot and went to the cupboard for a wine glass. In front of my stemware was a card with my name scrawled across the front in Walker’s impressively neat handwriting. I smiled and opened up the card to read:

  Thought I would stand you up? I think you know me a little better than that, Mags! Surprised at how well I know you? Be ready by 7:30. Wear something comfortable. Jeans and boots are preferred ;) Pour yourself that glass of wine and get ready!

  -Walker

  I grinned and giggled to myself like a schoolgirl. Glancing down at my phone, I realized I had just about an hour to get ready. I did as Walker had instructed, pouring a glass full of my nectar, and headed up the stairs to get ready. I pulled my hair out of the low ponytail and turned my flat iron on. Redoing my eye makeup into a smoky eye and straightening my hair made me feel a little bit sexier than usual. I grabbed my favorite pair of boot-cut, low-rise, dark-washed jeans and a light pink tank top, then checked myself out in the mirror. I smiled at myself, satisfied with my efforts. As I was pulling on my boots, my phone vibrated on the bed next to me with a text message from Walker:

  You have five minutes. Come downstairs when you’re ready.

  The butterflies returned as I headed down the stairs to find Walker standing in the front room waiting for me. He looked incredibly handsome. His military-style haircut had just been trimmed up, but his slightly scruffy, three-day-old beard left a sexy shadow on his strong jawline that drove me crazy. He was wearing a tight-fitting black button-down that clung to his large arms. His loose-fitting jeans were pulled over his snakeskin boots. I couldn’t help but melt a little when I realized that he was holding a single long stem red
rose.

  Walker’s warm green eyes met mine as we both smiled at each other. He reached out his free hand to take mine, his voice soft and inviting. “You look perfect. I hope you’re ready.”

  I walked to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, giving him a tight squeeze. “Thank you for this,” I whispered into his ear and kissed his cheek, taking the rose and setting it on the front room table. He opened the door for me and we were off on our adventure.

  The entire time we were driving, Walker held my hand, running his thumb in circles in my palm. Riding with him and just talking about our days was incredible. His warm smile spread across his face every time I started to tell him even the simplest of stories. Walker really was a fantastic listener, always waiting for me to finish and chiming in with input at all the correct times.

  I was happily surprised when we pulled into the parking lot of Charlie’s. I guess Walker really does know me well. He squeezed my hand and looked over at me with his sexy half-smile. “I thought this was more our speed. Todd is working. Don’t worry, I checked.” I smiled back at him and started to get out of the truck, so excited to see my favorite bartender, even though the last time we’d talked he’d caught me off guard. Now that Walker and I were no longer hiding our relationship, I was kind of excited to show Todd that he’d been right all along.

  When we walked into Charlie’s, I could see that on the backs of our regular barstools there were papers taped on, saying that they were reserved. I smiled and squeezed Walker’s hand. “This is perfect,” I cooed, kissing his soft lips. He grinned and led me over to the bar, pulling out my seat while I waved at a familiar flamboyant smile at the other end of the bar.

  Todd greeted us with our usual beers and didn’t even have to ask what we wanted to eat, making sure to shoot me a knowing glance and a quick wink right when we sat down. We sat, talking and laughing with Todd, who, after all of these years, was more of a friend than a bartender. He kept the beer flowing, and after about twenty minutes of chatting, our burgers came out just the way we liked them. Mine was smothered with extra sharp cheddar melted over crispy bacon, covered with jalapeños, lettuce, tomato, and red onion. Walker’s was dripping with barbecue sauce, sautéed onions, lettuce, tomato, raw onions, and pickle chips. My mouth watered through every delectable bite. I giggled as barbecue sauce slid down Walker’s chin and I wiped it away for him.