There’s a ringing in my ears, accompanied by a whooshing—my blood pressure or adrenaline drowning everything else out. My face is hot. My hand is starting to hurt less. I register all of this.
But I still can’t see his face, even as my fist makes contact over and over.
And over.
I want to kill him.
I’m going to kill him.
I can’t stop.
I don’t want to stop.
As my hand slams into his flesh, it doesn’t feel like I’m striking hard enough. I strain the muscles through my arm, trying to put more pressure behind each hit. I need to hurt him. He needs to feel pain. Pure. Fucking. Agonizing. Pain.
Something touches my arm. I shake it off, needing to continue my assault. Pressure on my back gives me pause for half a second. I cock my head to the side, nostrils flaring as I try to catch my breath.
I meet Annie’s wide eyes. Take note of the tears streaming unendingly down her face. Her bruised face. I turn my attention back to the limp pile of bloodied flesh and broken bones beneath me.
He bruised her face. He made her cry.
He hurt her.
He fucking hurt her.
I raise my hand, popping my arm back. It shakes. My whole body is vibrating. I can’t stop it. It’s the merciless rage roiling through my veins.
“Chase, please,” Annie chokes. “I don’t think he’s breathing.”
My eyes flick down to his chest. His arms lay limply across the floor where my knees are positioned on each side of his torso. Annie’s right, it doesn’t look like he’s breathing.
Something catches in my throat, but all I can think is…Good.
“You care after what he did to you?” I ask, my voice coming out unwillingly ferocious.
She moves to my side and I look up at her. My chest is heaving and sweat trickles down my temples. I let my eyes find her face again. Take in the red and purple skin there. My gaze lowers to her throat. Scarlet fingerprints line her neck. I clench my fist and narrow my eyes. My jaw is set so tightly it feels like I could break teeth.
Annie shakes her head, her blood-splattered blonde hair clinging to her neck. “I’m not worried about him,” she says, her tone slow, careful. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m not the one he…” I trail off, not able to speak the words. More images fire through my mind’s eye—Annie’s body pressed to the floor, pinned beneath his weight, his hand clutching her throat. Her lips were blue. God, her lips were fucking blue and he wasn’t stopping. Her fingers curled into small, loose fists, as she weakly tried to fight him off. And the sound…
I flinch as Annie’s hand rests on my shoulder. “This isn’t you,” she whispers. It comes out sounding like a plea. Like she’s begging me to be different. To be somebody else.
But this is me. I know, because I’m doing it.
This isn’t the first time I’ve hit someone for Annie.
I protect what’s mine.
“Chase.” My name quivers through her lips and I drop my arm. I push up to my feet and the small gathering of students, crowded outside the open door, finally catches my attention. They’re all staring at me with mixed expressions. Fear, confusion, repulsion. I know what they see when they look at me. The hair and tattoos. The freak that used his bare hands to tear apart the golden boy.
A girl has her hand over her mouth, her eyes focused on the gruesome mess at my feet. Another closes her eyes to block the sight. And another can’t stop shaking her head.
They begin to part, moving to the side as campus security pushes through. I step back and hold up my raw, blood-covered hands as prompted.
“Chase?” Annie repeats my name and I offer her a tight smile.
“I’m good.”
My hands are jerked behind me, cuffs placed securely on my wrists, and then I’m shoved through the doorway. I’m guided down the hallway, past gaping students.
I hang my head so I don’t have to look at them—I just don’t have the energy to address their silent questions. Not because I’m ashamed of what I did. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I feel no disgrace for beating the life out of that sadistic piece of shit.
My feet falter with the thought. I’m shoved from behind. The cuffs twist painfully with the bulky officer’s rough movements.
“Keep moving,” he commands with another jerk on the cuffs.
I tilt my head, glancing back to where Annie should be. I can’t be sure because there are so many people blocking the hallway. I keep gazing back, hoping to catch one last sight of her, just so I know she’s really okay. To make all of this worth it. As we’re rounding the corner, someone moves, allowing her to come into view. She looks at me, the tears still falling unchecked as she struggles with security. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I see her battered lips moving, her movements frantic. And then I’m in another hallway, that last image of her stuck in my mind.
47
Here With Me
Annie
Present
My mom and Alec arrive at the hospital minutes after the doctor finishes her exam. I’m waiting on the police to come in and get my statement when the curtain is peeled back hesitantly and my mom’s worried eyes meet mine.
We haven’t ever been as close as a mother and daughter should—I’ve always held her at arm’s length, blaming her, resenting her—but she’s here. I needed her and she came.
Sometimes you just need your mom.
She hurries forward, her arms engulfing me in a gentle but secure hug. And I lose it all over again, bursting into loud, wailing sobs.
“What happened?” she asks, her grip tightening around me, pulling me into her chest.
I just shake my head. I don’t want to do this—to relive it more times than I need to.
“It’s okay, honey. You’re safe now. Everything will be all right.”
I cry louder because I don’t believe her. How can anything be all right ever again? What’s happening to Chase? It’s not all right that they arrested him. It’s not all right that I’m not with him.
