The Redemption of Nixon Thorne

by T Steele

  Fuck! Why am I such an idiot?!

  Adrenaline and nerves keep me running. It’s dark outside, with nothing but the light of the full moon. The light will have to be enough for now. I don't want to turn the flashlight from my phone on and give my location away. He’s already running on my heels, and the thought sends fear through me like I’ve never known before. I almost wish it were darker outside, that the full moon wasn’t so bright.

  There’s nothing but trees that surround this cabin and I have no clear destination in mind. My survival instincts are urging me to get away from Tackett’s weapon and hide.

  “Ella!” he yells out in a sing-song voice. “You know I’m going to find you!”

  I sob, crisscrossing through trees.

  Another shot rings out. I hear it hit a tree nearby, and I can’t help but turn around to see where he is.

  When I do, I wish I wouldn’t have because he’s close. With his stature, you wouldn’t think he’d be this fast, but his determination to have me must give him the speed he needs.

  I go to grab my phone and my hands tremble. My breaths are coming out fast and there’s a stitch in my side, but I make my fingers press the numbers: 911.

  As soon as I’m about to hit the green button that signals the call, another shot rings out. This time it’s closer than the last.

  I scream, dropping the phone. I bend down to pick it up, and Tackett yells, “I wouldn’t if I were you. I’m the one with the weapon.”

  I freeze once more, clenching my fist and then I throw my head back, screaming into the night air. My sadness and fear and frustration mingling together are making me sound like a ferocious beast, but it’s my only hope that someone out in these woods will hear me and come to my aid.

  I turn around, chest heaving. “That day at school when Nixon found the pictures you took of me,” I spit the words. “What did you do? How did you get rid of the evidence?”

  “Oh, it was quite easy. You see, we were doing a science project that day with sulfuric acid. Once the boy was taken out of the room, all I had to do was throw the old Polaroid and the pictures into the bucket of acid.” He raises his hands, showing odd and patchy looking scars there. “I got burnt a little, but they could barely tell underneath all the other cuts and bruises from Nixon. I won’t lie, the boy had a mean punch, but I made myself crawl to that bucket because I knew if they found the beautiful pictures, they wouldn’t understand. And it just wasn’t our time yet. Nixon had ruined that,” he sighs. “I really don’t know why you continued to hang out with him.”

  It feels like someone is squeezing my heart with a vice-like grip. How could it be that easy? He’d gotten off completely free because of luck? The luck of him deciding to do that project that day. And poor Nixon had to suffer the consequences with no one believing him. My heart beats so forcefully that it threatens to break through my chest. I find it hard to breathe at the unfairness of it all, and the fact that Nixon is still at the cabin bleeding with a gunshot wound means the one job I had, I’d failed. And now I don’t know if I can get him the help he needs. Sobs wrack my body, tearing up my throat while bile races up my esophagus, and I dry heave onto the grass.

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “How did you even find us here? Jesus Christ, we’re in fucking Montana! How?”

  “A simple tracking device that I placed on Nixon’s truck. I don’t know why you seem so surprised. You know I like gadgets and technology.”

  My head drops into my hands as my shoulders shake. How am I going to get out of this now? Should I just run again? Keep running and running until I hopefully wear him out. It could work. He’s not in good shape, but neither is Nixon in his current state.

  “So, you killed my aunt?” I ask through the tears.

  “Yes, but she deserved it. She was supposed to be mine. Only mine and she wouldn’t be. She just wouldn’t see reason. But you’re smarter than her. You’re better for me. I was just choosing the wrong girl. Clearly, you were the right one all along,” he smiles.

  “Can you just leave? Maybe we can talk through this later, but I’m tired. I need a good night's sleep for tonight. Maybe we could talk tomorrow?” I say the words, even though I know I’m just stalling. There’s no way he’ll fall for that trick, it’s the oldest trick in the book. He’s here now. He’s got me, and he’s not leaving.

  “But I just got you back,” he says softly, adoringly, like he's my lover, and I feel like I might vomit again.

  “You can’t,” I sniffle, trying to wipe the tears from my eyes. “You can’t have me.”

