by Sally Mason
“Look, I’m sorry I deceived you,” Marcel flicks away the second cigarette butt, lighting a third. He inhales deeply, staring into the darkness. “If it’s any consolation, they tracked you pretty quickly after Luke snatched you tonight, and we were about to move in when Finn and you escaped. If you hadn’t been so quick after he took me out, they would have shot him in the head.”
It doesn’t exactly make me feel better, but it will help me to look at Larouge without constantly imagining how best to strangle him. I study Marcel, pondering if we can still be friends. He looks pitiful as he hops from one foot to another to stay warm with this guilty expression on his face. Though he was way out of line, at least he had a good reason.
“Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Yup.”
“Good.” I glare at him. “You know that’s your punishment for fooling me.”
“I know.” He glances at me with a goofy grin and I’m almost ready to forgive him.
“What about your ear?”
“That’ll heal. Donna did a great job and the doctors say they’ll be able to reconstruct most of it. I got hurt on the job, so the government will foot the bill.”
I smirk to myself. “You know, you should take this as an opportunity to grow some hair. I think it’ll suit you.”
“Yeah, maybe.” His eyes glow mischievously as he flicks the next butt away.
When he’s about to light another cigarette, I stop him. “And you should stop smoking. Girls like Donna don’t like that.”
He shoots me a dark “who made you my mother” look but stuffs the pack back into his coat pocket. “So are we cool?”
His eyes are just like Maisie’s when she begs for a treat, and it strikes me that he is actually quite lonely. The people he hangs out with are criminals he intends to betray, and as far as I can tell, Donna is the closest thing he has to a girlfriend. After what happened tonight with Hallie, she might turn her back on him. He can use a friend as much as I could.
Yet I’m not ready to let him totally off the hook. “You’re not out of the dog house, Agent Brown, but you’re getting there.”
“Good.” I can tell he is dying for another cigarette, but he fights the urge. I hold his pleading gaze, wiggling my eyebrows to show him I mean business.
The door behind us opens and a young cop sticks his head out. “Excuse me, Ms. Miller. Your mother is here and would like to see you.”
Crap. They probably arrested Roy and she is freaking out.
“Do you want me to talk to her?” Marcel asks.
I shake my head. This one, I have to do on my own.
~~~~
Four hours later, I tuck my mom into bed at our house after the doctor prescribed a strong sleeping aid for her to rest. She took the betrayal and loss of her husband and stepson worse than I could have ever imagined, forcing me to step up to the plate and take care of her for once. Before I switch off the light, my eyes rest briefly on Maisie, who has curled up on my mom’s feet. Her eyes are wide with a hint of sorrow—even she can sense that nothing will be the same after tonight.
For the longest time, my mother wept in my arms, asking me questions over and over again I had no answers to. Finn finally pulled her off me and managed to halfway calm her down when he noticed I was close to collapsing. Bravely, I swallowed down my own tears, though I’m dreading the next few days. The emotional drain of the night is about to bubble to the surface and I have no clue how to cope with it.
Finn is fighting with the coffee maker when I get to the kitchen. Glancing at me, he mutters, “You should lie down. You look absolutely exhausted.”
I slump onto the barstool, burying my face in my hands. “I don’t think I can go to sleep.” Every time I close my eyes, I see Luke and his vicious grin. A sob runs through me when I remember that less than twenty-four hours ago, he and I were in this very kitchen, devouring my mom’s pancakes and making plans for the evening. I can still hear his laughter—now it’s making me sick to my stomach.
“Damn it, I can’t get this thing to work.” With a huff, Finn chucks the kitchen towel on the counter. “You need a college degree for this.”
The coffee maker is one of those fancy Italian designer machines Roy got my mom for Christmas. I never used it and am no help to him. With my chin propped up on my palms, I watch him as he rummages through the fridge for something else to drink. It occurs to me that I have never even asked how he’s doing. “How is your head?”
“Alright,” he grumbles. “Doctor gave me some painkillers.”
“And the rest of you?”
He peeks around the fridge door with a frown. “What do you mean?”
“I want to know how you feel, Finn. About everything.”
His head disappears in the refrigerator again. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m still pissed at Marcel, and I’m totally confused about everything else. All I know is that I want to be there for you because whatever I’m feeling, you must be feeling a hundred times worse.” He slams the door to the refrigerator closed, banging the orange juice container on the counter next to me.
“Easy there, tiger.” I smile. “I’m not gonna clean up after you if you spill the juice all over the floor.”
There is a moment of silence before he explodes. “This whole situation is totally fucked up.”
Tell me about it. “It is what it is, Finn. There’s nothing I can do to change it.”
The truth that I lost almost everything in just one night hits me like a bulldozer. My chest is tight as my eyes dart around the kitchen. My mom will likely have to sell the house and go back to work without Roy’s income, though I don’t really want to spend another night here anyways—not in the place where I was once happy with my brother. There will probably be a trial and I will have to look Luke straight in the eyes when I tell the jury what he did to me.
Suddenly, I’m terrified of the future. The tears spill before I can control them, and a sorrowful sob resonates from the depth of my soul.