Nothing is all right.
I look up quickly at the sound of a masculine throat clearing, my muscles tensing. Rationally, I know it’s not Loden. Can’t be. He’s somewhere in this hospital, unconscious. Chase made sure Loden couldn’t come after me, at least not yet. But all rationality flew out the door the moment I found Loden in my bedroom.
Two police officers introduce themselves. As soon as they say their name’s it’s gone, my mind unable to save this information right now. The taller one opens a notepad, ready to take my statement.
With a stuttering breath, I begin to recount everything, my voice a raspy croak. I start with the very first time Loden hit me, back when we were dating. I explain his constant presence when I’d go out, the phone calls, the incident at the Halloween party last month.
And then I tell them everything I can remember about tonight. I’m careful the entire time I talk to keep my eyes on my hands, sitting in my lap. I refuse to look at my mom or Alec. I never spoke a word of any of this to them. They liked Loden and never really understood why we hadn’t worked out.
I know they must be so disappointed in me for keeping something so important from them. And for handling this situation so horribly.
Mom doesn’t say anything. She quietly rubs gentle circles into my back as I tell my story. When I finish, the officers ask me several questions, and then tell me to write down everything I just told them.
I take the paper and pen and ask the one thing I’ve come back to all night.
“What’s happening to Chase?”
“He’s been taken into custody. They’ve reduced the charges to assault.”
I cringe, my eyes burning with fresh tears. Loden is somewhere in this building, being cared for, and Chase is locked up because he stopped the psychopath from killing me. It’s not fair.
“The prosecutor will read through the arrest report and the witness statements, then decide if she’ll pursue t
he charges. It could go either way.”
“He saved her,” Alec states, his brow furrowing in confusion. “He shouldn’t have been arrested. He should’ve been given a damn medal.”
The officer doesn’t respond, just offers a small, tight nod as he waits for me to write down my statement.
I try to concentrate, attempting to include every detail I can remember. Every horrible second. At the end, I make a note, asking the prosecutor to take into consideration that this would more than likely have been a murder case had Chase not done what he did.
I hand it over with trembling hands, and then they explain that I have to do one last thing. I need to let them photograph all the marks Loden left on my body.
I slide stiffly from the examining table, pushing my hair behind my shoulders. I flinch as the flash blinds me. After several shots of my face, I lift my chin so they can get good pictures of the contusions around my throat. Then my arms. I lift my shirt to reveal the bruising along my side and across my stomach.
I’m shaking by the time the officers finally leave.
I’m humiliated. I’m devastated and exhausted. And I’m terrified that Loden’s family will buy his way out of this. Maybe even find some way to pin everything on Chase. He doesn’t have the money and influence the Guiles have.
“When can I leave?” I ask the nurse, as soon as she sweeps the curtain aside.
She smiles, handing over a few papers. “Just sign this form and you can go.”
“I want to see Chase,” I tell my mom as I scribble my signature. “I need to thank him and make sure he’s all right.”
She and Alec exchange a quiet, reluctant look. I’ll go on my own if they don’t take me.
“I need to see him, Mom.”
She nods, her hand sweeping under her eyes quickly. I hadn’t realized she was crying. I close my eyes and swallow the lump in my sore throat.
“I’m sorry,” I utter.
“Why are you sorry?” Mom asks, her voice low and confused.
“For letting this happen. For not telling you.” I open my eyes and blink rapidly as I shake my head. “For disappointing you.”
Her breath catches and she rushes forward, her arms settling gently on my forearms. “I wish you had gone to the police the first time he hurt you, but I am not disappointed in you. I love you. I’m just so relieved he didn’t—” She cuts herself off and I shudder, grateful she didn’t say it. I know. I know how close it was. I don’t want to hear the words.
Alec puts his arms around both of us and I chuckle through my tears at our awkward group hug.
I don’t tell her that I’m also sorry for thinking so badly of her all these years. Blaming her for the failed relationships. For being angry at her for making mistakes when I’ve made worse ones.
I don’t apologize for being a terrible daughter because it would only hurt her to discover how horrible I’ve been. So I stay quiet, but I vow to myself, the new Annie will be a better daughter.
~*~
Guy barrels into me the moment I step into the waiting room, his arms wrapping around my waist as he bear hugs me. I wince. “I’m so sorry. I missed the calls. I didn’t know… Are you okay?” He pulls back, his gaze raking over me from head to toe. The skin around his mouth pulls taut as he scrutinizes every bruise.
I shake my head once. “No, I’m not okay, but I will be as soon as I can see Chase.”
“What the hell happened?”
“I-I can’t right now, Guy.”
“Later,” Alec says firmly, guiding us in the direction of the doors. “We’ll stop and check on Chase, see if there’s anything we can do for him, and then we’re going home until…that monster is behind bars.”
I flinch.
What if that doesn’t happen? What if Loden gets out of this?
I shudder, following silently.
Home sounds good. I don’t want to go back to the dorms. I don’t feel safe there. Not at all. Not even with Loden in the hospital.