  It was the wrong thing to say, and I knew it would be, but I’m done pretending. I hate him. Hate him so much and wish only the worst of the worst would happen to him. I’m just tired. So, so tired. Besides, I don’t think he was ever going to let me go. This situation with him was always going to end badly because no one ever knew what he was truly capable of. That sometimes, the devil himself can hide behind even the most harmless-looking man.

  “I will have you!” he says adamantly.

  “I hate you! You should have died instead of my aunt! She should have drowned your disgusting ass in that lake, and I can only hope karma will deliver the sweetest of revenge to you. You repulse me and I hope you rot in hell!” My voice becomes raw and hoarse from screaming, and my skin feels too tight over my bones. It feels thin, like candle wax that’s about to melt from the fire lit within me. The burning rage that I’ve kept inside for so long, the repression of my feelings, is finally being set free.

  “I’ll never love you!” I continue, unable to stop now. “No one ever could! You’re desperate and disgusting and repulsive. You have to beg underage girls to get with you because you can’t get with women your own age!”

  Now is when he pulls out his gun again. There’s sweat beading on his brow as his trembling hand points the gun at me.

  “There have been others,” he says. “Other girls who have allowed me to take their pictures and they were just fine with it. They wanted me, but I held out. For you! Because you’re all I wanted!” Spit flies from his mouth, and his voice comes out brittle and thin.

  My heart sinks for the other girls. The ones who were also too afraid to tell.

  I rub my hand over my chest because it hurts. It hurts terribly.

  Tackett cocks his gun, and though it doesn’t seem like he’s that good with a weapon, with his close proximity, I bet he would still hit me.

  I’m gasping for breath, my terror and emotions are so powerful they’re overwhelming me to the point of no return.

  “If I can’t have you, then no one can,” he says shakily.

  “If you cared about me like you said you did, you wouldn’t pull the trigger!” I say, scrambling for an excuse. For anything.

  “No, you’ve proven you will never see reason. I care about you more than anyone, and I will grieve when you’re gone, but you will see the light of day no more. It’s time to join your aunt, Ella Black.”

  He pulls the trigger, and I squeeze my eyes shut, bringing my hands up to cover my face as if they’ll stop a bullet. But pain never comes.

  There’s a loud groan followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground, and I open my eyes.

  Only to see Nixon, lying on the ground with another gunshot wound.

  WHERE DID HE COME FROM?

  “NO!” I scream, running to him right when the sound of police sirens ring out in the distance. I reach Nixon, and his eyes are wide, and he’s breathing heavily. I cup his cheeks, and they're cool and clammy.

  “Oh my God, no. No. No. No. This can’t be happening. You’re going to be okay, you’ve gotta be, alright? Because I love you! I love you so much I feel like I need you to breathe. You can’t leave me. Not now. Please don't leave me!”

  “Ella,” he croaks out. “You have to run…”

  “I’m not leaving you!” My voice doesn’t even sound like my own.

  Nixon smiles. “I love you, too,” he says with a shaky breath. “I have for a while
now.”

  A half-laugh, half-sob, comes out of my mouth. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard,” I tell him. “You’re going to be okay, though. You will be. You have to be, okay? Just hang on. I’m going to help you!”

  Nixon tries to smile at me, but it comes out more of a grimace. “I knew,” he breathes out, “that it was possible for the angel to fall for the devil. You’re the only one who ever showed me any goodness. The only one who ever believed in me. Thanks, little fox.” And then he closes his eyes.

  “Nixon! No!” I scream, letting my head fall to his chest while I sob, but I still feel a dull heartbeat, and the sirens are getting closer and closer.

  I look up at Tackett, who still has a gun raised at me and I don’t know what to do. There’s nowhere to run or hide, and I’m not leaving Nixon.

  He stares into my eyes intensely, like he’s memorizing my face before he turns the gun around on himself and pulls the trigger.

  Chapter 26

  Nixon

  I feel like I’ve been hit by a semi-truck. My body is sore and heavy. I try to open my eyes, but my eyelids feel like concrete slabs are sitting on them, and I start to panic when they don’t open. Then comes the sound of beeping and quiet voices, and something small and soft grips my hand.