“You know you’ll get through this,” Finn says, turning my chin to force me to look at him. “You ain’t that girl anymore that I met back at the hospital nine months ago. Sometimes, your strength almost scares me.”
I blink at him through my tears—he and Marcel should form a fan club. With a feeble smile, I wipe the wetness off my cheeks with my sleeve. “What if I can’t do it?”
He squeezes my hand. “You have no choice. That’s what life is all about—we have to keep pushing no matter what is thrown our way. You can’t let life slip through your fingers by living in the past.”
More tears roll down my cheeks—this time because I’m thankful to still have him in my life. Whoever said that you can’t fall hard as long as there is someone to catch you sure knew what they were talking about.
EPILOGUE
“Please sign right here, Ms. Miller.”
With a smile, my pen scratches over the receipt before the woman behind the counter hands me my brand new passport. My thumb runs over the smooth emblem of the United States of America. I can’t wait to use it.
“Oh, hi, Kelsey. How are you?”
I spin around with a small frown, but my face relaxes when I recognize the older lady who is standing right next to the card display by the counter. “Hello, Dr. Stromberg.” I force a smile on my lips—my motto for the month is to be more approachable.
Her eyes fall on the passport. “Going somewhere?”
This time, the smile is sincere. “Yeah. My mom gave me one of those plane ticket to go around the world as a present for finishing my GED, so I’ll be traveling this next year. I’m leaving for London in a few days. It’s so exciting.” Traveling has been one of my lifelong dreams, though the trip is mostly designed for me to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.
“I bet.” Dr. Stromberg’s eyes search my face. “Are you going alone?”
I grimace—that is the only setback in the plan. “Yeah, unfortunately.” Marcel and Finn’s cheers of “You can do
this” ring in my ears. Without them, I would have discarded the whole crazy idea from the start. They even agreed to help my mom out with Maisie by taking her on daily walks. After that, I had run out of ammunition.
“Well, that’s admirable.” A fond sparkle glows in her eyes. “You know, Kelsey, you’re one of my success stories. There was a time I thought you’d let the past destroy you, but you proved us all wrong. I’m really proud of you.”
My gaze drops as my cheeks begin to sting. I suck at handling compliments. “Thanks, Dr. Stromberg.”
“Are you still in therapy?”
I shake my head. After Luke’s arrest, I had severed all ties with my old life, which included dumping her and finding a new therapist. It was actually Cameron’s social worker who recommended a woman not much older than me who specializes in sexual assault trauma. Since she is also a former victim, I was able to connect to her much more easily and have thrived under her guidance. Just last week I got my official stamp that I’m now capable of dealing with life’s hurdles on my own.
“And how is your mom?” Dr. Stromberg continues to pry.
A mess but hanging in there—something I don’t share with strangers. “She is doing alright.”
Dr. Stromberg nods. “That’s good. I followed the trial of your brother and your stepdad closely. It’s really tragic what happened to your family.”
I stifle a sigh, sick of everyone’s sudden concern. “Well, justice was served in the end.”
At least on the surface. Roy got a couple of years after accepting a plea bargain and will be out on good behavior by the end of the summer. If he had testified against his son, he could have even gotten away with probation, but he stayed loyal to Luke till the end. Disgraced in all respects, he lost his law license, and my mom is divorcing him. It will be awkward to see him walk around Stonehenge again, and I secretly hope he’ll move away.
Luke is a whole different story. The judge threw the book at him after he insisted on a trial, and with Hallie’s testimony, the jury convicted him of premeditated murder of Jed. Hutchinson held off on the rape and abduction charges at Marcel’s request. My friend felt that forcing me to relive my nightmare and Luke’s betrayal for the whole world to see could be too much for me.
At first, I fought him, determined to have Luke convicted for raping me, but after a while, I was thankful. Having to tell in open court every detail of his atrocious acts was a terrifying thought. When he ended up with a life sentence without the possibility of parole, he was out of the picture for good. Finn let it slip to one of his old friends who was doing state time that my brother was nothing but a nasty rapist, and Luke has suffered at the hands of the other inmates accordingly. It’s painful to imagine, even though he deserves it.
I tear myself back from the events of these past sixteen months—I still can’t believe how much my life has changed since I stood in that field the night Luke got arrested. “Well, I’d better run. A friend of mine is getting married today and I still have loads to do.”
“Sure, it was so nice seeing you again.” She extends her hand and I shake it. “Tell your mom to give me a call if she ever needs to talk.”
“Will do.” I escape the post office and unlock my bike. Driving is still a drag for me, something I’m planning on tackling as soon as I return from my trip.
Ten minutes later, I stop my bike with screeching brakes in front of the small two-story my mom has been renting ever since she sold the house. The bouncing of a basketball attracts my attention, and I lean the bike quietly against the garden gate and squat down next to it to stay invisible.
Laughter erupts when Finn scores a basket, which is met by a low cuss from Cameron.
“It’s nine to eight, bro,” Finn says, briefly doubling over to catch his breath. “One more and I win.”
Cameron scowls. “You’re so full of yourself. I’m not gonna lose to an old geezer who smokes. You’re going down.”