I climb into the backseat, trying to grab hold of one of the many scattered thoughts running rampant through my head. How can such a good day go so bad? This morning, I woke up in Chase’s bed, content and blissfully happy.
And now I’m on my way to see him in jail.
I don’t know how much time goes by as I ponder this, but the car stops and Alec cuts the engine. I look up through the window to the small local police station. There’s nothing scary about the building’s appearance, but my stomach twists painfully with fear.
Chase is in there. Because of me. Because he protected me.
What if he hates me?
I’ve ruined his life.
I don’t know if I can face him. I can’t lose him. My heart won’t be able to bear that much pain.
“Come on,” Guy says softly. He extends his slender hand to me, but I hesitate, too scared to move.
“Come on,” he repeats. “He’s waiting on us.”
I nod. Okay. I can do this. I owe him this much. And I need to see his face. To know he’s all right. I mentally shake my head as I make my way into the station, trailing behind my mom and stepdad.
Chase isn’t all right. He’s in jail.
I miss what Alec says to the police officer at the counter, but then the man’s reply catches my attention.
“Just missed him. They moved him over to county lock-up.”
48
2,000 Light Years Away
Chase
I didn’t sleep last night. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Annie, her tear-streaked face as she tried to get past security.
I told that cop, Detective Cross, everything. I spilled my guts, giving him every dirty detail of the night. When I was finally finished, he made the phone call for me, checking on her.
She was released from the hospital. No more information than that. Then I was shuffled into the back of a cruiser for the second time and brought here to the county jail where I watched the sun rise. Not the actual sunrise because my one window is too small and too high on the wall to actually see out of. But I watched my cell go from darkness to muted light as I lied on my hard cot.
Silver lining—I made friends with the guy in the cell next to mine. He helped pass some of the time with his long, inebriated stories. Keith, a balding, middle-aged drunk with a round, beer belly, took a liking to me. After I stopped being creeped out, I sat back and listened to him ramble about God and aliens, his family he hasn’t seen in years, and how the government is slowly taking our rights away. He finally passed out a couple hours ago, his snoring filling the silence.
Now I’m just waiting.
“Malloy, you’re out.”
I raise my head, looking at the cop opening my cell door. “What?” I ask, making sure I heard him correctly.
“The prosecutor dropped the charges.”
I sit up quickly. That was fast. At least, I think it is—I have nothing to compare this to. “No shit?”
“No shit. Let’s go.”
I hurry out before he can slam the door in my face and tell me he was just fucking with me.
~*~
As soon as I’m out the door, I call Park for a ride. I feel bad because it’s early and he’s technically on his “honeymoon,” but he’s the only person I can handle seeing right now. Everybody else is too close to Annie and I don’t want my parents to see me walk out of the county jail. It’s bad enough they had to see me last night. I’ll call them when I get home.
He pulls up twenty minutes later and I drop heavily into the passenger seat. “My, my. How the tables have turned,” he drawls thoughtfully. If I wasn’t so drained I’d flip him off.
“Dude, just take me home.”
“What the fuck happened?” he asks as he pulls into traffic. He stares impassively at the road, giving me time to sort my thoughts. I don’t know how much he already knows or how much I should tell. I feel like I’m betraying Annie if I talk about her history with Loden.
“Annie’s ex, Loden—do you remember
him?”
He purses his lips. “Vaguely.”
“Well, he showed up at her dorm room last night and…shit got out of hand. He hurt her and I lost it.”
He glances at me, his brow raised. “You kick his ass?”
“Yeah.” I drag my fingers through my hair then rub my palms across my face. “I went nuts and beat the shit out of him.”
“Good.” That surprises me coming from Park. From someone who was beaten unconscious over a girl.
We sit in silence for a moment and I think his inquisition is over, but then he pulls to a stop at the light and looks over at me.
“You and Annie?”
I nod. “Yeah. Me and Annie.”
“How long?”
I don’t know how to answer that. Do I tell him how long I’ve had feelings for her? How long ago we kissed for the first time? Or just from yesterday when we made it official?
My heart clenches. I don’t know if there’s still a me and Annie.
“A while,” I murmur.
“Huh. I can’t believe you never mentioned it.”
I press my head into the seat and close my burning eyes. I feel dead inside. Numb and lifeless. All the time spent waiting for Annie, and when it finally happens, it’s all taken away. She spent so much time in an abusive relationship. How can she look at me, after what I did, and feel safe with me?
I was crazed and violent. She’s probably petrified of me.
“If someone ever did something like that to Lucy,” Park says, his voice dark, breaking into my thoughts, “I’d fucking kill them.”
I swallow forcefully. I nearly did. I would have if Annie hadn’t stopped me. And I’d still be sitting in that cell, next to Keith, waiting to stand trial for murder.
“I don’t give a shit what anybody tells you,” he continues. “You did the right thing.”
Did I?
I’m not sure.
I’d do it again, but was it right?
I don’t think so.
I would do it again, but I’d handle it differently.
Long After (Sometimes Never) Page 24