  “Nixon, if you can hear me, I’m holding a straw to your lips. Drink, baby.”

  Mom?

  It takes a few tries, but I finally move my lips enough to drink some water. It’s lukewarm like it’s been sitting out for a while, and it burns going down. I’m feeling like I just swallowed sandpaper.

  I try to talk, but only a grunt comes out instead.

  When I finally open my eyes, there are two blurred figures standing together, but the thing that stands out the most is the bright red hair that’s pulled up into a messy bun.

  “Ella,” I mumble, wondering if she’s an apparition of my dreams before it all comes storming back to me.

  Tackett showing up, shooting me, trying to kill Ella.

  The monitor starts beeping loudly once more, and then I hear a scuffle and more voices. One I don’t recognize—maybe a nurse? I blink rapidly before my vision finally clears, and I see my mom and Ella watching me with teary eyes.

  “You’re okay,” I whisper with a voice that sounds like grinding metal.

  Ella nods and comes rushing to my bedside, hugging me gently before sobs wrack her body.

  “I’m so sorry.” She keeps repeating the words into my neck, and then my mom comes to my other side, running her fingers through my hair. Looking just as wrecked as Ella.

  “Are you in pain?” my mom asks, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “No,” I say, and she gives me a look as if to say “quit being stoic” and I grin at her, closing my eyes. Everything goes dark once more as I fall into a deep sleep.

  Later, when I wake up again, it’s night and there’s only a dim light in the hospital room. My mom is still by my bedside, and Ella is curled up in a chair, asleep at an odd angle, and I wish she could climb into this bed with me.

  “She hasn’t left your side,” my mom whispers.

  “Have the police…” I trail off, not knowing how to finish the sentence, half afraid I’m going to get sent back to prison even though I did nothing wrong.

  “Yes, they were here and questioned Ella, but it’s a good thing you recorded that man’s awful words, Nix. It might not have been good if not…but they did say they were going to dismiss your charges and clear your records.” My mom’s voice breaks, and her lip trembles. “You’re innocent, baby. Completely innocent.”

  A lump forms in my throat, and I clench my fists at my sides. Tackett had told me once I’d woken up that he had drugged me earlier in the day, via the takeout Ella and I had ordered. At the time, I barely knew my own name. But when Ella woke up and I saw the look on her face and heard her voice, my muddled mind knew that I had to act fast. I had broken the headboard first, then rolled off the bed onto the floor. Lying on my stomach, I had used my teeth to untangle the ropes. Then, I half-crawled, half-limped to my phone, and out into the woods to find Ella.

  When I heard her screams, nothing else had mattered, and something out there—God, an angel, the universe—had been watching over us. Reminding me to push the record button on my phone. And even with all the pain I had been in, I’d still had the strength to save her.

  If only the authorities would have looked into it more back then, though, maybe this never would have happened. Now, we’ll have to live with these emotional and physical scars for the rest of our lives, and there’s nothing we can do about it. One thing I know for sure, though, is that I’m glad he’s dead. After all he’s done, it’s what he deserves.

  My mom bends down and kisses my forehead. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through all this, baby.”

  “Me too, mom,” I say. “But I’m okay. He’s gone now, and I’ll never have to worry about him again.”

  “You sure risked a lot for this girl,” my mom whispers softly. “You sure she’s worth it?”

  If it was anyone other than my mom, I would flip the fuck out on them for even asking such a thing, but she’s just trying to protect me.

  “Yes,” I say without hesitation.

  She grins. “When she hasn’t been hysterical, she’s seemed really nice.”

  I chuckle, then wince. “So, lay it on me. What’s wrong with me now? How many times did I get shot?”

  “Stop laughing,” she hisses, now on the verge of crying herself. “It’s not funny, you shouldn’t be joking about it. You could have died, dammit!”

  I knew this was coming.

  “Mom, I know. I’m just dealing with it the only way I know how right now,” I tell her, but honestly, I’m scared shitless. Will this ruin my chance at becoming a professional MMA fighter? That’s been my ultimate goal for I don’t know how long now, and I’m hoping like hell I can still achieve it.