I suppress a snicker when he elbows his brother in a slick side maneuver to get closer to the basket to score. With his fifteen years, he’s still scrawny, yet this gives him great agility. It’s only a matter of time until he outgrows Finn both in height and muscle strength, and after that, Finn will have his hands full—not only on the basketball court, but also in the girl arena. Cameron can be quite the charmer when he wants to be.
The court has allowed contact ever since Finn’s sexual assault conviction was vacated a few months ago, and the two have been spending a lot of time together. This also brought Andrew, their uncle, into our lives which has been a really good thing for my mom. There have been a few stolen glances and smiles that give hope for a happy ending after all.
I remain crouched to the ground and watch them shoving each other boisterously to get the upper hand. It’s a warm and mild morning, and the wind plays with my hair. Maisie is rolled up in the grass next to them in a deep slumber, her ears only twitching from time to time. I sometimes envy her that she can just sleep her life away. Haunting nightmares still torture me from time to time, making sleep still the hardest exercise.
Finn has slipped out of his shirt and the sweat is glistening on his bare torso. He’s still pale from the winter, which doesn’t take away from his six-pack and his firm chest muscles. I try to ignore my racing heartbeat and the warm tingling in my stomach that lately seems to be present whenever I look at him, reminding myself that we are just friends. Healing takes a long time for people who are as damaged as us.
He finally notices me and gives me a goofy smile, which earns him an eye roll from Cameron. The boy whispers something under his breath; Finn, in response, knocks him on the back of his head. “Hey, behave.”
My legs ache from kneeling down on the hard ground. After I rise, I hop up and down to get the circulation going, realizing how silly I look when the boys’ lips begin to twitch. I pout in response, giving them my best evil eye, which makes it worse. Finn’s laughter is catching and grows the more I pretend to be infuriated.
“Stop, Kelsey, please,” he splutters in between chuckles. “You’re too funny.”
I swallow a sarcastic remark when he stretches, a breath caught in my throat as his muscles flex. He follows my gaze, which is fixed on his chest, and clears his throat. Awkward silence falls over our little group.
“I told you she’s drooling over you, bro,” Cameron remarks dryly.
That gets him another slap on the back of his head. “Oh, shut up.” Nevertheless, the widest grin is on Finn’s face when he slips into his shirt. For a second, our eyes interlock and he winks at me. That sends a hot flash to the pit of my stomach. I drop my gaze with burning cheeks.
Luckily, my embarrassment is cut short when my phone dings with a message signal.
“HELP!!!” the text reads.
“Who is it?” Finn asks when he notices my frown.
“Marcel.” I show him the message.
“Sounds serious.” He digs the keys from his pocket. “I’ll drive.” His eyes zoom in on his brother. “Go home, Cameron, and get ready. I’ll pick you up at two. Andrew got your dress pants and shirt from the cleaners and I expect you to wear a tie.”
Cameron grimaces. “Can’t I just wear jeans?”
“NO!” we both shout, our horror reflected in this one word.
“It’s a wedding,” I remind him. “Loads of girls will be there, so you want to look nice.”
He sticks out his tongue at me. “Girls are gross.”
I remind myself how childish he can be. My mom said it’s common in emotionally neglected kids—it takes some of them much longer to grow up in some areas.
“For once, just do what you’re told, or you’ll be in trouble.” Finn’s voice is firm, trying to sound authoritative.
“Yeah, yeah.” Cameron waves him off, but I know he won’t disobey. There are times you just don’t mess with Finn and this is one of them. It’s something I have come to appreciate over these past months because it makes me feel protected.
For a moment, my
heart clenches. I will miss him during my trip. It will be odd to go for such a long time without seeing him, and I can only hope that when I come back, he’s still around and has not forgotten all about me.
I push the dull thoughts from my mind when a second message flashes on the display of my phone.
“ARE YOU ON YOUR WAY?!!!”
Someone is getting anxious—and for today, he’ll get all of my attention. That’s the least I can do for my second best friend on his wedding day.
~~~~
The small apartment that Marcel and Finn share is in total shambles when we arrive. Open boxes filled halfway with random stuff are scattered throughout, and a pile of clothes I’m not sure is clean is spread on Marcel’s bed.
He stands in front of the mirror with desperate eyes, already dressed in his tux pants and dress shirt. His fingers fumble with the band that’s supposed to become a bow tie, and I immediately know that this is the big drama that got him all wound up. Marcel can be so silly at times, getting upset over nothing.
Pages upon pages of printouts of bow-tie suggestions are lying on the dresser in front of him. He curses in frustration as he tears the band open once again. “I can’t figure this out.”
I grab his hands. “Marcel, look at me.”
He lets out a dramatic sigh as he takes his gaze off the mirror. I search his eyes to determine if this is really all that’s bothering him. Over the last year, he has been able to fool me less and less. In a way, it has become a game to figure out his thoughts and feelings. After he has been hiding his real self for so long, it is still hard for him to trust anyone.
I guide him over to the bed and sit him down. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s really wrong?”
His fingers run over the short coarse hair he managed to grow. “What if she doesn’t show up?”
My eyebrows arch in surprise. “Why wouldn’t she? Donna loves you.”