  “Doctors say you should have a full recovery, but it will take months of physical therapy.”

  Months. It’s not the greatest news I’ve heard, but considering everything that’s just gone down, I’ll take it. I’m just thankful that Ella and I survived. That we’re okay, and this nightmare can be put behind us. The mental scarring will take time to heal, but that walking, living demon that had haunted us is gone for good, and Ella will no longer live in fear of him.

  Just then, Ella stirs, and my mom and I watch as she comes to, leaving the remnants of sleep behind. She sits up quickly, then her eyes snap to mine and hold. So many emotions and questions and unspoken words show in her ocean-like eyes.

  “Come here,” I say, and it feels a little odd being so gentle with someone in front of my mom, but I’m desperate for her touch. To feel her. To make sure she’s real and alive and breathing.

  She comes to me, a little wobbly, but quickly. When she reaches me, it’s like we collide until it’s only us living on top of a cloud with no one else. We’re floating, riding out the emotions that threaten to overtake us.

  “Are you hurt?” I whisper, and then I hear the door shutting and look up, noticing my mom has left. She must be giving us privacy.

  She lets out some noise I can’t quite decipher, somewhere between amusement and horror. “Nixon, you’re lying in a hospital bed having just taken a bullet for me, and you’re asking if I’m hurt?” Her eyes are wide and watery as she stares at me.

  “Of course,” I say. “Ella, you have no idea how terrified I was for you. Laying there in that cabin, hearing you scream, I…I’ll never forget that. I felt useless. I was supposed to be the one protecting you, and I couldn’t.” I rush the words out because I need her to know that I’m sorry, that I never wanted her to have to go through that. I wish I could go back and kill Tackett myself for the terror he’s caused.

  “Nixon,” she murmurs softly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m okay. I’m okay and safe, and it’s all thanks to you. You saved me. More than once. How can you apologize to me? You’re my l
iving, breathing superhero.”

  Her words open up something inside I long thought was dead. The feeling of accomplishment, and actually being the hero for once. It almost killed me, but we made it. We’re here and alive. Survivors.

  “I knew,” I breathe out, voice full of emotion, “it was possible for me to save you one day. I just didn’t know that you would save me too.”

  “We saved each other,” she whispers, cupping my face, smoothing her thumbs over my cheekbones. “All my broken and tattered pieces loved all of your broken and tattered pieces, and now they are melded, fitting together perfectly.”

  “So, the rotten peasant will finally win the princess?” I ask grinning. “The devil won the grace of an angel?”

  She frowns. “Don’t talk like that. If anything, it’s the other way around. What is purer than risking your life for another?” She wipes away furious tears. “I can’t believe you did that. The only reason I’m alive is because of you.” She rests her head on my chest and cries, careful not to come near my bandages. “Thank you,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

  I splay my hand on her back, gently rubbing back and forth. “I would do it again,” I tell her. “I would do it again, not only because it’s the right thing, but because I love you.”

  She lifts her head from my chest and smiles at me. She looks a mess, but she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  “God, I love you, too. So, so much.”

  She bends down and presses her lips against mine softly, but I still feel it down to my bones.

  Chapter 27

  Ella

  Six months have passed. After Nixon was cleared to leave the hospital, we’d paid my parents a visit. Imagine their surprise when I walked through the door with a tall, muscular, tattooed man that they’ve never met before.

  I’d told them everything. We all cried together. My parents had felt so guilty, but I had repeated that it wasn’t their fault and that if it weren’t for them and their love and support, I would've struggled even more than I had. When they’d realized what Nixon had done, first going to prison for beating Tackett so badly, and then taking a bullet for me, my parents had literally fallen to their knees before him. My dad even hugged Nixon’s legs, crying while he thanked him. It was a scene I would never forget, and it’s still hard to think about. Still hard not to dissociate, feeling numb, when thinking of that whole two months of meeting Nixon and then going through everything we’d gone through. It was a truly terrible time, but meeting Nixon is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I would never want to take that back.